#dom! Daveed

[guiltyasdave]

Jana

🌾 - #7 : look at me

These prompts got me having some thots 🥵😂. Ilysm congrats again bb.

look at me

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~0.3k

summary: “you’re gonna be good and clean up after yourself, hm?”

warnings/tags: explicit smut (18+ only!), dom!Dave, sub!reader, able-bodied reader, spit kink, degradation kink, dirty talk, how much filth can i put into 300 words or less really

a/n: thank you for this prompt pam, ily! <3 the thots were strong with this one, what can i say. i’d love to turn this into a longer fic eventually, but the brain said, not today 😌

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs if you want to be notified for fic updates 🫶🏻

“Look at me.”

Dave crouches down in front of you, his eyes boring into yours as you lift your head, tears staining your vision.

“Made a mess, did you?” he murmurs, his fingers grazing your face affectionately, but the dark glint in his gaze doesn’t escape you. He tilts your head down to look at the puddle of spit that had dribbled out of your mouth.

“Dirty girl.”

He pulls his hand back and slaps your cheek, the sting making you whine.

“You’re gonna be good and clean up after yourself, hm?”

You feel yourself nodding before your brain has even caught up to his words, your thoughts hazy and consumed by the need to please him, to make him proud.

“Go on then,” he tells you, his voice almost gentle as he pats your cheek once more.

Heat of humiliation burns on your face, but you can’t deny the new wave of arousal that burns through you as well as you slowly bend down, stealing another glance up at his carefully composed face and his dark eyes before you lick at the floor gingerly, trying to collect the cooled down fluid with your tongue and another whine climbs up your throat.

He pulls you back abruptly, making you bend your neck until you look up at him again.

“I said, clean up,” he snarls. “Maybe you need more motivation.”

He spits down onto the ground, adding to the remnants of your saliva, then shoves your head back down. You flatten your tongue against the ground, trying to lick up as much as possible, and hear him chuckle above you.

“Good girl, that’s better. So desperate for everything I give you, you’d even lick it off the floor. Fucking filthy.”

thank you for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment, it means the world to me and really keeps me going <3

[thegreatestloverofall]

sub!Kurt Cobain Headcannons!

WARNINGS: NSFW. if you are a minor or are not comfortable with this topic DNI

any disrespectful comments to me or my followers/readers will be BLOCKED!

No proofread!

requested? yes, by anon💫

Sub!kurt loves making love to you when your high from weed or heroin. He'll offer some to you because he knows that you turn into a Dom when you're high on weed/heroin

Sub!kurt will whine and whine and whine. You'd have to cover his mouth up to prevent him from waking up krist or dave.

*whines*

"shh we don't want krist and dave finding out that your a slut for me right?"

Sub!kurt LOVES getting degraded by you. he gets turned on as soon as you call him your little play thing or his little slut

"i can't believe you already came and I didn't even touch you, you little slut"

"I-Im sorry I can't help myself when I'm around you.."

Sub!kurt has a HUGE mommy+breeding kink. ARGUE.WITH.A.WALL-

"can I please come inside you momm-"

"wait what did you just call me-"

Sub!kurt will be clingy ASF after. he'll pamper you with kisses and expects you to do the same

Sub!kurt LOVES after care. he loves when you ask him if he's feeling ok and he always wants you to feel ok as well

"hey sweetheart you ok?"

"blud didnt i just make you come like 5 time-"

comment "taglist" if you wanna be on the taglist!

Yours truly, R.A.Y.Č.E.K☆🍓𖦹🍒𖦹☆

taglist:@bazooka-cazooka (lets go one person🗣)

[pokey-is-here-now]

(f)art dump

[bearsbeetsbeskar]

Who is your favorite Pedro character?

This is just a general poll cause I am curious and I wanna know everyone else's preferences!! I am a Din gal through and through, there is nothing I do not love about that bucket head bitch and his green son, but Frankie Morales and Joel Miller are a close second (thanks to the beautiful fic that is out there for them)

[blackypanther9]

My Bunny – Sub!Glitchtrap x Dom!Male!Reader

WARNING!: Rape, Sexual teasing, Cocky Glitchtrap gets what he deserved, Anal Sex, Creampie, Mating season for rabbit William, breeding kink, perverted reader, degradation, multiple orgasms, impregnation, birthing, Master & Slave kink AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Summary: Glitchtrap (William Afton) trapped M/n in the VR game with himself. M/n played the game and Glitch made M/n feel uncomfortable a lot and said sexual things to tease M/n. But…that day Glitch got what he deserved and neither he nor M/n regretted it in the end.

A/N: I know some of the stuff doesn't work that way, BUT, it is a FANFIC which means use some damn FANTASY. Not everything has to make sense. Now enjoy !

M/n was in the FNaF 1 location and the clock just hit 6AM, but the game didn’t let him out of the map. He came way too late to realize that this VR Game sucked him in.

You are actually with your whole body in the Game.

Suddenly the TV screen glitched and something tried to come out there. Keyword…TRIED. They were stuck and out looked just the ass with a cotton tail and a cock. They struggled around and tried to get out, without success. M/n chuckled.

“Aww~ Are you stuck, little bunny~?”, M/n teased.

He knew who it was. It was that annoying rabbit that was always in the main room where you select your next level. He just stalks you and tries to make a conversation.

“Am not stuck !”, the rabbit yelled and wiggled again.

M/n laughed and then had a devious plan. He very quietly unzipped his pants and pulled down his boxers. He didn’t fuck anyone in a long time and this annoying rabbit finally gets a taste of his own medicine. Being stared at is creepy and him making sexual teasing wasn’t nice either.

“Let me help you out then.”, M/n said casually, but had a big smirk on his face.

The rabbit stopped wiggling, waiting for M/n’s help. Suddenly the rabbit yelped in shock and pain.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING ?!”, he yelled.

M/n shoved his head from his cock inside the rabbit’s very alluring, sexy asshole. He smirked darkly.

“What~? Did you think help is for free~?”, he asked chuckling.

“Get out of me !”

“Nah. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity~ I ain’t gonna pass that, little rabbit~”

The bunny tried to get away, but he couldn’t he was totally stuck in that damned TV ! And M/n also held him in place !

“Open wide for me, little bunny~ I ain’t the smallest~”, M/n teased.

M/n pushed deeper inside the rabbit’s ass and started to moan. The rabbit couldn’t deny that even though he hated the whole situation, a twisted, dