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corroded-hellfire · 10 months ago

Note

no bc cockwarming with older!eddie is soooooooo

Oh I agree 100%. It’s something I need in my life but I guess I’ll have to settle for only having it in writing. Older!eddie my beloved 😍

Warnings: older!eddie, smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, m receiving, cockwarming, brat and brat tamer

Words: 3.3k

Eddie was never a sports fan. Never interested him, never played nor watched. His needing to be home to watch a game had never been an issue you’d had to deal with in your relationship. So, when the day comes that Eddie is more focused on something that’s on the television than you, you’re not having it.

It’s a Saturday night and the two of you had finished off the pizza that you’d ordered, and you’d gone to take a shower. Halfway through your time spent in the steam, you start to feel a little lonely and wish your boyfriend would join you. Calling his name a few times doesn’t seem to work, even though the walls are thin in his trailer. With a pout, you step out of the shower and wrap a fuzzy towel around your body. Still dripping little droplets of water on the carpet, you pad down the hallway to see where your man is. Nothing Else Matters is coming from the television, and you find Eddie sitting on the couch with a beer in his hand. You’ve heard enough Metallica through him to know that’s what’s on the tv, but you’re not sure what he’s so transfixed on.

“Whatcha watching, baby?” you ask.

His eyes flit briefly over to you before returning to the screen. “Metallica documentary.”

“Oh.” You take a few steps closer to the couch and cock your head to the side. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

“Hmm? Oh, no. You okay?” Eddie’s words are very monotone. You don’t doubt that there’s real concern for you there, but he couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted some company,” you say coyly. There’s no reaction from your boyfriend. Figuring you’ll make it plain as day for him, you drop your towel, leaving your naked body on full display. He turns his head towards you, his eyes staying on the television until the last moment, then flickering your way as well. Arching an eyebrow, Eddie pats his jean-clad thigh and looks back to the television. It’s not exactly the reaction you were looking for, but you’ll take it.

You stroll over to him and perch yourself in his lap. His hands rest on your hips, but he tries to look around you at the television. Your gaze is trained on him, not quite a glare but only a skosh softer. Eddie either doesn’t notice the way you’re looking at him or he doesn’t care. So, you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently press your nails into his t-shirt covered skin, adding pressure bit by bit until he frowns and meets your eye.

“Ow, babe,” he says. “What was that for?”

“You haven’t looked at me once since I sat in your lap. Am I bothering you?” It’s hard to keep the snark out of your voice, even though you’re aware you sound like a petulant child.

“No,” Eddie says with a soft sigh. “I just want to watch this documentary. I haven’t seen it, and you know Metallica is my favorite.”

A groan tumbles from your lips as you drop your head forward and rest it on his shoulder. Cold water drips from your hair onto his neck, sending a shiver throughout his body.

“You want a blanket?” he asks.

His words have you jolting upright and, this time, full-out glaring at him.

“You want me to cover up?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Eddie says, suppressing an eye roll – he knows it will only make it worse. “You just got out of the shower, aren’t you cold?”

“A little,” you say. “So warm me up.”

“Babe, this is over in an hour, can we just–”

“Fine.” You move to get off his lap, but his large hands keep you pinned in place. The overly cheerful voice of a woman trying to sell some new workout video comes from behind you and it makes you huff. “So now that there’s a commercial you’ll pay attention to me?”

“You’re being a real brat, you know that?”

Your eyebrows pull together as you frown at him. “I just want to get some lovin’ from my boyfriend.”

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a sigh. “So desperate for my cock, huh? Be a good girl then, get on your knees.”

With how fast and hard your knees hit the threadbare carpet in the living room, Eddie suspects you’ll either have bruised knees or rug burn. But you don’t seem to mind one bit as you stare up at him with wide, eager eyes. Your hands immediately fly to Eddie’s belt, and you’ve undone that and his zipper in the short few seconds it took Eddie to lift his hips so you could slide his jeans and boxers down.

It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve seen it—or stroked it, licked it, sucked it, had it inside of you, etc—the sight of Eddie’s cock still gets you immediately wet. The promise of the pleasure that he’s going to bring you.

Being eye level with Eddie’s semi-hard cock has you licking your lips in greedy anticipation. Not able to wait one moment more, you lean forward and wrap your hand around the base of Eddie’s cock. His pubic hair brushes against the side of your hand with every stroke.

You push yourself up on your knees so you can let some saliva drip down onto Eddie’s cock, making it easier for you to work your hand over it. A groan slips from your lips as you eye the bead of precum gathering on the tip.

As if based purely on primal instinct, you lean in and run your tongue flat over the head. Eddie’s thighs tense around your head as you savor the salty tang that coats your tongue.

You’re tempted to tease Eddie but with him already accusing you of acting like a brat, he might not let you suck him off. It’s been the toughest torture you’ve ever had to bear when Eddie makes you watch him get off all on his own.

Not willing to take that risk, you engulf the head of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. One of Eddie’s hands rests on the back of your hair, not pushing, just lying there. It puts enough weight on your head to make you sink a little further down on his cock.

“Good girl,” Eddie drawls out.

The praise does nothing to help the wetness that feels as if it will drool down your legs any second. You bob your head, taking a little more of him in each time you go down. Tears annoyingly pool in your eyes and you blink a few times to get them to roll down your cheeks; nothing is going to distract you from giving Eddie the best head you can. Just as you’re about to take him into your throat, Eddie’s fingers dig into your hair, rings lightly scraping against your scalp, and he pulls you off of him.

A whine of protest reflexively flies out of your mouth at the loss. Your brain hardly has time to wonder why your boyfriend pulled you off of him before he tugs your head backwards so you’re looking up at him. His attention is not on you though, it’s back on the television that you hear once again playing music you recognize as Metallica’s. Eddie is looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance as you pout up at him.

“Get up here,” he orders as he drops your hair.

“What?” you ask. Using the back of your hands you wipe the tear streaks from your cheeks and the saliva that managed to leak out of your mouth.

“Get. Up.”

You push yourself up on unsteady legs and Eddie groans in irritation as you block his view of the television. A strong hand grips your naked waist and pulls you forward until you’re tumbling into his lap.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” Eddie’s voice is low and husky, the dominance in it sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to sit on my cock and keep quiet until this show is over. If you’re good, maybe you’ll get rewarded. If you’re a brat, you can get yourself off tonight. Understood?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you reply, hardly above a whisper.

Making sure to lean your torso to the side to keep out of his way, you straddle Eddie’s hips and reach behind you to line his cock up with your entrance. Slowly, you start to sink down on him, the initial stretch leading you to let out a low moan.

“Shhh,” Eddie chastises, never taking his eyes from the flickering screen behind you.

Teeth gnash into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from making any other noises. Tense fingers dig into Eddie’s black t-shirt clad shoulders as you fully seat yourself on his lap. After you’ve given yourself a moment to adjust, you start to lift yourself up again, but Eddie immediately slams you back down.

A sharp whine is forced out of you, and you grip the cotton material of Eddie’s shirt in your fists.

“Wha—” you start to ask but Eddie cuts you off.

“You’re going to sit here, completely still. You’re not going to move around or make a sound.”

You drop your head forward and rest your forehead on Eddie’s shoulder as you let out a small whimper. This is pure torture. Being so close to everything you want, but not allowed to rock your hips to make the dream a reality.

Metallica music continues to play behind you and when you glance up at the older man, he has his entire focus on the show. You almost slip up and let out an irritated groan, but you know you’ll regret it if you do.

A few minutes pass by but it feels like an eternity as you just sit there, half listening to the loud metal music coming from behind you as you slump against Eddie’s body. Just as a song comes to an end and yet another journalist begins to talk on camera, Eddie’s hips shift, causing him to move inside of you. The unexpected jolt has you gasping and burying your face into Eddie’s neck.

“Relax, I’m just making myself comfortable,” he says.

You highly doubt that but keep your thoughts to yourself as you try to calm your body down again. Eddie’s a little shit and you’d put money on this being only the first time he messes with you, looking to see how far he can push before you push back. Sure enough, just as you’ve let your guard down and let your mind wander, there’s a sharp smack to your ass. The sting makes you jump, and Eddie’s hands instinctively move to your waist to steady you.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “My hand slipped.”

He’s full of shit and you both know it. Eddie’s playing dirty now and you have to think of a counterattack. Anything too obvious and he’ll make both of you get yourselves off tonight, so it has to be subtle.

Moving slowly so as to not interrupt his television time, you curl against his chest so he can feel it when you expand your lungs and let out a silent yawn against his neck. As you yawned though, there may have been clenching of your walls around his dick. You feel more than hear the growl that reverberates through his chest. Now when you bite your lip it’s to keep the smile off your face.

You peer over at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall and see that this documentary should be over in about fifteen minutes. So close yet so far. The chill from your still wet skin is starting to settle in as well, which is going to make this quarter of an hour tick by even slower.

Thankfully, the end of the show has some of the Metallica songs you’re more familiar with, so it gives you something to listen to while you wait for this test of wills to be over. With five minutes left you feel yourself getting antsy. Eddie just said until the documentary was over, right? Does that mean the second it’s done he’s going to start fucking you like you’ve been craving for what feels like hours now? Or will he be a prick some more and pretend like he doesn’t know what you’ve been waiting for this whole time. You’d place your bets on the second option. Eddie never turned down an opportunity to be a pain in the ass.

The last song fades out and the show is over. You immediately sit up and look at Eddie with wide eyes. You did it. You had done what he asked of you and now you get your reward, right? Right?

As nonchalantly as you’ve ever seen him, he raises his arms up over his head to stretch out his back and abdominal muscles. Usually, you’d take the opportunity to stare at his tummy when his shirt rode up, but with his cock literally inside of you it feels like a moot point.

“Eddie,” you say. It’s not quite a whine, more like a poke—a nudge.

“Yes?”

He was going to drive you insane one of these days.

“It’s over, right?”

“It is.”

“So…?” you trail off.

“So, it was pretty good. Wish they had more metal documentaries like that.”

You’re two seconds away from putting your hands around Eddie’s throat—and not in the way he sometimes likes.

“And I was good too, right?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him, and it takes Eddie a moment to compose himself enough not to laugh.

“I guess you were.”

“So…” you drawl as you lean in to press soft kisses against the side of his neck. “Do I get my reward then?”

“What is it that you wanted, baby? Was it this?” Eddie rolls his hips up against yours and your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.

“Y-Yes,” you manage. “Need you, Eddie.”

“God, I love when you get all needy for my cock. Should I make you beg for it?”

He knows you will if he demands it. Eddie enjoys moments like this when he’s in full control, knowing you’ll do whatever he wants. That his cock drives you so wild that you become putty in his hands. It makes a nice change since in every other aspect of your relationship you have him wrapped around your little finger.

“Please, please, Eddie,” you whine, fingers grasping at the front of his t-shirt.

Eddie takes in your pouted lips and your widened eyes. He can’t help but smile at how utterly adorable you are; but somehow still the sexiest woman he’s ever met.

“Alright, baby,” Eddie finally acquiesces. He reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand. Slowly and delicately, Eddie swipes his thumb right below your bottom eyelid. “Take what you want.”

The permission unlocks an energy reservoir you weren’t aware you had as you place your hands on Eddie’s shoulders for balance and push yourself up, almost letting his cock slip out. But at the last moment you lower yourself back down, the two of you moaning in tandem as he bottoms out again. You set a relentless pace as you begin to bounce on his cock. Eddie’s eyes hungrily watch your tits as they bounce along with you, providing your boyfriend with double the pleasure.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch. Teasing you was definitely worth it with the way you’re taking his cock for all its worth.

Your hands move up Eddie’s shoulder and slide around to tangle your fingers at the dark curls at the base of his skull.

“This what you wanted, huh?” Eddie asks and pauses to catch his labored breath. He can feel how wet you are and that tells him this is exactly what your goal was. “Needed to have me deep inside of you.”

“So deep,” you mutter with a nod.

“Mm, what would you do without me, baby?” Eddie taunts, lifting his hands to massage your breasts.

“God, I would die.”

Eddie chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Nobody could make you feel as good as I do. I know.”

“Uh huh,” you pant.

Eddie notices your movements becoming slower, the strength draining from your body. Persistent woman that you are, you keep going, moving up and down to take what you want. One of Eddie’s arms snakes around the small of your back and the other comes up to cup your cheek.

“Hey, I’ve got you,” he says softly. Eddie turns to lay you down on the weathered couch and slides an old throw pillow beneath your hips. A loud whine of protest comes from deep in your chest when Eddie slips out of you as your positions change. “Love how desperate you get for me. Only me who gets to see you wrecked like this. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Eddie pushes himself back into your soaked, throbbing pussy your whines turn much more pleasurable. Your boyfriend holds onto the arm of the couch behind your head and uses the leverage to piston his hips.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you cry.

“Too much?” Eddie teases, slowing his hips. “Should I stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

A cocky smirk grows on the older man’s face, a breathy chuckle coming from him at your vociferous reply. His hips pick up speed again, just as eager to please you as you are to be pleased. The arm that isn’t holding him steady against the couch runs over your tits, up your neck, and his fingers meet your lips.

“Open.”

You let your jaw drop, letting Eddie slip his middle and forefinger into your mouth. Just as you did to his cock before, you swirl your tongue around the digits, the feeling of something in your mouth only making you feel that much fuller. Reluctantly, you let Eddie move his hand when he starts to pull away, but not before letting your bottom teeth gently graze against the pads of his fingers.

Eddie’s hand dips down between your bodies and rubs tight circles over your clit. The added stimulation has your muscles tightening, that familiar buildup soaring in you. Your right hand clutches Eddie’s arm, the grip hard enough to leave bruises that will linger for the next few days.

“Eddie, fuck.”

“That’s right. Cum for me, princess.”

“W-Wanna cum with you.”

He dips down and trails hot kisses from your chin, all the way down your throat.

“You’ve been naked for the past hour,” he mumbles against your sweat covered skin. “Never mind how long I’ve been inside of you. You really think I’m gonna be able to last much longer? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

The urging is all you need before letting your orgasm wash over you, back arching off the couch, and pressing your tits against Eddie’s shirt. The clenching and fluttering of your walls around him has Eddie following right after you, spilling into you and filling you up. Wanting to make sure you take every single drop, Eddie fucks his cum into you even after his orgasm begins to wane.

The weight of Eddie’s body pressing on top of yours is exactly what you need in the moments as your bliss fades away. Contentment fills the both of you as you breathe together, both sweaty and satiated. Eddie uses the last of the energy he has left to lift his head and press a few kisses to your shoulder.

“I love you,” you whisper, reaching up to move some of the hair that’s sticking to his face. “I’d apologize for being a brat, but it turned out to work pretty damn well.”

“You are a brat but I’m good at handling it,” Eddie says with a soft smile. “And I love you too.”

“I feel like I need another shower,” you say, your sticky skin feeling attached to Eddie’s.

He looks up at you with those doe eyes and a cocky smile.

“Want some company?”

#eddie munson #older!eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #request #roses collection

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yellowjestertfs · 3 months ago

Text

The Seed is Strong

"Alright fuel up troops! We got more work to do after this." Mr. Walker dumped the contents of the large paper bag he held onto the table, scattering plastic forks, soy sauce packets, and fortune cookies. One cookie skittered across the table coming to rest directly across from Alex.

"Look at that," his colleague Levi said clapping Alex on the shoulder. "It's fate you gotta eat it now!"

"Really? Alex asked nervously. "But I haven't even had my meal yet, and what if there aren't enough for everyone."

Levi rolled his eyes. "I think it will be ok Best Buy. Just eat the damn cookie." Alex nodded and pinched both sides of the crinkly plastic, pulling it apart with his meager strength and freeing the cookie inside. The nickname “Best Buy" was a reference to Alex's job in IT and was one of the tamer things he had been called in his life. Fresh out of college with a computer science degree Alex wasn't exactly a loser but he also wasn't the envy of many. His life was painfully mundane, except for what he had done last year, he shivered at the thought.

All through college Alex had a girlfriend named Stephanie. He thought he was going to spend the rest of his life with her until he got his heart broken. In an attempt to cheer him up Alex's idiot friend had gotten him a hooker. He had ended up mostly just crying in her lap but at the end of the night, the two had rather pathetic cry sex. The memory still haunted him.

Alex broke the fortune cookie in half and fished for the piece of paper resting in one of the halves. His lucky numbers weren't of much interest although 5 of the 6 numbers were prime. Neat! The words on the front made much less sense.

"The seed is strong," It said in simple black text.

"The seed is strong?" What the hell does that mean Alex thought to himself trying to puzzle it out? As in the earth? Was it saying he was going to have a good harvest? Or maybe it was a metaphor, to say that the good he did would become a seed and flourish that way? The whole thing was far too cryptic for math and science-minded Alex and yet the words somehow felt resonant, right.

Levi leaned over Alex's shoulder to try and see what message had been inside the cookie. "The seed is strong." Alex read for him seeing his coworker could puzzle it out.

"Yeah man, I know that's right!" Levi said a grin spreading across his face. He extended his hand in the way of the former frat bro expecting Alex to dap him up. Alex was not versed in those foreign ways and so ended up shaking his coworker's hand awkwardly. Levi smirked but turned away so Alex wouldn't see him laugh.

Alex didn't have time to dwell on Levi's reaction or the awkwardness of the interaction as Delana, Mr. Walker's assistant began to call out orders. "Who got the beef and broccoli?"

Five minutes later a steaming box of orange chicken sat open in front of Alex. Yet despite the food, Alex found his mind wandering. "The seed is strong" "The seed is strong" What could it mean? And why did his groin feel weird? He felt a strange heaviness that he was not used to. Alex adjusted his legs trying to give more room for his package to breathe. Yet the pressure only built. Suddenly his off-the-rack trousers felt horribly constricting.

As subtly, as he could Alex examined his pants and found a bulge protruding from his crotch, the size of which he wasn't used to. His immediate thought was of a cancerous tumor but he didn't think those grew spontaneously. No this felt like well, like his balls were bigger. Much bigger. But that was impossible, right?

The seed is strong.

That couldn't be what it meant. Were fortune cookies allowed to be explicit? It would explain Levi's reaction. But no there had to be some other explanation. He was saved from his introspection by Brenda in accounting who waved him over.

"Hey there Alex, it seems I'm having some computer troubles."

Brenda had her caps locked on.

"Glad I could help Brenda," Alex said graciously. It was not the first time she had made this mistake.

"Thanks again. Guess it's back to the old grindstone." The company had been audited which meant all hands on deck.

"Hopefully we can get this done by 5:00," Alex said starting to make his way back to his seat at the other side of the conference room.

"I sure hope so, gotta pick up the kids pretty soon. What about you Alex, got your kids covered?" Alex's eyes bugged so far out of his head that he was afraid they would fall out of his head and roll around on the carpeted floor. His mind was at war with itself. Most of him was loudly screaming that of course he didn't have kids, he wasn't even married. Yet a small voice said differently.

The seed is strong

He had three kids, two from his college girlfriend and one from Debby the sex worked he had slept with. No no no that wasn't right that couldn't be. He wasn't a father. He always used protection and besides he couldn't support a family on an IT salary. Yet Alex couldn't get the faces out of his head. Two toddlers a boy and a girl and a newborn baby.

In a panic, Alex burst out of the conference room and rushed into the men's bathroom. He tried to splash cold water on his face like in the movies but just ended up with water in his nose and stains on his shirt. Checking to make sure no one was in the stalls Alex undid his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down the zipper.

Balls. What the fuck was wrong with his balls. They were huge, fist-sized swollen things.

The seed is strong.

No. Alex could feel them churning. Could feel his body producing seamen. Inside millions of sperm swam inside begging to be free. Begging to serve their purpose and impregnate. What the Fuck?

The seed is st-

NO. Alex put his pants back on not even bothering to tuck his shirt in. He left the bathroom and started walking not even sure to where. He ended up at his desk. Action figures in their boxes, iPad charging on the window, and framed photos of his children. That was new. That couldn't be. And yet the physicality of it made the reality undeniable. His children.

The seed is strong.

Of course, he had children. For men with the last name Holden like himself, it was practically inevitable. Oh sure, you could try your best, birth control, and condoms for the whole nine yards. Yet very few things can stop the seamen of the Holdens. His father always said their swimmers just kept on swimming, that's why all the men of his family had such large balls. The hyper virility of their family accounted for why Alex was the youngest of 9 children, his poor mother. She often joked that his father was the most expensive fuck in the world, one night with him meant a mouth to feed for 18 years.

For a moment Alex had the image of himself as an only child but that was ridiculous. The seed was too strong for that.

Alex had tried to be careful, he really had. Yet the very first time he and his college girlfriend Stephanie had slept together, taking each other's virginity, she had ended up with a positive pregnancy test two weeks later. He had apologized profusely and suggested they might get rid of the child but Stephanie was religious and insisted on keeping it. Thus his first son, Liam, was born to an 18-year-old father and mother. Parenting in college was tricky but the two made it work.

While Stephanie was pregnant the two had been able to be intimate, with some care of course. Yet once she gave birth Alex knew they had to stop. He had tried to explain the risks, that no matter how much protection they used the seed was strong. Stephanie hadn't believed and so their second child was born only 10 months after their first. Her name was Lila and she was a fussy enough baby that Stephanie took his words seriously. The two had parented together all throughout college and still remained close but the lack of intimacy doomed the relationship ultimately.

Alex resigned himself to never having another sexual encounter after Stephanie, two kids was enough for him. That was until his friend hired a hooker. Her name was Debby. He had explained to her his plight and maybe cried a little, feeling down from a lack of intimacy. She had understood and offered to let Alex do butt stuff instead, something Stephanie had never allowed. Alex was all too happy to take her up on that offer and the two had gotten intimate. Alex was thrilled thinking he had found a loophole. That was until he got a call from Debby telling him he was going to have another child. He wasn't sure exactly how it worked. Maybe some of his spunk had somehow dripped down or maybe his sperm were so enthusiastic that they had swam the distance. Whatever the case Alex ended up a father of three from two different women.

Ding

Alex got a text on his phone from someone named Christopher. "Miss your seed baby."

What the hell? Who is Christopher? He almost texted that exact question to the number before he saw that this wasn't their first text. In fact, as he scrolled up and up and up it seemed their conversation went on seemingly forever. Alex's cheeks reeded as he saw quite a few naughty pictures of this Christopher, a handsome man with a prominent backside, he found he quite liked the photograph. What's worse Alex saw his own pictures sent on Christopher's request, specifically close-up pictures of his huge balls.

Three dots appeared showing Christopher was typing again. "I need you to load me up, Daddy." This text was followed by two eggplant emoji and a squirt emoji. Whoever this Christopher was he sure was persistent. Of course, most of the men that Alex slept with grew somewhat addicted to his seed. Wait that's not right he wasn't gay?

The seed is strong

Of course, he was. Or at least he slept with exclusively men now. It was being with Debby that had made him realize. His dick just felt right sitting in the tight confines of an ass. That moment of self-discovery had been life-changing for Alex. He had gone on something of a sexual rampage after that. It felt so good to be able to finally let loose and fuck with abandon. His seed yearned to be spread, and he had done so, thankfully without the risk of a new life emerging from it.

Christopher was the closest thing Alex had to a boyfriend, although he was more like a long-term fuck buddy. Christopher often joked about how the two had first met. He said he could smell Alex's potent seed from a mile away and that he followed the scent like a cartoon character, nose in the air feet off the ground.

Alex had been told he had a particular scent. It was his seed, of course, leaking from his balls like steam from hot soup. Not everyone had a nose for it, but to those who did it was like a drug. Christopher was something of a bloodhound for it.

One night when Christopher was going on and on about how much he loved Alex's seed and how good it smelled and tasted, like "the raw essence of a man" were his exact words, Alex had told him of his father. He was a waterfall to Alex's trickle. Their house used to reek of seed and testosterone, especially when the 7 boys of the family reached maturity and grew Holden balls. Christopher had cum on the spot. Ever since he had been begging to be invited to a family reunion.

Ding

Another text. Alex expected it to be Christopher with more pleading for his seed but instead, it was from Stephanie. A picture of their son, Liam, dressed in a football uniform standing on a grassy field. How cute, must be at one of his Little League games. Yet something felt off. As he stared at the pixels on his screen he could swear he watched them move, shift. The kid in the picture was far too old. He looked more like he was in middle school. No that wasn't a middle schooler in the picture, he had the body of a grown man, and was that a college logo on his uniform? Alex's eyes widened as he noticed the sizable bulge in the football pants. He shut off his phone.

The seed is strong.

Where was he? He had been at his desk, right? It was a tiny thing, shoved at the back of the office with no windows, mostly just a box for him to wait at until people could come to him with their IT concerns. Except he wasn't there now; no IT person had this nice of a setup. He was in a corner office, two walls made up entirely of glass, showing off the expansive city skyline that their tall building afforded. Alex blinked. His belongings were on the desk, mahogany rather than plywood. Action figures in their boxes, an iPad on the window, and pictures of his children in their frames. Liam and Lilia at their high school graduations and a picture of his youngest at prom, Brandon. It felt like just yesterday Debby had given birth to him, so why did that kid look so old?

"Mr. Holden they're on the line," Delana said poking her head into the office. Wasn't she Mr. Walker's assistant, his boss? But no he didn't have a boss, how could someone with an office this nice have a boss? Hesitantly Alex picked up the phone and was met with a cacophony of greetings.

"It's good to have some senior management on this call." A man said, voice slightly distorted from the phone.

"Yes thank you so much for your time, Alexander. We will be brief," said a woman who he felt like he should know.

The two went back and forth talking about shareholders and market strategy all of which went over his head. He instead spent his time scratching his balls which seemed to have swollen even larger. He would need to empty them soon. His seed was made to be spread and got impatient rather quickly. Maybe he would take Christopher up on his request. He could leave work a bit early today, who would stop the boss?

"Mr. Holden, are you still with us?"

"Oh umm yes yes. Everything sounds great keep up the good work." With that, he hung up the phone. He felt knowledge flooding into his brain, business experience, and social contacts that an IT person had no business knowing. Only he wasn't IT, he hired people to be his IT. He was the top dog of this company. The company that did"¦ he couldn't remember. He would do work tomorrow, right now he was feeling strangely out of sorts, like he didn't belong.

Alexander stood up on legs that felt too long. He had always been tall but now he felt like a lumbering giant. He was glad for his height, Liam and his other son Brandon were getting far too tall for his liking. Not quite the height of good old dad but definitely too tall for him to put them on his lap. Lila wasn't a slouch either, 5'10, and nearly her brother's height when she wore heels. The thought of his children made him smile, they really were his pride and joy. They had inherited his blond hair, did he have blond hair? Of course, he did, although it was turning silver with age. The rest of his siblings had dark hair like his father but he had inherited his mother's golden locks and passed them onto his children, along with his angular face and tall stature. That wasn't to say that the children didn't have anything from their other parents. Liam had his mother's heart-shaped face, freckles, and warm green eyes, while Lila had inherited Stephanie's wavy hair and intelligence. Brandon his youngest had gotten his other mother's darker complexion and her rebellious spark.

He was something of a bad boy. With tattoos up one arm a handsome face and the soul of a tortured artist, Alex always knew he would be swimming in sexual opportunities. He had tried to explain to him the Holden inheritance. Alex tried to give the same speech his father had, telling his youngest about the strong seed of their family. Alex hadn't listened and neither had Brandon, at least not until he had gotten two girls pregnant. He had been sticking to sex with men ever since, the perks of bisexuality, although Alex suspected there would be a few more grandchildren in his future before his youngest got it all out of his system.

It felt right to be a grandfather, although it seemed only a few hours ago he didn't even have children of his own.

The seed is strong.

Liam his oldest also had children. He was far more restrained than his younger brother though. Liam had settled down with a nice woman a few years older than him who had been married before. She had tried for children with her old husband but after years of trying had resigned herself to being unable to have children. That was until she was with a Holden man. Now they had three children and she was pregnant with a fourth. Liam had confessed to Alex that his wife had gotten pregnant the first time the two had ever been intimate which didn't surprise Alex in the slightest.

That left only Lila without children of her own. Where Liam had heart and Brandon had soul Lila had gotten all the brains. With a razor tongue and a mind for business, Alex suspected her only child would be the company she was building. Yet who was to say, maybe one day she would end up having children? If she had a boy someone would have to warn her to expect quite a few grandchildren of her own.

Alex- no Alexander made his way out of the office. He was far too dignified to go by a childhood nickname. Three grown children, how had he become an old man? He passed a mirror and examined his reflection. Square had handsome features, a tall frame, and muscles that pushed out his suit pleasingly. Maybe not quite an old man yet. He puffed up his substantial chest. How many grandfathers could bench 250 lbs?

Come to think of it all brothers currently could, even his oldest brother Mark, who was a great-grandfather at only age 60. Ha. Yet another thing passed on by the Holdens. High metabolism and the genetic potential for substantial musculature. Alex had always suspected it had something to do with their over-productive testicles pumping in an excess of testosterone, although Lila was surely no slouch. Alexander fondly remembered how she could beat both her brothers in arm wrestling contests as children whenever it was his turn to have custody of the kids.

Still, it was his sons who had inherited the rippling muscular physique of the Holden men. Liam was the larger of the two mostly due to playing football in high school and college. After he graduated Liam started taking his physique seriously and competed in a few bodybuilding shows. Alexander remembered the horror of realizing his 220 lbs son was bigger than him. That caused Alex to redouble his efforts at the gym. That coupled with the fact that Liam stopped competing after he settled down had restored Alexander to the top of the food chain where he belonged. That wasn't to say that Liam let himself go. Liam maintained an admirable body, one that he had confessed to his father made fitting in with the other dads difficult, a sentiment which Alexander could relate to.

"Dad, it's like every dude either wants to feel me up and ask me to be their personal trainer or takes it as an insult and acts like a dick". In Alexanders case, most of the dicks had ended up sucking his but that type of advice could never work for noble pure-hearted Liam. Brandon on the other hand rated perfectly to his father's more horny tendencies. While he didn't have his brother's brutish size Brandon was toned good arms adorned with plenty of tattoos and the abs that only a young man could have. He had done several perfume commercials displaying those abs and his notable bulge across billboards in Times Square to Alexander's shock and secret pride.

The seed is strong.

"Are you heading out Mr. Holden?" A young man holding a clipboard asks as Alexander makes his way to the elevator."

"I am Shayne. nature calls, I’m sure you understand." A wide grin split the youth's face and he nodded. Alexander had long suspected Shayne's lineage but looking at him now it seemed undeniable. Tall with a brawny build, Shayne had brown inquisitive eyes, short sandy blond hair, and a well-trimmed dirty blond beard covering his square jaw. To put it bluntly, he was the spitting image of Alexander in his youth. The final clue of course lay beneath the kids well ironed slacks.

Without violating company policy or his own ethical code as a boss Alexander had tried to check out his new intern's package. Sure enough, he had gotten confirmation at the urinal last week. The kid was sporting an abnormally large pair of balls that could only belong to a Holden man.

Alexander supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He had started being a sperm donor in college to make a little cash. One test of his seed and the clinic had been positively feral to milk him dry. Once he started moving up in the company the money had meant less to Alexander but he still would occasionally pay a visit to the clinic to donate. He liked the idea that he could help a woman struggling with fertility or allow someone to start a family without relying on a man. He would also be lying if he didn't think it a little hot they have a bunch of mini me's running around as well. His only request was to warn any potential sons of their fertility as odd as that seemed. With the amount he had donated Alexander was bound to come across one of his children at some point although it was still thrilling. It warmed his heart to think he had another son, and one who had grown up to be as responsible and respectful as Shayne.

He would have to ask Shayne about his father sometime or get him a DNA kit for the holidays. Something that might tip the kid off without coming on too strong. Just because they shared blood did not mean Alexander had a right to be part of his life yet if he would have him, Alexander would gladly have a relationship.

"We should be all good with preparing for the audit without you. Have a good night sir."

The elevator doors closed blocking sight of his potential son. Alexander took out his phone and brought up messages to Christopher. In the dark elevator, he had trouble reading the screen and even more trouble finding out how to raise the brightness. God if only he could trade his buffalo balls for some IT skills he joked to himself. Eventually, he figured it out and typed out a message.

"How could I refuse? My place in 20?"

Christopher sent a gif of a mouth watering then an emoji of a man running. Would it be so hard to type out a yes? Alexander wasn't worried about Christopher being busy. Besides the fact that he suspected the man would push his own mother off a cliff for the contents of Alexander's balls, he was also a writer, a job which gave him the luxury of making his own schedule. He mostly wrote YA fiction, some of which were quite well-known. His biggest series was all the rage when the kids were in their teens, meaning they had thought Christopher was the god on earth. Now though Christopher was working on something more adult. An erotica that he claimed was loosely based on his and Alexander's romance. He told the family proudly a few months back he was going to call it "The fountain of eternal cum". Alexander's PR team told him it would be a nightmare if it was published and Lila threatened to take a box cutter to her eyes, and ears too if an audiobook version came out. Still, Alexander had let the project continue, he thought it funny and maybe a little hot.

20 minutes later Alexander reached his building courtesy of his driver and made his way up to his penthouse apartment. Christopher was waiting for him splayed out on a $30,000 couch like a house cat.

"Smelled ya coming." He said, rising from his lounging position and making his way over to his lover. With practiced hands, he pulled Alexander in using his tie as a leach and placed one hand on his broad chest feeling the warmth of Alexander's body through the thin Oxford and undershirt.

When Alexander had first met Christopher he was something of a twink, young with ample curves and smooth skin. That had been over 20 years ago. Now Christopher was more the scruffy writer type, with a cute face adorned with a few wrinkles, thick glasses, and a layer of scraggly stubble. His body wasn't as tight as it had once been but Christopher still had enough in the back, where it really mattered. Alexander didn't begrudge his lover the changes of age. He wasn't the same muscle bull Christopher had fallen in love with either. While he had retained much of his size his age had left him sentimental, the wild bull, been tamed, although it still came out on occasion when his lover was involved.

"I needed this" Alexander purred leaning into the embrace and planting three long kisses onto Christopher's neck. Christopher pulled his head back savoring the touch. We need to get this off he said, peeling Alexander's suit jacket from his frame. Alexander's back and arms proved too large and made what might have been a sexy process rather unsexy as the two struggled to peel off the garment. Once that was done Christopher went to work on the buttons starting from the stop and working his way down until Alexander stood in an open shirt with only a white sleeveless undershirt beneath.

"Ugh, why do you wear so many clothes," Christopher said eager to get to his prize.

"I could say the same thing to you" Alexander rumbled. He took the opportunity to pull off Christopher's chunky cable knit sweater, a process Christopher assisted in by raising his arms. Alexander tried to make things more even by fully removing his button-up shirt but he was still left in a white tank top. His arms were thick solid things bulging with mature muscle, and the lower half covered a dusting of nearly transparent blond hair. His chest pushed out the undershirt significantly, then fell loose around his still mostly flat belly.

"Will you do the thing?" Christopher asked excitedly, a kid asking to go on a roller coaster again. Alexander plastered on a gracious smile then put both hands on either side of the shirt's collar and pulled. It ripped clean down the middle revealing his toned body. Christopher clapped and giggled then and went in for another kiss, their now shirtless bodies rubbing against one another. Alexander suspected hundreds of shirts over the years had perished to Christopher's "favorite trick" but it was worth it to see that look of glee on his face. Besides undershirts weren't particularly expensive, at least he assumed they weren't. His assistant did most of his shopping for him.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom Mr. Holden?" Christopher asked, knowing how formal talk turned Alexander on. In response, Alexander picked his smaller lover up in a fireman's carry and made its way across the penthouse to the bedroom. Along the way, they passed countless family photos framed on walls and coffee tables. Liam was the lead of the high school musical, Lila won the state debate championship, and Brandon posing proudly with graffiti art that spelled out his name. There were picnics and football games, thanksgiving dinners, and volunteering. Three smiling happy golden-haired children, all made from their father. Made from his potent seed, the seed Christopher was about to receive.

Alexander threw Christopher down on the bed and caused him to bounce on the springy mattress. With his manly hands, he gripped Christopher's pants and tried to force them over his voluptuous bottom, getting to his prize at all costs. He could have ripped them off nearly as easily as he had his shirt if not for Christopher's pleas about how much he loved these pants. It felt like it took forever for Christopher to undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and pull the zipper down, only then allowing Alexander to rip them off, taking underwear with it. Christopher had a respectable dick and balls that were he with a different company might be considered large. Yet when with a Holden man it was like comparing an ant to an elephant. Besides, there was really only one thing below the waist Alexander carried about. Not that he was a selfish lover, but rather the two after years of making love had experimented enough to know what they really wanted. "Roll over," he said breathily, his excitement getting the better of him. Now it was his turn to take the time with his pants.

Plop

His package flopped out into the open like a hot man to a pool. He looked down at his balls and for a moment they seemed obscene. Baseballs attached to the underside of a penis that really wasn't that remarkable.

The seed is strong.

9 inches was at the lower end for size in his family but he really didn't have anything to complain about. Yet another perk of being a Holden man. With their large balls, it only was natural that they have the dick to match. It was a subject less commonly talked about for obvious reasons yet Alexander was no idiot. He had seen his brothers dicks through their pants plenty of times and heard stories from their wives. And his children, well a father can't help but see these things even if he tries not to. Once back when Alexander had still been in college and with Stephanie his father, the patriarch of the family, had gotten a bit too drunk on old fashions and whiskey on the rocks. He had launched into a bit of a rant.

"Oh I had some big dicked brothers, but of all them, mine was the thickest. No, it wasn't the longest, that would be my brother Kendall. We used to call him pencils dick Kendall you know. Foot long but thin as a finger. Looked ridiculous with his big balls. He ended up having eight children though so I guess someone liked that pencil dick."

The whole family had erupted in laughter at that, much to Stephanie's horror and Alexander's delight. He had inherited that thickness, thickness which Christopher revealed in, tentatively licking the head from his ass up position before taking the whole thing in his mouth. Giving a blow job to someone of Alexander's size wasn't easy but Christopher had something like 20 years of practice. It wasn't just that he could take the whole thing that made Christoper blow jobs great, although that was nice. Rather it was the way he played with Alexander's balls, tickling them caressing them, even taking a break from his dick to suck on them. Alexander always thought he was trying to cut out the middleman and get right to the source of his addiction. He suspected his lover would hook up an IV bag of his seed to drip into his bloodstream if he had the supply.

After a few minutes Christopher got impatient. "I'm ready," he said excitedly turning to face away from Alexander and presenting his ass like a target for practice. Alexander took a bottle of lube from his bedside table and applied it generously to his dick and his lover's hole. There was no point in a condom, they both were clean and besides those did little against determined Holden spunk. Yet lube was essential even after all these years for accommodating his dick. Slowly he inserted his dick, being careful at first. Once he was halfway in Christopher gave him a nod and he sped up, ramming the rest of his member in and then pulling it out almost all the way out with a wet squish. Christopher moaned a high-pitched whine of pleasure and pleaded for more. As Alexander began to thrust he answered with his own sound, a mix between a bellow and a grunt. God, how did he keep his hole so tight?

"Harder" Christopher panted. Alexander went harder.

Harder!" Christopher said again. Alexander thrust with his hips impaling his partner with all his substantial strength. His full balls slammed against round butt cheeks, the sound keeping time with his thrusts.

"Harder daddy, breed me. Fucking breed me. Fill me with your seed till I have your fucking baby." Alexander gave it all he had. If Christopher wanted to be bred so bad then he was all too happy to oblige. He obliterated him, pulverized his fucking hole. Pleasured him so thoroughly he might never walk again. He showed his lover how he had created three children, the reason why his family was so prolific. The seed is strong. The seed is strong. The seed is strong.

"The seed is strong." He screamed as he climaxed. His vision went white as his balls emptied like a dam bursting. His dick became a fire hydrant for the torrent of seed that he pumped into Christopher. The two collapsed onto each other, sweaty bodies reveling in the heat, the smell, and the pleasure. They just sat there for a moment, slowly winding down from the passion of the experience. It had felt for a moment like those times back so long ago when Alexander had conceived his children. He knew even then as soon as he had climaxed his seed would quicken. He had felt it in his bones, in his balls. Only obviously that couldn’t be, a figment of his horny imagination perhaps.

With a start, Alexander realized his dick was still inside of Christopher, half hard and plugging his hole like a drain stopper. He removed himself with a popping sound and caused a torrent of cum to spill out of Christopher. Christopher reached around and scooped it up onto his hand before licking them clean and moaning like he had just had a cold cone in the summertime. He went in for a kiss and Alexander got a taste of his own seed. It was indeed strong, like raw masculinity. Salty musky and somehow sweet, Alexander understood why Christopher had developed a taste for it. He could somehow tell that every single swimming sperm in his mouth could create a child if given a chance, ones who would be as beautiful as the ones he had now. The thought made him feel like Chronos from Greek mythology gobbling up his children whole.

"Even more amazing than usual," Christopher said once the two had broken their kiss. "I swear Alexander you are a fine wine. You just get better with age." He excused himself to use the bathroom leaving Alexander lying alone on his spoiled sheets. It was funny how much sex defined his life. It was sex that had brought him his children, the lights of his life. Sex that had brought him Christopher, his life partner and husband. Even his business, the largest contraceptive company in the country. It would be quite the scandal if it came out that their CEO could bust right through their condoms with his seed. Alexander supposed it was inevitable that his life revolved around sex. He had always been told the seed was strong and had always taken it literally. Yet it went beyond hyperactive balls. The men of his family seemed practically bred to breed, with their faces and their bodies not the mention the dicks and strong libido, it was inevitable that the Holden men lived and breathed sex. He wondered what in the family's past had happened to create such a strong seed. Was there some kind of curse placed on their family by a disgruntled prehistoric witch? Or maybe one of Alexander's ancestors was some kind of genetically mutated freak. Could they be a different species? With the rate they were going the whole world might be Holden men in a few centuries.

Alexander had to laugh. The things he thought about in his post-nut state were always strange but he must have really needed this if he was thinking about witches and a future of only Holden humans. Besides Alexander had found a loophole, homosexuality. Not of course before before he had spawned three and potentially hundreds more through donation. Still with Christopher at least he knew he was safe. The seed was strong but it wasn't that strong.

"HONEY. I think I'm pregnant" Christopher yelled from inside the bathroom waving a positive pregnancy test excitedly.

Shit. The seed is strong.

Hope you enjoyed, been sitting on this one for a while. I wrote an epilogue too that more comedic then hot, but i would post that too if anyone is interested.

#straight to gay #male tf #male transformation #musclegrowth #tf #age progression tf #reality change #ai image

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shellshocklove · 2 months ago

Text

brat three: i don't wanna feel feelings | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel’s brat summer is coming to an end.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking, reader wears a dress, heels and makeup but otherwise no other descriptions, use of pet names, some angst, smut, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, some daddy!joel, manhandling, some light bondage, degradation (whore, slut), oral sex (f+m receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), no use of y/n

a/n: ok so here's part three to brat! there's one more part planned, and then that's it! <3 big thank you to @dustydaddyyy for reading through this, i love you!! <333 happy reading! 💚

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

The gravel moaned under your heels as you carefully left your uber at the foot of the driveway. The air smelled of summer; flower-y notes with a hint of anticipation. Cars lined the driveway, tightly parked with the wheels almost hanging in the air over the ditch. The sky turned purple then pink as the sun started to dip beneath the horizon, the small beams of light coming through the doors of the big barn beamed brighter and brighter the closer you got.

This wasn’t the first time you’d crashed a party, but it was your first wedding. You’d looked up the place online, Pecan Grove Ranch. It was nice, but pedestrian, not filled with the extravagance a party of this size would rank up in your father’s circles – the ones you’d been dragged too ever since you were old enough to put on a charming smile. This felt real, no fake happy smiles and secret codes, just people gathering to celebrate love.

Love.

It had always been a thing that happened to other people. To your friends, to the protagonist in a movie, to the person on the other side of your kiss. They always thought they were in love with you, but love always felt like a joke everyone was in on except for you, a story told to sell movie tickets or for a song to hit number one.

Sex was different, sex you understood. It was like acting, and you had no problem slipping into the role. It was fun, it was a release, it was a fleeting connection you couldn’t help but chase.

One you were chasing right now.

Maybe Joel was right, maybe you are desperate, but it was his fault for leaving you like that, right on edge but without the release. Honestly, it was his fault you were here, you thought as you stood outside the open barn doors.

Off to the side a few of the guests had gathered around a picnic table. Billowing white smoke clouded them as you watched their animated conversation between drags of their cigarettes and sips of their drinks. A small boy ran past you, almost crashing into you as a little girl chased after him with a giggling laugh. They chased each other on the grass, as they ran between the large trees where a million lighting bugs danced between them.

The air felt light like cotton candy, a sweetness of celebrated love coated the faces that emerged as you stepped inside. The picking guitar intro of TLC’s ‘No Scrubs’ met you at the door, followed by a large cheer, bordering on collective scream, coming from the people on the dance floor. Walking slowly, you followed the back wall of the barn. A light breeze came through the open doors and windows, and tugged at your dress as you closed in on the bar.

Open bar… Nice, Tommy.

Most of the guest had their assigned seats at the round tables pressed up against the wooden walls of the barn. They must’ve been moved to make room for the dancefloor, you thought as you leaned up against the side of the bar. It was rustic, made entirely of untreated wood and decorated with large white bows. The bartender was around your age, handsome, and painfully bored it seemed by the way he lit up when you approached.

“What can I getcha?” he asked, a charming lilt to his voice.

“Um…” your teeth caught on your bottom lip, as you scanned the drinks menu. They all had quirky names, most likely inside jokes or references to the wedding couple that mostly went over your head.

“One ‘Contractor Juice’, please?” you ordered, holding back from cringing at the name. At least you got this reference, and the promise of mint and citrus mixed with alcohol had never failed you before.

“Sure thing, doll,” the bartender smiled, a little too sweet for your liking, or maybe you’d developed a preference for grumpy frowns.

“So… bride or groom?” he asked, making conversation as he worked.

“Um… groom,” you told him, leaning your back against the bar as your eyes rolled over the tables, searching.

“Ain’t seen you up here yet,” he said, a question unsaid hanging in the air as he handed you your drink.

Turning around, you thanked him and slipped a five-dollar bill in the tip jar. “There,” you said, “Now you can turn off the charm.”

You watched how he tried to hide his smile, as he held up his hands in a surrender, “Who’s to say I can turn it off?”

He smiled when you rolled your eyes at him. It was cute, two dimples separated by perfect white teeth. At the start of the summer, you might’ve let him fuck you at the end of the night, but the summer was coming to a close, and you had your eyes set on someone else.

He had his back turned, but you knew it was him, you’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. Something bubbled under your skin then, and your hands felt clammy around your glass – you were nervous, there was a whole room between you, but he still managed to make you nervous.

Maybe this was a bad idea?

He sat with his body turned, his hand around a beer bottle, as he watched the dancefloor move. Your eyes followed his and found Tommy where he danced, his hand clasping a woman’s, a woman you’d only seen in photos.

Joel’s daughter.

She was beautiful. Clad in a dark lavender satin dress, matching the other bridesmaids. Her dark hair was slicked back and gathered at the nape of her neck, held together by a matching satin bow, perfect curls spilled across her back. Her smile was even prettier as she laughed and sang with her uncle, swinging to ‘Build Me up Buttercup’. It was the same smile you could see across Joel’s face as he watched them.

The drink burned slightly from the acidity at the back of your throat, and you were grateful that he’d been heavy on the liquor. You needed to catch up, let the alcohol loosen you up, pull away your unexpected nerves.

“Who’s that?” you heard behind you. A warmth coated your neck and cheeks at being caught staring, and the embarrassment mixed with anger.

“I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business,” you scoffed.

The bartender huffed out a dry laugh, “Jesus, it’s wedding small talk, no need to bite my head off.”

“Well, I’d prefer it if you didn’t talk,” you told him, sending him an annoyed look over your shoulder.

When you turned back around, Joel’s seat was empty, the beer bottle he’d nursed left behind on the table, the only sign he’d ever been seated there in the first place. Your tongue found the straw of your drink, twirling it around while you sipped, eyes scanning the dancefloor.

Nothing.

Did he slip out? Out to catch some fresh air or go to the bathroom? Maybe you could find the restroom, hover outside the door and ‘accidently’ bump into him?

No.

You cringed. Did you even hear yourself? As you took another sip, trying and failing to come up with a plan, a familiar gruff voice heaved a heavy sigh behind you.

“You got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

He didn’t look angry, but the way his hand rubbed over his face was worse, he was disappointed to see you.

“What the fuck you doin’ here?”

“Celebrating Tommy, and–” you squinted your eyes, looking at the name scrawled elegantly next to Tommy’s on the bar menu, “–Maria... aren’t you?”

You gave Joel an easy smile, and stepped closer, crossing one foot nonchalantly over the other. There was no way in hell you’d give him the satisfaction of seeing you even a bit phased he’d caught you crashing his brother’s wedding.

A huff escaped Joel at your lie before the corners of his mouth pulled ever so slightly in a dry, sarcastic smile.

“That’s cute,” he told you, his voice devoid of any humor in it, tone entirely disbelieving.

“I’ve been known to be described as such,” you grinned.

Joel didn’t seem to like your joke, his face not moving an inch. “You know this is way out of line, right?”

“What?” you snorted, taking a sip of your drink as your eyes fanned out over the room for a second, before landing back on Joel, “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Joel let out an almost incredulous scoff, shaking his head as his eyes quickly scanned across the room, going to Tommy still on the dancefloor with Sarah. Something seemed to flash over his eyes, or maybe it was the lights but he leaned forward then, fingers wrapping around your forearm in a firm grip.

“Way to make it obvious,” you said under your breath as he pulled you a bit. Not letting him have it, you planted your feet, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Don’t be a fuckin’ brat,” he told you, his voice filled with annoyance.

Something ignited in you then, and you knew you had him right where you wanted him. Unable to contain your smile as the words crossed his lips, you felt them settle in your core, drip down your thighs like sticky honey.

“You’d know just what do about that, wouldn’t you?” you challenged, your eyes burning into his, and for a second, you had his attention. He held your gaze, and his eyes flickered with the same intensity you felt.

A beat passed between you, and you watched as his jaw tightened, waiting for the bomb to tick down to zero.

Then it popped.

The guests cheered as a song faded into another, and Joel took a step closer to you. His hand released your forearm to slip around your waist as his eyes never left yours.

“Come,” he spoke through his teeth, his voice low and quiet.

The feel of his hand so close to your skin sent your brain into a temporary reboot. You’d craved it all week, missed him so close to you, missed his scent on your skin, and you let yourself be steered away.

Quickly, Joel led you out the barn doors, his hand firmly pressed against your lower back as he looked over his shoulder. The music faded as he guided you towards a handful of small, scattered cabins hidden away behind a grove of trees. The trail snaked its way from tree to tree, your heels digging into the gravel making it hard to keep up with Joel’s pace. He walked with haste, passing cabin after cabin until the hand on your lower back looped around your waist, turning you around to face him as he came to a stop outside the last cabin.

His eyes drilled into your own, giving you a wild look, “I want you to leave,” he said, voice stern.

Leaning into his touch, you tilted your head to the side and let your eyes roll over him. He’d combed his hair back, wavy curls held back by gel. You raised your hand to cup his cheek, letting your thumb run through his trimmed scruff, hints of salt and pepper shone under the rising moonlight. The full of his lips was pressed together in a tight line, your eyes trailing your thumb as you let it gently run over his lips. Something softened in him under your touch, his eyes brown and deep as they watched you, it made your heart pick up its beat, hammering out of your chest.

Leaning closer, your eyes flickered to his lips again, and you thought about how you didn’t know what he tasted like, didn’t know how his lips felt against your own. You were so close now; his breath came out in small puffs against your face. Slowly you tilted your head, your nose accidentally brushing up against the crook of his own.

“You owe me a fucking orgasm,” you whispered.

His hand around your waist tightened, and with a small huff he tilted his head back.

“I owe you nothin’, princess.”

God, he could be stubborn sometimes.

It might’ve annoyed you if it didn’t turn you on as much as it did. You loved how he made you work for it, and he was worth doing the work. Something deep down inside you knew it. Joel was a good man. If you weren’t careful he’d remove the walls built up by that lonely girl you’d kept hidden inside; one emotional stone at a time. Maybe it was ironic? The man who’d devoted his life to building walls, now breaking them down?

“Why do you deny yourself something you want?”

“You...” Joel swallowed hard, dark eyes watching your face with an unreadable expression, “You're a piece of work, you know that?”

The words stung more than you’d like to admit, and when Joel’s hand slipped from your body as he stepped away, a wave of anxiety washed over you.

Had you gone too far?

Joel didn’t look happy, and a small knot started to tie itself in your stomach under his gaze. You watched as he unbuttoned the top button of his tuxedo jacket, making it fall open and showing you his perfectly pressed shirt underneath. His right hand dug into his inner pocket, fishing out a white key card.

His steps were heavy up the front stairs to the cabin, almost dragging, like he moved through molasses. The lock clicked as he held the key card against it, a green light blinking before he opened the door.

Dumbfounded, you stood at the foot of the front steps. You’d riled him up, played your little game and he’d gone along with it like always.

Was this how it was gonna end?

He stood in the opening, hand on the handle with one foot on either side – halfway in, but also halfway out. He didn’t move, his head tipped forward, weighing his options. Then he sighed and pushed the door open, and stepped inside the darkness.

“C‘mon, get in before anyone sees you.”

The cabin was quaint, but cozy, with only the necessities. It was more like a hut, not bigger than a hotel room. A narrow hallway opened up to the bedroom, with a door to the right leading to a bathroom. Joel had placed his overnight bag on the chair in the corner, a worn leather duffle bag with a dark t-shirt and pair of jeans thrown over it, clearly thrown in a hurry to get ready. White lace curtains hung over the windows, bright against the dark wood of the paneled walls.

The clinking of Joel’s belt pulled you from the silence, your head twitched like a reflex turning towards him. He’d shed his tuxedo jacket, his broad shoulders fighting against his pristine white shirt. He walked towards you slowly as he removed his cufflinks; the warmth in his eyes had turned darker. Taking a step backwards the back of your thighs pressed into the chair, almost tipping you over, but he caught you, one arm tight around your wrist while the other threw the cufflinks on the pile of clothes behind you.

“You say ‘red’ ‘nd we stop,” he told you, eyes holding your gaze so intently you didn’t dare look away. An inaudible breath pressed past your lips when his other hand cupped your cheek, the touch reminding you to nod your head.

“Or I pinch you,” you said.

A pleased smile spread across his face, “Good.” He punctuated his approval with a light pat to your cheek.

Stepping away, he nodded towards the bed, an unspoken order, while his hands found his tie around his neck where he tugged at the knot. You sat at the foot of the bed, knees pressed together, waiting for him to make the first move. The white sheets smelled strongly of detergent, nothing like the faded hints of his cologne mixed with sawdust you’d smelled on his own sheets that first night he’d fucked you.

The tie slipped from his neck and you fell back on your arms, feigning boredom while you let out an audible sigh. It made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?” you queried, your brows pulled together in a frown.

A smile leftover from his chuckle coated his lips as he stepped closer, your legs spreading for him to slot between as he threw the tie on the bed beside you.

“Nothin’.”

Over you, he gently rolled up his sleeves with practiced hands before he wrapped a hand tightly around your upper arm. Then he tugged.

“Hey!” you said, fighting against his grip as he manhandled you. He turned you roughly, his other hand fingering the zipper of your dress, while the other held you in place. “Be careful with the dress,” you whined.

“Stop actin’ like a fuckin’ child,” he muttered, helping you out of your dress.

“A child? Well… that doesn’t bode well for you with what you’re about to do.”

That stopped him in his tracks, eyes burning as he let go of you. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed, throwing your dress over his pile of clothes, “you’re fuckin’ unbelievable.”

Freed from his grip, a smirk pulled at your lips as you shuffled up the bed. Leaning back on your elbows, you seductively parted your legs for him, showing him the darkened patch of fabric scarcely covering your cunt.

“You keep saying that,” you smiled, saccharine and sticky like syrup.

“I’ll stop when you finally start behavin’.” Joel’s hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you towards him with a hard jerk, making a giggly squeal escape you.

“Never– HEY!”

A ripping sound tore through the room, your skimpy panties tattered in his large hands. A smirk spread over his face. The motherfucker looked mighty pleased with himself.

“Surprised you’re even wearin’ these,” he said, thumbing at the wet patch of arousal, before he tossed them to the floor. “A slut like you should’ve gone without, shouldn't you?”

The warmth of his touch over your knees had you twitching for him, goosebumps following his hands as they rubbed gently up and down your legs. His eyes never left your face though, watching every reaction you gave up.

“I…” your rebuttal trailed off when he fell to his knees, slotting between your own and spreading you open for him, one hand glided down the outside of your thigh to your ass, while the other found your aching clit.

Then he spat. A thick blob of saliva ran from the top of your mound down your clit, where it combined with your arousal shining through your glistening folds.

“Joel!?” you gasped when the rough pad made contact, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure, spreading his spit around in small circles.

You kinda hated this part; getting eaten out. No partner had gotten it right before. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable, it could be, but never seeing stars good… And you couldn’t help but think about that first time someone had gone down on you, about the boytoy you’d had wrapped around your finger freshman year. He’d given you an orgasm maybe 60% of the time he’d fucked you (which was a better successrate than your later hook-ups), but his comment as he’d gotten on his knees for you for the first time still rang loudly in your head.

It’s not supposed to look like that, is it?

The small laugh he’d let out had only made it worse, and you’d dumped him less than twenty-four hours later. Now, you hated having a man this close to your pussy.

Your hand found Joel’s shoulder, where it pushed. “I don’t…” you interrupted yourself with a hand over your face, not wanting to look at him.

“What, baby?”

Suddenly he was there, hovering above you, caging you in with his body, heavy hand pushing at your own over your face.

“Ain’t in the mood for the orgasm I owe ya, is that it?” he smirked, and you stayed obstinately silent for a second.

“What is it, hm?” he asks you, “Not gonna let me taste that pretty pussy?”

Pretty…

“Joel…”

Your eyes searched his face, looking to find where he’d hidden his lie. His face grew sterner, eyebrows pulling together in a furrow.

“Tell me.”

Your front tooth caught on your lip and a heat prickled up your neck. You couldn’t tell him, you just couldn’t. Joel’s palm found your cheek, heavy and safe against your skin, letting his thumb sooth you and your eyelids fluttered from his touch. A breath got caught in your throat when he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to the column of your neck, your pulse vibrating under his lips.

“Do I have to wring it outta you?” he whispered against your skin, his hand gliding from your cheek to fit around your neck. The air between you changed and you forced yourself to snap back into your disguise.

“I’d like to see you try.”

A deep rumbling laugh vibrated against your skin and Joel found your eyes again. His hand around your neck soothed over your skin and you found yourself pushing up into his hand, daring him to tighten his grip.

“There she is… my brat,” he smiled.

Mine.

He was gone before the possessive word could settle, hovering over your body as he rid himself of his shirt. You couldn’t help but drink him in, he was so handsome, broad and strong with speckled grey hairs trailing to the heavy bulge hidden away behind the soft fabric of his dress pants. His undone belt clicked as he moved closer, climbing onto the bed between your legs.

“Scoot up,” Joel ordered with a tap to the outer skin of your thigh.

The huff you let out was exasperated, earning you a stern look as his large palms found the cheeks of your ass, patting your skin lightly, before he helped you move. The way he fluffed the pillows behind your back was almost tender, and your eyebrows pulled together in the slightest frown.

“Is your definition of ‘wringin’ it outta me’–” you mocked his drawl, “–fucking like a boring old married couple in missionary? Is that what you used to do with your wife?”

The way Joel’s eyes hardened made a smile break over your face. Quickly, you regretted the smile when his hand clasped around your wrist, bending it backwards towards the bed post.

“Hey! What are you doing?” you demanded, playfully fighting against his grip, but Joel was too strong.

“Behave.”

“But I hate that,” you exclaimed with a sigh, pushing your head back into the pillow.

His silk tie tickled against the thin skin under your wrist, and you had to turn your head to watch him as he tied your hand to the bed. The way he did it exuded no nonsense; his eyebrows were tied together in concentration as practiced fingers danced over the knots, testing them with a light tug.

“I’m givin’ you what you ain’t closed to earned– so you oughta be grateful, princess, ‘nd thank me,” he told you as he moved on to your other hand.

Joel raised an eyebrow at you when he grabbed a hold of it, daring you to put up a fight again.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

The way you said it was sugary sweet, and you knew he didn’t believe a word you said, but a pleased smile settled over his lips either way. Then his fingers found his belt, tugging it from his waist all in one go, his muscles moved under his skin from the strain. The leather felt harsher around your skin than his tie, but Joel made sure to not tie it to tightly. When he was pleased with you, he found his spot between your legs again.

His rough hands teased over your naked skin, eyes fixed on the way it gave way for him when he squeezed ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but watch him – there was nothing you could do now, your hands literally tied.

“I oughta tie these too I reckon,” he mused, pushing your legs wider, “but I’m outta rope,” he chuckled, way too pleased with his own joke.

“Ha-ha-ha,” you said, voice dry with an unimpressed look on your face.

Lowering himself, he placed playful lovebites to the soft skin of the inside of your thigh. The lower he got, the closer he got, you felt yourself brace for impact as your eyes found the ceiling.

You felt his hot breath first, gentle huffs against your spit-soaked clit. How soft his kiss was, you didn’t expect– didn’t expect the fluttering touch of his lips down your pussy, so gentle against the core of you. A stuttering breath caught in your throat, and quickly you melted against the pillows.

“Hey,” Joel caught your attention. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he let the scratch of his rough beard rub against the thin skin of your inner thigh. “Look at me, only me, you hear?”

He underlined his order with a soothing kiss to the sensitive skin, pulling a nod from you. Pleased, his lips skated downwards, teeth nipping playfully at the skin, leaving small bursts of electricity in the wake of his touch.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby– all wet ‘nd messy f’me.” Joel spoke with a deep bass, as two fingers found your seam, swiping them through your folds. “Listen,” he told you, as the slick sound of your arousal filled the cabin.

The beat in your chest seemed louder and louder in your ears the more he taunted you. You didn’t want to do this with Joel – fake it – feel that stone of disappointment sink into the depths of yourself as the orgasm you so desperately wanted fizzled away into nothing. Couldn’t he just rub your clit a little? Finger you instead?

With his fingers Joel spread you apart and a heat travelled up your neck. You felt so exposed, and you had to fight not to look away from him when he leaned forward with the flat of his tongue, tasting you. A breath caught in your throat like a reflex, and a low hum rumbled out of Joel’s chest, almost in… contentment. Your eyebrows met in a furrow then.

He couldn’t seriously like this?

He continued to lap at your folds, taking his time, and it felt… good, really good. When he licked a stripe from your hole to your clit, you couldn’t fight back your moan.

“C’mon, let me hear you, princess,” he said, his tone of voice way too cocky.

He latched on to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue in a way no man had ever done before. It was intense, sloppy, almost primal. Small, breathy sighs built in your chest, and you wished you could touch him, hold on to him.

Joel licked down through your folds again; his tongue teasing at your hole. “Is–” you cut yourself off with a surprised gasp, reeling from the way his tongue pushed into you. “Is t-this what you call e-eating pussy?” you tried again to taunt, far from convincing.

Joel didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, he switched his tongue with his fingers. The wet mix of your arousal and saliva made the slide easy. A breathy whimper escaped your lips when he curled them, hitting the spongy spot inside you and hurling you quickly towards your release.

“Fuck,” you sighed, bucking your hips against his lips closing around your clit again.

You couldn’t stay still, your hips moving erratically to meet the swipes and zigzags of his tongue. Never had it felt like this, this good, this perfect. His fingers moved easily in and out, in and out, with a slick squelch. Squeezing your eyes shut, Joel coaxed you closer and closer to your orgasm. The pads of his fingers hit you just right, massaging with every thrust. An increasing pressure swiweled in your stomach around the laps of his tongue around your clit. Your back moved on it’s own, arching off the bed as his makeshift restraints tightened with your movement. A hand found your ass then, holding you flush to his face and you felt yourself starting to wither.

“There she goes… my good girl,” he hummed against you, “Come all over my tongue, princess.”

You let the wave of pleasure wash over you with a broken scream. You didn’t have to fake a thing as your whole body shook with your orgasm. His fingers continued their pace, pushing through your spasming walls and prolonging your ecstasy. Every sigh and whimpering moan was real, and you lost yourself in the buzzing feeling of Joel taking you apart and putting you back together again.

When the aftershocks fizzled out Joel pulled his fingers, slicked up and soaked from your cunt. A cocky grin coated his face as he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking your cum off his fingers. When your eyes found his, something in them had you slipping under, a want so strong to drown in them.

He climbed off the bed, your blissed out gaze rolling over him as he removed his dress pants and underwear. You could feel yourself go doe eyed when he took his hard cock in hand, giving it a few practiced tugs as he studied you at his mercy, spread apart and dripping with a mix of your pearly arousal, his spit and your cum.

He was perfect; his broad chest, tanned under the Texan sun with speckled hairs trailing down his torso where it ended in a dark wiry patch at the base of his impressive cock. Your mouth dropped open in the smallest of o’s – you wanted to taste him again, feel your spit mixed with his precum on your tongue, the thick head of his cock knock at the back of your throat.

“Daddy…” you pleaded, putting on your best puppy dog eyes.

“What, princess?” he taunted, voice laced with fake pity as he climbed on the bed again. Letting go of his thick cock, he wrapped his hands under your armpits and hiked you upright against the pillows. Under him you couldn’t help but soften at the edges.

“What d’you want, huh? What does my slut want?” he continued, straddling your body, two strong thighs on either side of your torso. He was so close like this, veiny cock inches from your waiting mouth. Reluctantly, you tore your gaze away to find his eyes, focusing hard on finding your words as you could see him start to stroke himself again in your peripheral. The large head of his cock grazed your lips with every stroke, pearling a salty taste of precum for you to taste.

“Why do you ask, when you already know?” you said, your voice lacking your infamous bite. A smile tore at Joel’s face, and a rumbling laugh escaped him as he moved closer.

“Maybe my cock pluggin’ up that throat will make you behave f’me?” he mused, like he was speaking his inner thoughts out loud and you weren’t even there. “At least you’d be quiet for once.”

His other hand found your chin, then, robbing you of your answer as he squeezed at the flesh, forcing your mouth to pop open. “Kiss it for Daddy, princess,” he ordered, slapping his cock on your waiting tongue.

When he let go of your face, you wrapped your plush lips around his thick head, suckling wet kisses to the tip. A lewd moan escaped you at the familiar taste of him, his musk filling your nostrils. It was addicting, Joel was addicting, and you needed more.

The desperate whine you let out, earned you a reprimanding slap to your cheek. “Don’t get greedy now, ‘m gonna give ya what you want,” he told you and pulled back, while the sting prickled away. You couldn’t help the pout forming, and Joel was quick to sooth it away with his thumb tracing over your lips.

“Listen, baby,” he found your eyes, “You kick me, alright? You kick me ‘f you wanna stop.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Okay, what?” he demanded with a slap of his cock against your cheek, smearing glistening precum over your skin.

“Okay, Daddy,” you smiled and dropped your mouth open so he could feed you his cock – all the way this time.

“That’s it, my good girl.”

Eagerly, your plush lips wrapped around his cock, his heavy cock plugged up your throat as he made room for himself. You didn’t gag right away like last time, you had practice now. As he pushed himself deeper, his hand braced himself against the headboard, while the other cradled your head – his rough thumb skated gently over your skin as he gently rocked his hips.

“Fuck,” he moaned above you, “That’s it, slut, let me feel your throat open f’me.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to calm yourself, holding back your gag reflex as tears started to prickle at your eyes. Even with practice, Joel wasn’t easy to take. Your lips stretched wide around the girth of him, swollen and used as spit slicked up his pubes. With each rock of his hips you felt the bulbous head knock at the back of your throat, bruising your flesh.

The sight of you must’ve been pornographic; your throat bulging with every rock of his hips as your spit dripped down your chest, pooling at his thighs stretched over your chest.

A vicious gag choked you, and Joel pulled back quickly, his cock wet with your spit bopping heavily in front of you face. You spluttered between gasps of air, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth as tears ran in a steady stream, smudging your make-up. His hand cradling your head tightened slightly, tilting you to catch his eyes as something close to worry flashed over his face.

“Don’t close your eyes, you hear me?” his voice was strict, “‘nd I need ya to kick me!”

“Keep going!”

Your voice was hoarse and wet, but it didn’t seem to convince Joel. His face gave nothing away, stern and hard, teeth biting down a scowl – but his hands were tender, stroking at your skin.

“Ain’t ever been with a woman who’s as much of a slut as you I reckon,” he mused, his hand leaving your face to grip himself, tapping the length of himself against your skin.

“Embarrassing way to admit you haven’t been with a lot of women, Joel,” you told him, hiding your smile behind a soft kiss to the wet head of his cock.

“Jesus Christ.” A laugh escaped him, surprisingly light for someone out to punish you.

Moving your head, you started to press light kisses down his shaft, waiting for Joel to take control again, to punish you – like you ‘deserved,’ but all he did was a whole lot of nothing. When your tongue finally reached the base of him, your cheek pressed into the crease between his thigh and hip as your lips brushed gently against the soft skin of his balls – so heavy and full. Wrapping his hand around himself, he stroked in languid motions, like he savored it, wanted to memorize every calculated jerk.

“‘s that what you want, huh?” he asked, voice low and dark, almost tainting, and you couldn’t hold back the mewl escaping you. “Go on then, princess, suck on my balls like a good whore.”

With his other hand he guided one of his balls to your mouth. When you wrapped your lips around him, suckling gently at the sensitive skin, a deep groan fell from Joel’s lips.

“That’s good, princess, that’s so fuckin’ good.”

Being so close, breathing in the masculine musk of him, you almost squirmed under his weight, your cunt desperate and dripping with arousal. You felt so dirty, sucking on the balls of a man more than twice your age as he had his way with you. It would never feel like this again with anyone else – you knew it, you didn’t know how, but you did.

“C’mon, give the other one some sugar too.”

Humming out in an agreement, you let go with a pop as he guided the other ball into your waiting mouth for you to suckle around. The rhythm of his strokes picked up when you flattened your tongue, licking at the seam.

“God,” he groaned, “such a fuckin’ slut f’me– so fuckin’ desperate for my balls in your mouth–”

Joel cut himself off with a deep groan, as he backed up, making you chase after him as he held himself at the base, squeezing. Your restraints dug into your wrists, and you whined in defeat.

This bondage act was starting to get old.

“Gonna come already, old man?”

Joel didn’t seem to like your attitude, his joints cracking as he climbed back onto the bed, the welcomed weight of him now gone.

“That’s rich,” he spat, “coming from the one showin’ up here all desperate for me to fuck her.”

“Well, I’m waiting,” you told him with a roll of your eyes, voice bored.

That seemed to finally inspire some action in him. With stern eyes, and a stern grip, Joel parted your legs to slot between. The way his hands dug into your skin hurt, angry finger-shaped welts as he manuveroured you, had you wishing for the dizzying pain of a bruise tomorrow to remind you of this, of Joel.

Your hips bucked when you felt the blunt head of his cock against your clit, making him throw a hand over your waist to keep you still. A heat coated your cheeks when you heard it, the slick sound of your wet cunt as he dragged himself up and down your folds, coating himself in your desperation.

“Missionary?” you bit, fighting hard to hold back your moans as he teased at your dripping opening, “You’re so old fashioned.”

“I like to watch brats break when they finally get a cock in them,” he bit back, “Now beg f’mine.”

“No,” you hiccuped, with a weak shake of your head.

Joel played dirty – his thumb came up to graze over your clit, as he continued to tease his cock at your opening, pressing in slightly and then pulling out again just as quickly. He had you squirming for him in seconds, desperate to feel him make a home for himself inside you.

“Beg, brat.”

His thumb on your clit pressed down harder in tight, practiced figure eights, and you had no choice but to break. You needed him, needed Joel inside.

“Please,” you gasped, “Please, fuck me.”

But Joel continued circling his thumb, drawing you closer to the edge again. It got harder and harder to stay still as he pushed at your boundaries. Everything inside you screamed for him, like you were a piece of metal and he was the magnet. You couldn’t stay away, you’d always end up pressed against him.

“Whose cunt is this?” he demanded, suddenly hovering above you, dark eyes staring into yours. A large palm held your head in place, anchoring you to him, his face, this moment.

“Yours,” you whispered, “Yours, Joel.”

His name left your lips as a sight, the syllables stolen out of the air when he pushed at your opening, heavy cock splitting you in two and seating himself in your heat. He had your legs shaking, head lulling into his palm at the pleasurable pressure poking at the depths of you, where no one but Joel could reach.

“It’s okay, baby– you come on that cock if ya need to,” he hummed, a hint of condescension in his low voice as he continued to rub your clit.

Everything was coming to a head. Pleasure beamed through your body, like a supernova, as you exploded for Joel, shaking under his body as your eyes rolled back in your head. Whimpering moans stole your breaths, and you almost didn’t register Joel’s deep voice rumbling against the collum of your throat.

“C’mon… that’s it… good girl, that’s my good girl– y’feel so good, baby.”

His warm breath felt sticky against your skin, and you found yourself hoping he’d never leave; that you could somehow tattoo how he felt against you on your skin, let him mark you as his.

When your legs stopped shaking, Joel’s thumb stopped bullying your clit. He let you catch your breath, heaving chest slowing to steady rhythm again. His eyes found yours again, and for a moment they were almost tender, as something real started to weigh between you. You wanted to say something, anything, but Joel pulled away, hooking his arms under your knees before he finally started to pound into you, chasing his own high.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your walls already sensitive from the multiple orgasms he’d already given you. The way he split you open around the girth of him, it was always too much, you couldn’t see how you’d ever get used to the feeling of him.

Joel's breath got heavier as he picked up his pace, balls slapping wetly against your ass, as deep groans vibrated through his chest.

“That’s it, princess, you take it,” he rambled, “Good girl– go dumb on that cock f’me.”

His hands dug into your skin, his mind so caught up in you, in the way you felt squeezing around him.

Slap, slap, slap.

He was so deep, he must’ve fucked his way into your stomach. You felt yourself go limp in his arms, letting him take what he needed, letting him use you for his own pleasure.

“God, y’were made f’takin’ my big cock, baby.”

“Gonna fill up this pretty cunt– watch it leak outta ya.”

“Please,” you begged between harsh thrusts, your tits bouncing with every sway of his hips, “Please, come inside me, Daddy.”

With a particularly sharp thrust, his balls pulled tight against your ass, and Joel came. Deep groans of satisfaction filled your ears, the sweetest sound, as he pumped you full. He rutted into you until there was nothing left, your cunt overflowing with his sticky seed. A content sigh left your lips at the feeling, your body finally sated.

Thoughts traveled to the next moments, how you wanted him to pull you into his chest, strong arms pulled tight around your body as you both calmed down. To be held close in his embrace, a comforting hand at the back of your neck. You wanted him to kiss you, longed to feel his lips brush over yours. You searched for Joel’s eyes, searched for a small inkling of reciprocation.

Maybe you’d say something stupid – finally let go of all the feelings you can’t control anymore.

But Joel’s eyes didn’t want to catch yours, and he pulled away too quickly, sliding his softening cock from your ruined cunt. You were gonna make a mess of his sheets, you probably already had judging from the slick feeling on the inside of your thighs as you closed them.

Something in the air felt loaded suddenly, and you wanted to reach for him, touch his rough skin and ground yourself away from your nagging insecurities– But you couldn’t, your hands were bound. His strong back muscles moved under his skin as he fished his shirt from the floor, now crinkled, ruined.

“Wanna go again?” you tried, pushing at his back, barely out of reach, with your foot.

He let you push at him, but the sigh he let out as he stood to his feet to get dressed had your stomach tie itself in a knot.

“This ain’t happenin’ again,” he sighed, getting dressed.

“Sure,” you nodded in a scoff, unconvinced as a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. Between your legs you felt yourself start to leak, his thick spend running down your folds to your ass, and onto the sheets.

When he finally turned around, large fingers fiddling with the small buttons of his shirt, his eyes finally caught yours. Biting down on your lip, you spread your legs coquettishly, showing him where he’d claimed you.

His eyes, however, never wandered, the familiar warmth that you had seen barely a few minutes ago now gone, his expression stoic and unreadable. You felt the knot in your stomach from earlier tighten.

“I’m serious,” he told you, and almost on instinct you felt your legs close as he leaned over you, untying one of your hands, “You ever pull something like this again, and it’ll be the last time you ever see me.”

You felt your face drop despite yourself as he untied the other hand, the corners of your mouth straightening out as a small frown appeared between your brows. You were silent for a moment as Joel walked to the other end of the room, plucking his jacket up off of the chair. Your eyes tracked his movements apprehensively.

“I thought you liked it when I behaved this way,” you said eventually, and you hated the way your tone sounded. You had meant for it to be a challenge, a call-out of his hypocrisy, but instead you sounded like a child; disappointed and petulant.

“Listen,” he started, voice calm but with a seriousness that made a nervousness tug at the back of your neck. “You’ve had your fun, and I can tolerate a lotta shit, but–... you gotta learn some fuckin’ boundaries.” Your frown only deepened at his words.

“Comin’ here–” his voice stalled as he shook his head, shrugging on the jacket “This is my family, my brother’s wedding– my fuckin’ daughter is here… You can’t just show up in my life like some kind of trainwreck every time you need me to fuck you.”

“How else am I supposed to do it? You don’t exactly text,” you bit back, “And don’t pretend like you don’t like it,” you fumbled for a retort.

“That’s just a shitty excuse for unacceptable behaviour, and you know it,” Joel said, and you felt yourself get angry at how calm he was.

It was embarrassing; your cheeks burned bright like a flame, and it fueled a deep pit of annoyance inside of you, one you didn’t even know existed as your jaw bit down in a clench. Lifting your chin in a defiant scoff, you’re not proud of the next words out of your mouth.

“You’re full of shit,” you said with a shake of your head, “You’ll barely last a week and you know it... you love it, love putting me in my place like this.”

“Sure I do,” Joel said with a nonchalant shrug, “But I sure as shit didn't sign up to deal with your antics... that’s a job for your real Daddy, sweetheart.”

That last comment felt like a slap in the face. A job for your real Daddy. In your chest you felt something cave in, as a paralyzing shock swept over your body. You went cold, so cold as your eyes drifted past Joel, and swiveled into the wood walls. He was right, Joel was right, but you never imagined he’d slap you in the face like this with the truth.

“So, listen up now, this is what you’re gonna do,” Joel said as he stepped towards you, looking you straight in the eye, ”You're gonna take your shit, ‘nd your shitty attitude, ‘nd you're gonna quietly slip outta here ‘nd pretend like you were never even fuckin’ here in the first place. ‘s that clear?”

You were barely able to nod before he stepped back and turned his back on you. When his hand found the doorknob, he threw you one last look.

“You better not be here when I get back.”

part four -> here!

hopefully this was okay? please let me know what you thought of the new part! a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us smut #tlou smut #tlou fanfic #brat!reader #pedro pascal

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cheerleaderman · 14 hours ago

Note

NOT YUYA WITH AN ACTUAL SHARK 😭😭😭 there name is Shakisha

“Where did you get that?” “I got the smoothie from the lounge”

Honestly this whole meme represents Yuya to a T because they just have stuff that no one knows how or where they got it from.

You just got sharked, send a picture of a shark to 3 of your moots. nothing really happens, but sharks are cool⭐️✨

HELP RGJLEBNLRK A DELAYED RESPONSE BUT YEAH SURE DID GET SHARKED

#Took the name beast tamer and ran with it #Lizette and Beau being frightened 😭😭#cheer!yuya #cheer!moots #mutual’s art #mutual oc #art by others

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thebearer · 1 year ago

Text

the bearer blurbs: carmen berzatto | 1 |

carmen gets jealous

touch starved carmen

carmen with a daddy kink

carmen takes care of you when you're sick

getting your first tattoo with carmen

carmen begging to eat you out

casual dominance with carmen

ass eating blurb

being carmen's taste tester

dom!carmen

making out with soft dom!carmen

asshole to the world but not the girl trope

casual/heavy-ish dominance with carmen

you get hurt, carmen comforts you

blowing carmen in the kitchen

you're stressed and carmen helps

brat tamer!carm making you ride his cock

carmen makes a decision for the restaurant without asking you

quiet calm fluffy mornings with carmen

more casual dominance with carmen

carmen making you say nice things about yourself during sex

making carmen comfort food

how you and carmen meet (customer pov blurb)

richie's speak now moment

carmen dating someone just like him

safe foods with carmen

dom!carmen spanking you with the wooden spoon part two

pete comforting you through your first berzatto family reunion

first family as a couple

eras tour with carmen (ft. richie)

carm w/ inexperienced gf

i wish i'd never met you part two

carmen comforts you after a bad day

bad self talk/ reader skips meals blurb comfort/ angst

doing carmen skincare

drunk reader tells carmen "i have a boyfriend"

size kink smut

cutting carmen's hair

casual dominance with carmen 3

chain dangling smut

boudoir shoot for carmen

dom!carmen hcs

anal training smut

"drop the attitude" with dom!carm

defending pete blurb

shy reader having a crush on carmen blurb

carmen picks up drunk reader from girl's night fluff (horny edition)

stressful day unwind with carmen

carmen's sixth sense for when you don't eat fluff

punishment with dom!carm

you didn't tell carmen about your big achievement (angst/comfort)

jewelry smutty drabbles with carmen

giving carmen the silent treatment

the fire in the apartment with established relationship

carmen buying you flowers

aftercare with dom!carmen

carmen asking you to move in with him

you have a bad relationship with your dad (ft uncle jimmy) blurb

carmen fucking you with lingerie on smut

carmen comforts you through an anxiety attack

part 2 blurb of the feeling aka the karaoke double date

carmen catching you masturbating in his shirt

brat tamer!carmen spanking you

protective carm with younger (early 20s) gf in college

mutual masturbation w/ inexperienced carmen

soft!dom!carmen doting on stressed reader

the honeymoon smut

first christmas

casual dom carm giving you vitamins

carmen cheers you up after a bad day

casual dom carm giving you your medicine

carmen tying your shoes

carmen "recharging" himself

praise kink carmen

carmen cooking your comfort meal

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hellishjoel · 1 year ago

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off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire.

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service.

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer.

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen.

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal.

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips.

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours.

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless.

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance.

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted.

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath.

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck.

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught.

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school.

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps.

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right?

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction.

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine.

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat.

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest.

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic.

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days.

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump.

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes.

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle.

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt.

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus.

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone.

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded.

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through.

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller.

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes.

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied.

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle.

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over. You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right?

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party.

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone.

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed.

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance.

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone.

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head.

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms.

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more.

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements.

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact.

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-”

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked.

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that.

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it.

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger.

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it.

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand.

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out.

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox.

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head.

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin.

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore.

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement.

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts.

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight.

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was.

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit.

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap.

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty.

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it.

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task.

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed.

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already.

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat.

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh.

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded.

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile.

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance.

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit.

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids.

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes.

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel.

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over.

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart, feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse.

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat.

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully.

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it.

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there.

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked.

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit.

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling.

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him.

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle.

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation.

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him.

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did.

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans.

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips.

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore.

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth.

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing.

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat.

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs.

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down.

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state.

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you.

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him.

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat.

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved.

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure.

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed.

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat.

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise.

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans.

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for.

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss.

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop.

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create.

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face.

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel.

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body.

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate.

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him.

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name.

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat.

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving.

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place.

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face. As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs.

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth.

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty.

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used.

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more.

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better.

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him.

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue.

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness.

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind.

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor.

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer.

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile.

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours.

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him.

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire.

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer.

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller

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cheerleaderman · 4 months ago

Text

“Welcome to the cave of Wonders , would you like a sample?…Did I do that right”

[SR] Nadira Kader - Iago’s Paradise

Fan event by @natsukishinomiyaswife

Nadira is out of the basement 🙌 had to draw since she’s based of the cave of wonders

Voice lines under cut

Groovy: [locked]

Home: I never had to work before…I hope I don’t mess up

Home idle 1 : there’s so many different flavors you can choose from and some of the toppings are based off of treasures .

Home idle 2 : I prefer to make the ice creams, I don’t want to interact with people that much.

Home idle 3 : Flori is much calmer here than at school when someone gets injured, he’s probably cursing them in his head though.

Home idle- login : Hello there, are you ready to order?

Home idle-groovy : [locked]

Home tap 1 : The kids very like Tamer despite his more harsh attitude, I’m sure he likes them also

Home tap 2 : kids have been calling me Ms. Wonders since I look like the stand’s mascot

Home tap 3 : Ah! It’s starting to get busy, sorry I need to focus

Home tap 4 : The food is pretty good at Prince Ali’s but I still prefer my step mom’s dish

Home tap 5 : I’m having so much fun decorating the ice creams that people are starting to request similar ones…it’s too much attention

Home tap-groovy: [locked]

#cheer!art #cheer!nadira #cheer!twstcard #iagosparadise #I have so many ideas for this #I need to do Tamer #twst fan event #twst #twst oc #art #twisted wonderland #artists on tumblr #twisted wonderland oc #oc art #digital art

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lovelinoss · 9 months ago

Text

nonidol!seungmin x afab!reader

college!au

Warnings : smut. MDNI!! adult content below, brat tamer seungmin?, use of pet names, enemies to lovers trope?, unprotected sex (no not do this), tutor seungmin, etc.

a/n : this has been stored in my drafts for so long unfinished.. but i decided to finish it and its so bad?! im gon sob. Butttt… my inbox if always open for req so feel free to ask !

wc: 5k (5,069)

“Can’t you see where you’re going?!” the guy in front of you said. More like above you, since you were on the floor with your books everywhere and your spilled coffee to the side. It was so embarrassing, trying to get into the library’s “office” room for people who study or work to get some work done when you ran into this guy on his way out.

I mean what a jerk, right? It was your fault, but a person who was thinking straight and is a decent human being would have said “it’s okay” and help you up!

The concrete floor was cold, the winter days adding more of this chilliness. Your bottom hurt from the fall. You just looked up at him to see his face in an annoyed scrunch. He noticed you staring and he met your gaze. He sighed.

“C’mon, get up,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You looked between him and his hand. You reluctantly reached out for it, grasping his hands. He tugged backwards for you to get up.

“Thanks.. i guess,” you said, dusting off your coat and crouching down to pick up your books.

“Is that how you thank someone?” He said, catching you off guard. You stood up after picking up your books.

"What?" You responded, staring at him. He raised his eyebrow, making it seem like he was intimidating you.

"Want me to say it again?" he said, crossing his arms with his backpack slung over his shoulder. "is. that. how. you. thank. someone?"

"Fucking no!" you yelled out of frustration. "What as in is that something to say to someone? Are you this rude on a daily basis?"

“Whatever,” he shrugged, bumping into your shoulder as he left his own way. That was so obvious that it was on purpose! You could feel the way he smirked once he walked away.

What the fuck. Who even was he?

You’re mind was on this random guy the whole time you were trying to study. Trying to right down your notes in your notebook would just lead you back to slamming your fist on the table out if frustration. You sighed, leaning back against the chair you were sitting in. It’s been 2 hours and you barely got your work done. You were tired. You were frustrated. You need a break.

You left your stuff as is on the single desk. No one in the library cared enough to steal stuff. It was never said so, but everyone knew that no one steals stuff in the library.

You walked into the nearby convenience store once you got out, wanting to get some snacks and some coffee to keep you awake all night.

You reached the area where they kept the drink when you spotted your favorite brand of coffee sitting on the shelves. Lucky for you, it was the last one. You cheered mentally, walking over to grab it.

However, when you were reaching your hand out to grab it, another hand reached it first, grabbing it off the shelf. You turned to your left to see who stole your coffee. And nonetheless, it was the guy that you bumped into earlier in front of the library.

“You!” You screamed, glancing over to the coffee in his grasp. He was tossing it up like he won a battle or something, like a victory prize.

He groaned.

“Not you again,” he sighed, turning around to head over to the register.

“Wait!” You screamed, making him turn back to face you. You really didn’t mean to call him out like that. But you were desperate. No other coffee brand fit your taste. “Give me that coffee.”

“What? Are you fucking crazy. Finders keepers, losers weepers,” he said. “Go cry to your mommy about it.”

This son of a bitch.

"C'mon. Give me that coffee. Be a gentleman, would you?" you told him, reaching your hand out.

"What, no." he shrugged, shaking the can of coffee in his hand right in front of your face. "It's mine now."

This infuriated you. Who does he think he is?

You snatched his hand away. He looked a bit shocked for a second, before his "O" shaped mouth turned into a smirk. How could anyone be this annoying?

"FINE!!" you yelled, crossing your arms. "keep that stupid coffee all for your stupid self."

He shook the can in front of you for a second before dropping his hand, knowing you would swipe it away again.

"Okayy~" he said. "My stupid self will take this stupid coffee and leave~" he mockingly said. He turned around and walked to the register, laughing.

You cursed him in your head a million times, opening to fridge door to get a random cup of coffee you never tried before. This'll have to do.

୨ৎ

"fuck!" you screamed, jumping out of bed turning off your alarm clock. You were late. Late for your last class of the season before your exams. You sighed, running over to your bathroom to get ready.

Finally after around 7 minutes, you surprisingly got ready in comfortable sweatpants and a sweater, fitted nicely for the cold weather. You rushed toward your class building, running in and finally reaching your lecture hall.

"Ms Y/LN, you're late." your professor, Lee Minho, announced for the whole lecture hall to hear. Embarrassed, you bowed to him quickly, a way for you to say sorry, and quickly found your seat next to Felix, your best friend.

"Were you on your phone all night again?" he asked you as you sat down next to him, sighing.

"What? No!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms and glaring at him. "Who do you think I am?"

"Then what were you doing?"

Before you could answer him, your professor hit his pointer stick on his desk to get everyone's attention.

"You guys all remember about the exam you guys are taking in 2 days, yes?" he asked, followed by a unison of yes's. "Well good. I know some of you are having a bit of trouble studying. This is why I have a special guest."

That was when a figure walked through the lecture hall door dressed in a simple oversized t-shirt and sweatpants, followed by a backpack slung over one of his shoulder. You groaned when you saw the figure's face, sighing as Felix looked over to you for any answers. It was the guy that you kept running into. That jerk who had no manners.

"This is Seungmin, everyone." Mr lee announced, putting a hand on his shoulder. So that was his name. "He was top of the class last semester. He did leave.. worst decision, am i right? But he did agree to help students who are having trouble with the exam, since he too had to take it before."

That was when you noticed that he noticed you in the small crowd of people sitting in the lecture hall. He smirked. He fucking smirked.

"Do you know him?" You heard lix saying.

"Remember that guy I told you I ran into? That's him!" You complained, hiding your face into the palm of your hands as you let out a loud sigh.

"Oh girl.." he said, letting out a small airy laugh.

"If you are having trouble, sign the paper that is sitting on my desk at the end of the class. You'll have small, extra classes with Seungmin whenever you choose to, since the sign up sheet has time slots for each person. You could choose whether to have a 1 on 1 or a small group study session." Mr lee explained while Seungmin went over to his desk to hold up the sign up sheet.

"Stop." You whispered to Felix. "I need help. Like what the fuck are those questions on the study guide? ughh, but I can't ask him." you complained.

"Of course you can. Let's just sign up together for a group study session and we could stick together, yeah?" He offered. You accepted, knowing you had to get help in some way.

After class, Mr lee dismissed you guys so that you guys can either go and be free or sign up. You had to pack up, so Felix, who was faster than you, went ahead to sign both of you guys up.

You caught up with him soon after. His expression seemed bad.

"uhm.. so. Every group session that was available was full.. so I just signed up for a 1 on 1.. and that's the only option you also have."

"What!!'" you exclaimed, making way for you to see the sign up sheet for yourself. You groaned, looking at all the names that were next to the group study sessions. Well what choice did you have? You really did need some help to pass this exam.

୨ৎ

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! You repeated in your head while you were standing right in front of the door of the small mini lecture hall that is provided for students. Students such as Seungmin to tutor.

Based on the sign up sheet, you were the last one he was going to be tutoring. The campus was silent, with everyone being in their dorms or professors doing their own stuff.

You straightened your clothes, making sure he wouldn’t look down on you again, literally.

You pushed on the door, trying to make it open. Instead, a figure opened the door the other way, making you bump your head lightly and fall backwards. You fell, landing on your ass.

“Pfft” you heard. You looked up a bit, placing a hand on the spot on your forehead that got hit. It was yet again Seungmin who was looking down at you with a pair of glasses sitting lightly on the bridge of his nose. “Did you seriously try to push? It says pulls right below the handle.”

Oh.

“Ugh, whatever..” you protested, getting up by yourself, dusting your clothes off. “Why were you even coming out of that room? Now I have this bruise on my forehead..”

“I saw you struggling through the window,” he shrugged, going back into the mini lecture hall. “Come in when you’re ready.”

You groaned. This was not going to be a delightful hour.

୨ৎ

“Move this bla bla move that bla bla and the exponent bla bla graph this and the answer is….” Was all you heard while Seungmin sat in front of the desk you were sitting at, using his pencil and scribbling all over the paper. “Now you try.”

“Huh.”

“Huh,” He said mockingly, pushing his glasses higher. “Were you seriously not listening to me?”

“Not really..”

“You think you’re gonna pass the exam like this?”

“No..”

“Ok here. Let me explain it again. You see the first digit? Get that and multiply these to get the term. These terms are common, yes? Multiply them.”

He continued to explain, saying how this is a part of the easier questions.

“You try.” He said, placing the pencil he was holding in front of you, glancing at the pencil indicating for you to start.

After about 3 minutes, you placed the pencil down. Seungmin turned away from his own study to look at it.

“Nice. You got that right. Let me give you 3 more questions.” He said, quickly jotting down numbers, letters, and symbols. “There. Can you try these?”

You nodded.

10 minutes passed, and you handed the paper to him. He looked over your answers, nodding at some and squinting at others.

“This one’s wrong.” He explained, turning the paper so that you could see it and pointing at the second one you did. “Look at it again. Can you point out what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. It looked right in your eyes, but obviously it was wrong.

“On the second step you made a mistake. Simple mistake. You multiplied these wrong.”

“Oh.” you simply stated, grabbing the paper again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Unless you’re apologizing for how you’re wasting my time.”

“Whatever, jerk.” you fought back, grabbing your pencil and fixing your mistake.

Quickly, you handed him back the paper.

“There.”

“Ok.. that’s better.” He said, taking off his glasses. “Time’s up. Come back tomorrow, same time, yeah?”

You groaned loudly, loud enough so that he could hear you.

“Do you not want to pass your exams?”

“Never said that! It’s just a pain in the ass to be taught by you, especially.”

“Seems like someone doesn’t want to pass.” He remarked, packing his backpack with the books he had.

“No i do!” You said, packing your own things in your bag. That’s when you noticed him taking something out of his backpack.

“Here. For you.” He said, sliding over a can of coffee, your favorite brand, across the table.

“Ew.” you said, gliding it back.

“Didn’t want to say this but this girl that has a crush on me bought it for me. Gross! Take it. It’s gross like you.”

You scoffed.

“I don’t need coffee from someone like you.” You remarked, sticking your tongue out at him before running away and leaving the classroom.

“Brat.”

୨ৎ

“How was tutoring?” Felix asked you as you sat down minutes before your lecture with Mr lee started.

“It sucked! Total pain in the ass, yknow.”

“Well me personally it did help. I understood it more,” Felix said, patting your shoulder to comfort you. “He even said i was good enough that I don’t have to come back today!”

“Lucky!!” You exclaimed, pouting at him. “He told me I had to come back today. I suck.”

“It’s fine. As long as you pass the exam, yeah?”

“I guess.”

That’s when Mr lee tapped his pointer stick on his desk.

“I heard some students who signed up yesterday did very well! And i also heard some students still need more help. If you have any questions, feel free to go ask Seungmin in lecture hall 4a after this lecture is over.”

Obviously you knew you had to go again. He said it himself. How you dreaded for the moment lecture ended.

୨ৎ

“Ughhh. You’re back.” Seungmin said the moment you walked in through the door. He was leaning back against his own chair, legs crossed with a simple sweatpants and a white tank top with a windbreaker on.

You scoffed.

“You told me to be back, idiot.” You said, sitting down in your seat you were in last time.

“idiot?” Seungmin said in disbelief, letting out an airy laugh.

“Yes. Idiot.” You spat out, crossing your arms along with your legs, leaning back against the chair.

You were wearing a denim skirt today with tights underneath it with a white tank top, topped with a thick jacket over it. You were planning to hang out with your friends later that day, just to get some stress off before the exam tomorrow. With your legs crossed, your skirt rid up your thighs, making you more exposed. You didn’t care, you barely even noticed.

But he did. Seungmin did.

Your plush thighs wrapped around the tights had him staring for a second, looking back up at you in your eyes with a glare.

“Fucking brat.”

What? What did he just call you?

“What?” You said in disbelief, rolling your eyes and glaring up at him. “What did you just call me?”

“You really aren’t the type to listen, aren’t you?” He said, walking closer to you. “I said you’re a fucking brat.”

“What the fuck? Why are you so-“ you started to say. But before you could even let another word out, he leaned down, putting his face as close to yours as possible. You felt his breath every time he exhaled. You were squirming in your seat. Why was he so close? It was obvious that Seungmin was the good looking type. It was a fact. You even overheard some girls while walking to your lecture saying how hot he was. You never really saw it until he put his face close to yours until it was only a centimeter away.

His eyes were dark, alluring you into his deep, dark brown eyes. His nose was pretty sharp, with light, natural blush covering his cheeks. You looked down even more. His lips were as plush as marshmallow. So plush. So soft to the point you wanted to kis-

What? Why were you thinking this? You don’t like Seungmin. You hate him. So why was your core pulsing around nothing and wetting your panties every second.

“Tell me you don’t want this” he said under his breath. “I’ll stop.” But you didn’t answer, staring into his deep eyes, wanting him.

“please..” you whispered. You heard a faint brat before grabbing your chin with one hand, placing the other on the desk next to you to steady himself, and leaning in to kiss you.

Why the hell did he kiss you?

Truth be told, he liked you ever since he glanced over and saw you studying your ass off one day during his library visit. You looked cute. Your round glasses perched on your nose bridge that you got rid of when it was day time with a lollipop in between your pink, plump lips.

Then, he saw you sometimes in the hallways, all flirty and talkative with your gfs and your friends. You seemed so bratty with the way you talked with your friends. It was hot.

When he bumped into you that one day, he couldn’t help but be happy. That was also when he realized that you were definitely a brat.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he sometimes came to him dorm, lock himself in his room, and jack himself off to the thought of you. To the thought of him brat taming a bitch like you. You under his hands squirming while taking in his cock in your tight cunt. Imagining this would only lead to soiling his clothes he was wearing.

He couldn’t help it.

You were already hot enough when you didn’t wear make up, but seeing you all dressed up would make him go crazy. Like you were all dressed up for him. For his cock.

Your lips were like cushion against his. So soft. So warm. So hot.

You whimpered into the kiss, which he quickly swallowed. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, making you slightly part them, allowing his tongue to intrude your mouth.

Out of breath you pulled back with a saliva string still connecting you and Seungmin. You were panting, looking up at him.

“J-jerk” you managed to stutter out, not sure why you said it. He got face to face with you again, landing light slaps onto your cheek.

“Are you gonna listen to me, brat?”

You whined a bit at the pain you felt on the right side of your face. He chuckled.

“You like pain? Are you a pain slut?”

You nodded slowly. No one knew this. It was your own little secret. But the stare Seungmin gave you was so endearing it just came out of you. He smiled, grabbing you by the wrist to pull you up. He swung you, making you hit the edge of the table. He leaned closer yet again. “Gonna let me do what I want?”

You smirked a bit, nodding slowly yet again.

He leaned in to make out with you again. Which you gladly accepted. Mid-kiss, his hands slowly went down to grab you by the waist. He lifted you up, placing you to sit on top of the desk. He pulled away. You were squeezing your thighs, trying to get some friction to your core. That was when he took his hand and started to grope your plush thighs. You let out a sigh of a moan.

“Open for me, yeah?”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You said, glaring at him.”

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

You did as he said contrast to your words, slowly spreading your legs out for Seungmin. He grinned. Oh how you wanted to slap the fuck out of him. He took his jacket off at that time, too, revealing his pretty slender arms with muscles hidden underneath. It wasn’t very visible, but him being so close to you, you saw the hidden veins in them and it turned you in more.

His slender fingers started to rub your clothed core, making you whine.

“W-wait.” You looked up to him. “What if we get caught? The door is unlocked.”

“Better keep quiet than, yeah?” He smirked, grinning a proud smile as he made his way toward your tight’s waistband, until you heard a loud RIP.

“What the fuck?!!” You exclaimed looking down to see a big, gaping hole in your tights in your crotch area. “You better pay for those.”

All he did was shrug, before bringing his fingers closer to your panties, gliding his digits over the lace on the fabric.

“Lace, huh?”

He slid his fingers over your clothed cunt, gathering the wetness that was dripping out of you, making a wet patch on your panties.

“You’re so wet. All wet for me baby?”

You nodded, looking down at his fingers go to work on you. They were long, in general, his hand size was huge.

“Can I?” He asked while tugging slightly at your panties. You looked dazed, not even wanting to fight it off. You wanted this. He took that as a yes, sliding your panties to one side, the cold air now hitting your warm cunt. You winced at the feeling. You felt his digits going below, but without any warning, his cold finger penetrated your warm cunt, making your whine out at the feeling. It really was long. The cold added an extra bit of sensation. Seungmin chuckled, landing a peck on your cheek.

“Baby can’t handle one finger?”

You shook your head. Who did he think you were.

“I c-can” you muttered out, which allowed him to slide in a second finger. You grabbed onto his bare forearms to balance yourself. He curled his fingers in and out of you, making whines and moans fall out of your lips. His long, slender fingers reached your g spot, making you bend over with high pitched whimpers falling out of tour mouth.

“Shh,” he quieted you. “Remember, there still might be some people outside.” You covered your mouth with your hand, making him laugh, still curling his fingers deep into you. He knew there was barely any people on the campus at this time, let alone this building. But why would he tell you that?

He pulled out his digits, making you cry from the feeling of loss.

“Seungmin, I want you.” You whined, but he shut you up with his fingers that were just inside of you. You groaned at the taste of yourself, looking up at him with teary eyes from both pleasure and yearn.

He felt his cock grow harder in the confinements in his pants. You teary eyed with your mascara running loose slowly but surely.

“You’re gonna get me, alright? Just be patient, brat.”

He pulled away his digits out of your mouth, giving a small kiss on your lips before pulling his pants down.

It was hard to see due to the bagginess of his sweatpants, but his growing bulge was clearly visible to you now. He was big. Or at least you could tell from the angle you were sitting in. Oh how badly you wanted his cock to penetrate you so deeply-

“You’re staring.”

You woke up from your thoughts, looking back up to look at Seungmin’s eyes. He’s smirking. He could tell what you wanted.

“Get down.” He said, nodding to the floor in front of him.

“What?” You fought back. “I’m not doing that! That’s gonna spoil my-“

“Didn’t you hear me? Get on the floor.”

A shiver was sent down your spine, along with the feeling of your panties getting wetter and wetter.

You obliged, slowly scooting off the table before you got on your knees, feeling the cold floor hit your warm skin. You were now face to face with his crotch, still confined. You looked up at him.

What was with you always below him and him always looking down at you with that condescending look?

He hooked his finger through the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down slightly, making his cock bounce up, his tip hitting his abdomen, and it was right in your face.

It was big. His cock was long with a bit of girth with veins running along his length. His red tip already spilling out some precum.

You looked back up at him to see him smirking the shit out of his face.

“Suck me off and I’ll see if you could have my cock, ok?”

You wanted to beat the shit out of him. Who did he think he was to control you like that.

But you couldn’t help it.

You leaned in a bit, now with your lips only a few centimeters away from the tip of his cock. You stuck out your tongue, coming in contact with his salty tip covered in precum. You winced at the taste. You wrapped your lips around his tip, now slowly taking in more and more of his length. You heard him groan. You smirked, still having his length in your mouth.

You slowly lifted your head, then going back in, repeating this movement while still hearing him slowly pant out.

“Fuck- you’re so stubborn” he grunted out before he grabbed your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He bobbed your head on his length himself, making you moan along with him grunting with the feeling of your warm lips wrapping around his length.

You moaned around his length, causing vibrations to hit his girth. He grunted.

Seungmin pulled you off his length, making you cough a bit, wiping the saliva that was dripping on your chin with the palm of your hand.

He pulled you back up, tugging your hair with his hand that was still tangled up in a makeshift ponytail. He brought your face closer, giving you a kiss before setting you back up on the desk.

Your pussy was throbbing, begging for attention. You pouted at Seungmin, who had a thirsty look in his eyes while eyeing your figure up and down while you were sitting there, neatly on his desk.

"Just fuck me already, min." you argued, looking up at him with a pleading look.

"Be patient, fucking brat." he retorted. Despite his words, he took his cock in his hand, stroking it slowly while staring at your face who was basically drooling at the sight of his tip disappearing and reappearing in the fist of his hand. You squeezed your thighs together, trying to get some friction on your cunt. He chuckled, noticing your expression and your movements. "You're eager, pup. I'll give what you want, just be patient, okay?"

The pet name made you squirm. Who knew you were such a slut for meager names?

He slapped your thigh, indicating you to open your legs so that your sweet cunt could be exposed for him. You obliged, opening them slowly until your wet pussy was out just for him.

"You obey easily, don't you? Just like a loyal dog." You nodded, eagerly, only focused on what would his cock feel like when he stretched you out. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a moan awaiting to come out just from the desire of his length.

He got closer, leaning in to give you a kiss on the lips, distracting you while he brought his cock closer and closer to your tight pussy. He pulled away, looking down to focus on you. He slapped your pussy with his hot length, making you wince from the sensation. It wasn't enough. You wanted more. No. You needed more.

"Just fuck me.. you're so slow, min," you pouted.

"Stop fucking complaining," he hissed, before lining his length against your hole and thrusting in without warning. You gasped, feeling his cock penetrate you so deeply. He grunted himself, feeling your tight walls engulf his length. "fuck- you're so tight pup."

You mewled as he pulled his length out, just for him to thrust back in, deep inside your soppy cunt. He thrusted for a bit, making you pant and a chorus of moans and whimpers fall out of your lips. He, too, let out groans.

He pulled you by the hair, forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes swelling up in tears as his rhythm didn’t stop.

“Look at me, pup.” You did. Focusing your attention on Seungmin’s face. He smirked. “Good little puppy, yeah?” he said before bringing you in for a sloppy kiss. Spit everywhere, drooling down your chin, teeth clashing as he thrusted into you. You whimpered, the pain in your scalp as he pulled you in closer. He let go, a spit string connecting both of your guys’ tongues.

“M-min,” you managed to whimper out. He hummed in response, grabbing you by the waist to thrust in deeper. You mewled. The knot in your stomach began to tighten, making you grip along the edge of the table you were so nicely placed on.

“Gonna cum, little puppy?”

you nodded fastly, moving your grip onto his tank top. It tightened, your grip as long as the knot in your stomach.

He maneuvered your right leg a bit higher, and with a final thrust, you came. Your jaw dropped, eyes shut as pleasure overwhelmed you as he kept hitting your cervix.

With a few more, he too, came, coating your walls white. You both breathed heavily together in unison. Looking at his face filled with pleasure was so.. so alluring. His eyebrows scrunched together with his eyes closed.

He pulled out, shoving his length back in his cock as he packed his bags.

“M-min?” You said in confusion, still practically naked sitting on top of his desk. He looked back up at you with his backpack hung over his shoulder.

“C’mon. Round two at my place.” He said it so casually, but also as a sort of question.

“Uh..” you muttered, hopping off the desk, smoothing out your skirt. “Yea-“

Before you even finished, he grabbed you by the wrist, turning off the lights to the mini lecture hall and leading you out the door.

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz smut #seungmin #kim seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin stray kids #seungmin imagines #kpop imagine #kpop

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muntitled · 1 year ago

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𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐬 | 𝐋.𝐉𝐡

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❝ 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 ❞

✧ Genre: Smut (M)

✧ Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

✧ Summary: “Did you bring me into the studio as your engineer or your whore?” He nods his head playfully jutting his bottom lip out as if he's pondering something vastly philosophical. “It can't be both?”

✧ Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Possessiveness, Jealousy, Bratty Reader, Weaponizing!Wonwoo, Fluff, Workaholics in Love, Teasing, Producer!Jihoon, Musical Engineer!Reader, Smut (+18), Daddy Kink, Neediness, Dom/sub dynamic, Coercion, Brat tamer!Jihoon, Dom!Jihoon, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Oral Sex (Male rec), Orgasm Denial, Breeding Kink

✧ Word Count: 3.9k

✧ Playlist when writing: Here

A/n: I love my boyfriend- I mean my bias.

Perhaps it was your fault. You should have known something was amiss the very moment Jihoon called you in the middle of your recording session with another artist. Your eyebrows furrowed when you picked up the phone, and you lifted one finger, signaling a quick recess to Wonwoo, who nodded calmly.

This was particularly uncanny because Jihoon never bothered you during work hours, and, in equal regard, you refused to bother him.

Out of respect for the craft, he refused to break you out of that very delicate mindset that he, as a creative, understood the significance of. Washington could be burning, and he still wouldn't dare interrupt you during work time. This somewhat sacred convenant was forged as a means to protect your relationship from your work personas. You did not particularly enjoy who Jihoon was when he assumed the sacremental identity of 'Woozi' and heavens knows you were equally as intolerable when you were stationed in front of a soundboard. You were both tyrants in your everyday lives, and even now, Wonwoo seems marginally relieved to have caught some semblance of a break as you huddle into the short corridor outside the studio.

So with a very perturbed but slightly worried voice, you swiped on the answer button and enquired, “Is everything okay?”

“No,” comes his instant reply. The knot between your brows have yet to unweave as you rest your back against a wall. Jihoon was by no means the most cheerful individual you had ever met, in fact, you prided yourself greatly on being the very few sources of genuine cacophony and laughter in his life. Seungkwan, of course, was your most fierce competitor.

Still, there is something grave in Jihoon's voice. It is a veneer of seriousness that is strange even for him. You had been able to gauge this sense of wabing patience in his tone just from one fickle like little word. 5 years in a vaguely conjugal relationship with a person would do that to you.

“I think I finally got the entire verse written.” Jihoon is surprised to find the lie tumbling so smoothly past the gates of his teeth, especially because he's normally so shit at lying. What was the point? When the person you were lying to had all your mannerisms memorized as if they were living in your body with you.

He taps his finger idly along the yellow notepad seated on his bouncing, restless knee. "We should record it now,”

You shake your head in complete discombobulation as you brought a finger to your lips in contemplation, "Why would you need my help? I thought you were working with another engineer."

His teeth grate irritably against each other, and he rolls his eyes in a flamboyant display of vexation as he exclaims, "Are you really in the mood to fish for compliments right now?" He asks tersely, "I should not need to tell you that you're my most trusted engineer,"

No matter how stoic your work persona was, she was not immune to flattery. The smile cracks the crevices of confusion along your visage, and Jihoon can almost feel the pleasure at his praise oozing through the phone.

"Now, if you'll please join me-"

“Can't." You respond. No matter how vulnerable you were to Jihoon's praises, you still remained fiercely loyal to your job. "I've got 20 more minutes in this session and after that I have to be at a meeting with the label, and I still have to go pick up that bouquet of flowers for our neighbor- you remember her cat passed on?"

"Just tell Wonwoo you have an emergency," Jihoon's reply has your eyes narrowing in skepticism. Not only was Jihoon fiercely independent, but he very rarely indulged you in his clingy side. Up until this very moment, you even doubted whether that side existed at all. "Cancel the meeting," he nods slowly, "And fuck the flowers, we hated that vermin anyway. Remember when her cat pissed in your peonies?" Jihoon ran his hand through his hair as he nodded with finality, "Fuck the flowers."

A sort of realization dawned within you, and you fought valiantly to keep the tone of self-righteousness out of your voice as you responded, “You're hijacking me from another artist.”

His hiss is instant and laced with venom, “Be glad I even allow you to work with another artist,”

Jihoon did not mean to slip up so badly, but he was also a man that would very rarely say anything that he did not actually mean.

“I don't like sharing,” he croons quietly over the line, “You know this.”

And so he let his words hang stagnantly in the air between you two, drying like wet, white linen in the wind. He pauses as if guaging your response to his raw words. Jihoon enjoyed doing this. He enjoyed giving you vague tidbits of what state of mind he found himself in without actually divulging his every thought. The ball was figuratively in your court, and he wished to see how you might respond.

Your throat clears your throat momentarily, letting your brain run rampant with myriad schemes. It was not very often that you would have the upper hand in your relationship. Dating someone like Jihoon, someone so comfortable being in control meant you constantly forfeited whatever power you had in your work life. Jihoon teased you. It was never the other way around.

"How badly do you want me there?"

"How badly do you want me to let you cum the next time I eat you out?" His voice is dripping with the weight of his threat and normally, you would find yourself quickly pushing yourself back into submission, but not this time. This time he needed you.

You are very secured in the realization that whatever reason Jihoon wanted you in the studio for - it was certainly not to record. There is a dangerous pool of excitement rushing through the conduit of your veins. He swears he can hear the titillating smile that blossomed across your face while you play idly with the Swarovski rock resting along your sternum. A gift from Jihoon. One of many.

“I don't know, Jihoon... What're you going to do for me in return? It's only fair that I'm adequately compensated for leaving a session."

"I'll let you cum tonight, I've already told you."

Jihoon is sitting reclined on his leather couch, his narrowed eyes piercing the wide soundboard directly in front of him. An egregious amount's worth of equipment sitting idly and completely untouched while his notepad sits on his lap, teasing him with its blankness.

Before he made the uncharacteristic choice to call you, Jihoon had been scrolling idly through his phone, in search of some bit of inspiration. He found himself opening his photos app, scrolling through his pictures that were filled mostly of you. Selfies you took with your face pressed against his unimpressed one. Mirror selfies showcasing what outfit you decided to wear, per his request and something else. Something he had forgotten he even had saved in his camera roll until the video was already rolling. At first glance, the scene was borderline animalistic. Jihoon's pale hand pressed down your arched back, while a steady hand recordinb you from above.

"That's a good girl-" he heard his own voice resonate through the speakers. It was like he was forced to meet his alter ego. A completey uncomfortable and fucking meta experience, especially because he was in the quiet of his studio.

Jihoon looked around his quiet studio, sensing no other infiltrating presence before he let his gaze fall back down onto the video. A deep shade of read crawled up his neck as he watched himself fuck you absolutely stupid from behind. You were both caught in a throws of your pleasure and incoherent words were thrown out in stuttering intervals.

"Fuck-Hoonie, I'm so close-"

"You're gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let daddy cum in that pretty fucking pussy? You gonna let me breed you-"

"F-Fuck, Daddy- I'm," Jihoon heard himself swear in the speakers, and the video went wobbly before it came to a cataclysmic end. It was taken a week ago, when you both sat down to watch a movie. Needless to say, no movie had been watched because you were abundantly touchy, and Woozi decided to let you be.

Even though the video came to an end, he could not peel his eyes away from the screen. He watched it one final time before he searched for your name in the call logs and dialed.

His mind was empty, but his capacity for lust was never-ending.

Now not only was he combatting brutal inspirational drought, but he was nursing a semi erect cock that made him so fucking uncomfortable.

He did not need this shit from you right now.

"Are you sure threatening me with an orgasm denial is the way you wanna go right now, Hoonie?" He hated the self-interested smirk in your voice.

“This is not the time to be a fucking brat,” he hisses, perhaps unintentionally on the line. “Just get here,”

But the teasing lilt has yet to disappear as you chide, “Not a particularly ethical way to address your one and only trusted engineer, is it?” You asked sweetly, voice dripping with the amount of honey it would take to fill a honey farm, “At least Wonwoo respects my work,”

He laughs humorlessly before rolling his eyes. “You talk a lot of shit for someone already making their way over here.” And unfortunately, you were. You had shot Wonwoo a very heartfelt apology during your sparring verbiage with Jihoon while still gathering your belongings to make a break for his studio. You became so unnaturally predictable in his presence, like a lonely mould of clay, glistening and ready to be shaped into anything of his choosing.

Right now, his biggest obstacle is the very vexing fact that once you made it into his studio, you drifted in with your nose stuck in the air and the expectation that he is to actually put in work. Woozi greets you at the door, eyes shamelessly taking you in from head to toe while you refuse to do the same. A pastel baby tee clings to your chest like a second skin while the ends of a small mini skirt combat the summer heat.

“It's freezing in here,” you remarked while Woozi ogled you unashamedly.

“Don't fuck with my thermostat,” he says dismissively before pulling you into an indulgent hug. “I like it cold,” and his arms travel under yours, pressing your softness flush against his front. His face buries itself in between your neck and shoulder, feeling his restless limbs finally be coaxed into some sense of satisfaction. His nose brushes against your cheek, essentially nuzzling himself against you in a vaguely primal gesture and he sighs.

“Fuck, you're so soft.” His hand rubs slow circles on your lower back. Circles that gradually increase in size. Woozi snickers quietly against your skin. Big mistake.

He definitely thought he was slick.

Before the palm of his hand could skim over the soft mound of your ass you break away quickly. Your smile is professional, almost vexingly robotic as you swing past him. Your braided ponytail swinging behind you as you make your way to bring a second leather chair beside his own at the soundboard.

“I'm here,” you said, “Time to work,”

Jihoon stands idly for a while. With his hands on his hips, his tongue stabs at the corner of his mouth, “You really are on a mission to piss me off today, aren't you?”

You ignore him, choosing instead to let your bewildered eyes fall on the empty notepad discarded on the soundboard. In your periphery, Jihoon rolls up the sleeves of his black button up, flexing his arms lightly as if he was battling demons not to pin you against that very soundboard.

Expensive equipment be damned.

“Let's get to work,” You huff, prompting Jihoon to run a frustrated hand through his mid length, black locks. Effectively making the wolfcut appear even more messy and unkempt.

You looked away, agitated, with your blood pressure shot to hell. This would be a very long session.

・✧・

And a very long session, it was.

Noon had faded to dusk and dusk had bled into starlight while you and Jihoon sat stagnant in the studio, surrounded by creative frustration and a different kind of frustration you refused to give the adequate amount of time to.

Woozi murmurs distractedly, peering down at the guitar sitting atop his lap. He toys with strings while you attempt to mix and master the wet bar on the computer screen, toying with the beat until you find something that stuck.

That is what you and Jihoon have resorted to during the course of this evening.

Your Gucci sneakers are kicked off underneath the desk and the bra you had initially walked in wearing, is now sitting discarded on Jihoon's couch. The both of you are accommodating to the stifling studio air. You find yourself grateful Woozi had kept the temperature cool as you were losing a dire war with under-boob sweat.

“Hit record,” he suddenly says, “I think I've got something,”

The tone that feeds from the guitar into the amplifier, is angelic, damn near perfect, but the look on his face once he pulls the final string is troubled. He quickly jots something down onto the notepad that had been filled considerably since this session began.

“You've got to be kidding me,” You say, releasing a wistful sigh as you peer at Jihoon sitting beside you. “That was fucking gold! Don't tell me you're not satisfied.” Jihoon is only able to shake his head before placing the guitar gently against the soundboard. “I know… but-”

“But?!” You're leaning over your seat, invading his bubble with your eyes blown to saucers.

“But…” He says teasingly before leaning closer to you, letting his eyes scan over your face as he slyly says, “I'd rather be fingering something else.”

His exposed forearms flex when he brings a hand up to toy with the Swarovski necklace that hangs from your collarbone. His voice is as smooth as the sap running steadily from tree bark in a fairytale forest. It's completely and utterly enchanting and you find yourself unable to pull back and sit back in your own seat.

“You look so pretty, you know that?” he whispers lowly, and you're fully convinced that he must know of the effect his voice has on you.

Fortunately for you, self control is something you take great pride in, and your voice is steady when you speak, but your torso is still leaning over onto his seat as you ask, “Jihoon, what is this?” You are completely spellbound when Woozi brings his fingers up to your chin. He examines your face like an art critic coasting the archaic halls of the most ancient museum. He knew exactly how to get you to melt and concede. “You know I had somewhere else to be,” you scold yourself for letting the words tumble out of your mouth in a desperate whisper.

He only snickers quietly, his eyes still roaming over your visage as he says, “You know his album isn't going to be better than mine.”

You find yourself completely mystified as Jihoon coaxes you over the barrier, until you're begrudgingly straddling him on his seat. Your breath falters as your skirt begins to ride high on your hips and Woozi's callused hands immediately hug the curves of your wide hips. He's staring up at you, and you're significantly elevated from your position on his lap. Height is completely on your side but you'd be stupid to discount the fact that he's in complete control here.

His hands rub dizzying circles on your thigh as he says, “Or don't you agree?”

“With what?”

“That my album will be better than Wonwoo's,” he states his petulance so casually it has you reeling. The blood coursing through your veins only has your mind doing somersaults trying to grapple onto your steadily declining sensibilities.

“Your album is not going to be much of anything if you keep bringing me here just to get your dick wet,”

“Oh! That's what I was doing?” He gasps in faux surprise before shaking his head, “I had no idea!”

You roll your eyes to the back of your head, although you're not quite sure if that's out of vexation or the wave of lust that hits you when Woozi brings your core down flush against his lap.

“Seriously Jihoon,” you say, unable to keep the gasp from rolling out of your mouth, “Did you bring me into the studio as your engineer or your whore?”

He nods his head playfully jutting his bottom lip out as if he's pondering something vastly philosophical.

“It can't be both?”

The whine you release from your throat is downright lascivious as Jihoon buries his face in between your neck and shoulder. This time, however, you're unable to break apart. His iron grip keeps you firmly pressed against his lap, guiding your hips back and forth. A sharp shiver wracks through your spine when Jihoon slips out the tip of his tongue to lick small innocent kitten licks at the skin underneath your ear. You're positively buzzing with untapped energy that he only seems pleased to continue to build upon. Until you are coming undone at the seams.

You're not even sure whether your hips are grinding down on his bulge out of your own accord or his hands gripping the skin of your thighs.

“Jihoon, we should be finishing the track-”

“We've done enough,” he says before reattaching his lips to your neck, this time sucking and kissing violently at your sensitive skin. You're grinding down further, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers weave into the roots of Woozi’s long hair. “What if someone walks in?” you whisper, although, now Woozi is starkly aware that your words are carrying the weight of your own fantasy, “I really think we should get back to work,”

“Fuck me, you smell so good,” He breathes out, pulling back to reveal a flush face. Woozi’s cheeks are ruddy and his wolfcut is in complete disarray under the oppression of your tight grip.

You're moving your hips much more hurriedly against his lap and he never stops you. In fact, Jihoon slyly pushes his hand up underneath your shirt, his palm immediately making direct contact with your pert nipples.

“F-Fuck, Woozi.”

“I know baby, I know,” he murmurs, rolling your nipple between his fingers as your wetness seeps out through your underwear, right onto his lap.

“Shit, baby. You're such a messy fucking girl….” He's absolutely fargone under the gaze of lust. Murmuring incoherence as he pushes his hips up to meet your swollen clit. “My little girl is so fucking messy-”

“Jihoon- I'm gonna cum-”

“No you're not,” he says, immediately stilling your movements, bringing your restless hips to a crashing halt.

“Jesus- what the fuck?!” You're absolutely livid. Your limbs tremble not only, under the weight of your anger but by the strength of the orgasm that was going to wash over you.

“Earlier,” Jihoon says, “You asked me to finish this track but I don't know if I'm in the right headspace to finish it.” Your brows furrow in confusion and your voice resounds throughout the studio as you ask, “What!?”

“I said,” Woozi's hand slyly moves from your thigh, up your torso until he's resting it on the top of your head, as if he were petting you, “I don't think I'm in the right head… space,” he removes the hair tie from your hair, letting the braids scatter down your shoulders.

You immediately catch his drift.

“I've lost so many hair ties around here,” You say, “I'm sure you have a collection somewhere,”

Jihoon's tone is nonchalant as he applies a certain pressure on your head, “Mantle on the east wall, top drawer on the right. I keep them all.” he says before pushing you down, off his lap, until you were kneeling in front of him.

“Now, I need to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, Baby.” He whispers, letting his thumb sink inside your mouth while his other hand unbuttons his slacks.

He is only able to lower his slacks enough to uncover his gardener cock, red and aching before he's pushing your head down onto it. Your lips fall open around Jihoon's cock and he immediately throws his head back. Cursing wildly before fisting your hair in a deathly grip that has you whining around his cock.

“Fuck I love the pathetic noises you make. It's so fucking hot.” His chest rises and falls feverishly as he forces you to take even more of him into your hollowed out mouth. You clench your toes and fight to take him in, until the tip of his cock is hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck!” He hisses, keeping his other hand locked in his own hair as if he's utterly in awe of the sight of you. “You're such a good slut, you know that?” His words of affirmation does a terrific job at motivating you to allow him to steadily fuck your throat. His hips rise and fall from the couch, hitting that spot at the back of your throat that has his cock twitching in warning of his load fast approaching.

You ready yourself to swallow every single bit but it never comes, and Jihoon is forcing your head off his cock. A string of saliva breaking from your lips to the tip of his glistening cock.

“Sit on my cock-” He's already pulling you back onto your lap as if you are nothing more than his plaything. .

“fuck- n-need to cum inside you.” He doesn't take your panties off, only pushing the material to the side before he's spearing you onto his dick with reckless abandon. The tempo that he immediately sets is animalistic and hurried and absolutely sloppy. You fight to catch up.

“Fuck-Jihoon-” Once you adjust to the stretch, you're trapped in a state of interminable lust.

“Move this,” he breathes out, roughly pushing your shirt over your chest, “Need to see your pretty fucking tits,” his hands immediately latch onto your breasts and the sensation of being so utterly consumed by him as you riding his dick faster and harder.

“Fuck, just like that, baby. Just like that, pretty girl.” His head rolls backwards and you shudder as you orgasm sneaks up on you like a thief in the night. Your walls close tightly around his dick and Jihoon's cock twitches inside you.

“Shit- you're fucking clenching around me, baby,” He says, bringing his head back to gaze lovingly up at you-

“Please cum for me Jihoon-”

He's nodding non stop as he fucks up into you before burying his face between your breasts. You never stop riding him, not even when he brokenly exclaims, “Fuck- oh shit- baby I'm cumming- I'm cumming inside you-” and he's spilling his seed before he is able to finish his incoherent string of a sentence. You shudder as he paints your inner walls with his cum holding you tightly and pressing you down on his stuttering hips as if terrified that you might move away.

You have no energy to tell him you wouldn't dare. Instead, you let him hug you tightly, his face pressed into your breasts as he emptied himself inside of you.

“Shit!” He hisses when his orgasm subsides and his load begins to leak out of your puffy, used cunt.

“Thank you for helping me, baby,” He whispers sweetly. The traces of the old Jihoon steadily return and your heart clenches in warm adoration.

“That was all you.” You whispered.

#woozi x reader #woozi x y/n #woozi x you #woozi smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen #svt fanfic #svt x reader #svt #svt smut #wonwoo x reader

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tarot-archives · 7 months ago

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been thinking about what if laios didn’t leave the army?

it was difficult for him but where else will he go? he doesn’t want to go back to his cold village. he can’t be with his sister who loves the magic academy. what place will accept someone like him? he’s alienated everywhere and was always an outcast.

after completing his training, he was sent on a rescue mission. some rich girl was taken, so some important guy (a king or whatever) hires a group of soldiers to save her. turns out, she was a princess and of course the impossible mission was defeating a dragon.

cliche right? honestly, from stories like those, laios always cheered for the dragon. he doesn’t care to be a dragon slayer, but here he is now inside the abandoned castle where the dragon kept its most precious jewels. all of the soldiers have died, save for him with his monster knowledge. only this time…

“please no! don’t hurt him!”

…the princess didn’t need saving from the dragon. laios was about to deliver the final blow had the princess not stopped him. after a few minutes of begging and crying the princess explained her situation. she had raised the creature ever since it was smaller. she thought it was a lizard at first until it grew. and it grew. and it grew. even when she released it into the wild, the dragon always returned sooner or later before she shoos away again.

she kept it a secret for so long, but she had to leave her kingdom since she was betrothed to some rich older creepy dude seeking a new wife. in the first night, the princess screamed for help when her ‘husband’ tried to force himself to her. her cry for help was heard by her dragon (who apparently tailed her to the rich guy’s mansion) and killed him on the spot. in panic, upon realizing the soldiers will kill the dragon, she rode its back and flew away.

now here she is, begging in front of laios not to kill her beloved companion. she doesn’t want to go back to the kingdom who sold her to a wealthy man. it might happen again. she held laios’ hand, pleading to think of some kind of plan to save her without killing him. the princess doesn’t want any more bloodshed.

this wasn’t a fairytale. the princess needed to be saved from the people. the dragon was the one protecting her. and laios wasn’t some prince or holy knight to slay something he wanted to know more about.

laios had nowhere to go. and for the first time in a long while, he had wanted something for himself— he wanted to live with a dragon too. he was envious of the princess who supposedly ‘tamed’ a ferocious creature. how did she did it? can he do it too? where can he find a dragon egg? ah, had this dragon been female she might lay an egg or give birth and he’ll raise it as his own and be some dragon tamer. falin will want to see the dragon too. can he fly on the dragon’s back to the magic academy?

eventually, all three of you managed to escape. the princess was reported to be dead and so was laios who had left his armor to be burnt.

request? open

#laios touden x reader #laios x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #yey! i see more laios fics :))

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the-broken-truth · 1 month ago

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Twisted Wonderland: Your Boyfriend Finding Out You Have A Cult [Overblot Boys] [Riddle & Leona]

Summary: Your Boyfriend discovers a secret cult dedicated to you; completely worshipping you as Night Raven's Beast Tamer/Magicless Prefect and his relationship with you. How would he react?

Note: The Prefect is Gender-Neutral

Broken: I don't think I wrote for something like this yet, but I did read a few like it and hope I can do it right. Let me know what you guys think.

|RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS|

After Riddle's Overblot Episode, he found himself desiring to be closer to the Ramshackle Prefect; seeing them was the reason he could calm his raging soul & place down the crown as a tyrant.

That friendship soon turned into admiration and longing for a romantic partner, thus he took the first step in asking permission to court them; his affections were accepted and the Ramshackle Prefect became his lover.

That's when he noticed things were changing around him.

Riddle noticed that members of his dorm started doing things without him having to say anything, they were on top of everything in Heartslabyul to maintain its upkeep and image in the eyes of the school. Other Dorm Members would also give him a respectful mood or a firm yet kind greeting. He would even notice that people would bow their heads in respect when he was in the company of his lover.

This confused him and he wanted to find out; it would be one week later to when he was able to find his answer.

After class, Riddle and the Prefect were making plans for their next study session when his lover noticed the custom pen that Riddle had made for them with the Heartslabyul Crest was missing and thought they could have dropped it while on the way to class. Riddle offered to go and find it.

Upon retracing the steps they took to class, Riddle happened upon a curious sight that resulted in him ducking back around the corner and peering around it for further investigation.

In the hall, A Heartslabyul Student was kneeling beside the Prefect's Pen, pulled out a napkin, picked the pen up through the napkin, and dropped it in a small sandwich bag before sealing it and placing it back in their satchel and going about his business. Riddle made a mental note to remember that student's face.

Back at Heartslabyul, he happened upon the same student on the phone, announcing he had collected a 'Fragment' and would bring it to the meeting tonight. Riddle didn't know what he was talking about, but if it involved his lover's pen then it involved his lover, and anything that involved his lover involved HIM.

As the shadows blanked at the land, Riddle followed the Heartslabyul Student to a rundown building on the campus grounds; he peered in through the window and saw everyone wearing grey robes with blue masks - the colors of the Prefect's Partner, Grim.

Riddle managed to swipe a set of robes and a mask that fit him and snuck in - what he found was shocking.

There was a portrait of the Prefect on the wall with a massive table of some of the things the Prefect had complained about losing on previous days. The Leader - wearing a mask more cat-like that exposed his mouth - held up the pen in the bag.

"One of our members has collected a fragment of the Prefect - The Kind Prefect's Favorite Pen that was gifted to them by their chosen lover, Housewarden Riddle Rosehearts!" The Leader's words caused everyone to start cheering before the leader raised his hand to silence them.

The Leader pressed a button on a remote, starting a presentation of pictures that were taken without the Prefect's Knowledge; he was in some of them.

"Ever since the Queen of Heartslabyul asked the Prefect to be his King of Hearts, Heartslabyul has been in great peace and the Housewarden smiles more." The Leader said.

"The Queen is happier!" One of them said.

"Long Live The King & Queen of Hearts!"

What the 3rd person said caused Riddle to blush.

"When will Our Queen of Hearts join our ranks?!"

"Patience! Our Queen of Hearts has his time packed with everything, but if we continue to aid him, he shall be able to join us and share with us his wisdom and stories with the Prefect."

"For the Glory of the Prefect!" Everyone chanted.

"The Feast will begin soon. Be mindful and what is our Queen's Rule?"

"No Hamburgers on a Tuesday." Everyone said in unison.

At that moment, Riddle managed to sneak out and returned to Heartslabyul without being seen, thinking about what to do with what he had just seen: His lover had a literal cult. He could report them...but he didn't think he was going to do such a thing, now when peace and order were finally in Night Raven.

All he had to do was wait until they approached him to hear his wisdom and stories.

|LEONA KINGSCHOLAR|

Leona claimed the Ramshackle Prefect as his mate a week after his Overblot during one of their sparring sessions that got too intense; the two combatants relied on animalistic instincts to overpower the other. Anyone could have seen it - The Prefect had a beast soul and the power the back it up.

It was that same soul and power that caused Leona to claim the Prefect as his own when he managed to get behind them and sink his fangs into the back of their neck; marking them for all to see.

After the fight, the members of Savanaclaw kneeled to Leona and the Prefect; Savanaclaw became something of a kingdom for the two of them.

Leona would watch his Herbivore from his place of relaxation. None of his dorm members would go against their orders, but the Prefect started doing more around the dorm; such as cooking massive meals for after practice, dinner, or whenever the dorm members were complaining about wanting something to sink their teeth into.

Just like a Lion Pride, Leona got his serving first and the Prefect preferred to eat last after everyone had their fill; as powerful as they were, they were still kind to their pride. Someone Leona could see as a life partner.

However, the admiration and power of command did not remain solely in Savanaclaw. His and the Prefect's Influence soon started to spread throughout Night Raven.

During Gym Class, Leona noticed how Coach Vargas would give commands to the students and everyone fell in line, not questioning the Prefect's Roar or bore 'fangs'. There would be more fight pits and the Prefect would destroy everyone before them before roaring out their weaknesses and demanding them to work on them; no one challenged the Prefect's words. Just bowed their heads and listened.

Through those fight classes, other students in other dorms (even Pomefiore) started taking their strengths seriously. They would even bow their heads to Leona and his mate; causing the second prince to smirk. Night Raven was slowly becoming his Kingdom.

One day, Leona was heading back to Savanaclaw when he noticed two Savanaclaw Members talking to a Heartslabyul, he stopped before he was seen and listened.

"Did you get them?"

"Yeah. I had to make sure no one saw me securing the Prefect's Glove."

Leona remembered that earlier in the day his mate threw away some fingerless gloves that they used during Fight Pits but they tore during the last fight and they were tossed.

"Did you wear gloves before you touched them?"

"I... Coach Vargas was coming back and I didn't have time. I just grabbed them."

"With your bare hands?! Are you out of your damn mind?! You've tainted the Prefect's Remnant with your touch!"

"Calm down. The Herbivore was trying to prove himself to join our ranks. The Prefect is forgiving and we should give this offense since he did perform the job."

"Grrr... Fine, but I'm telling the leader about this. We don't want careless runts to taint the Prefect's Relics."

"Agreed."

Leona watched as the Heartslabyul Student handed over a plastic bag with the Prefect's Torn Gloves to the Savanaclaw Members before he was dismissed. One of them pulled out his phone and called someone: "We've secured the Prefect's Gloves. Prepare the display case."

A Display Case? Leona was going to find out what was going on.

That night, the full moon shined over the darkness of the forest and Leona stalked his Savanaclaw Dorm Members from the shadows, both of them dressed in their robes and wearing their masks, as they went to the secret meeting place. Leona found some robes and a mask, put them on, on joined the crowd in the building.

There were at least 50 people, most of them Beastmen from the ears through the robe's holes but Leona's Eyes were focused on the stage: Where a throne and a crown sat in the middle.

The Members were watching clips of the Prefect's Fights, admiring the strength of a Magicless Human called from another world by the Dark Mirror.

The Leader, dressed in a different kind of mask, stood by the Throne gesturing to the display that held his mate's torn gloves.

"The Prefect...robbed from their rightful place in Savanaclaw due to their origin...is one of the true examples of strength." He gestured to the throne and crown, "The other being the one who can match them, Our One True King: Housewarden Kingscholar!"

"Long Live The King! Long Live The Prefect!" The crowd chanted

"So far, more herbivores are attempting to gain favor by collecting Relics of the Prefect."

"They keep messing up! One of them TOUCHED the Prefect's Gloves! WITH HIS BARE HANDS!"

The others in the crowd roared and demanded the Heartslabyul Student be punished.

"Silence! I cannot dish out such punishment! Only our king, The Prefect's Mate, has that right, but he is not with us right now. We must find the proper way to invite him to claim his throne & lead us."

"No need." Leona's voice caused everyone to move away from him as he pulled down his hood and removed the mask, "Your King is here."

Everyone moved away, giving Leona the proper space as Leona walked to the same, listening to the whispers of the crowd as they bowed their heads upon his passing; his ego growing just as his smirk did.

"King Leona is here?!"

"Did the Leader know?"

"Did we prepare enough food for the King's Arrival?! I'll be so upset if we don't have enough!"

Soon, Leona reached the stage and the Leader bowed his head.

"M...My King! I didn't know that you would find out about us so quickly!"

"Don't worry about that." Leona gestured to the throne. The Leader grabbed the crown, and waited for Leona to sit on the throne, before placing the crown upon Leona's Head (The Crown was real - one of the members was a Scarabia Student who asked Kalim for a crown). "Now... Who had the nerve to disrespect My Herbivore's Relics?"

Leona listened to the members, like a king listening to his court, all of them asking for his council and advice in regards to everything regarding the Prefect and anything else they needed his advice on.

Leona was going to live in this moment.

Leona was cherished here.

Leona was KING here.

All thanks to the love of his Herbivore.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts #twst prefect #heartslabyul #savanaclaw

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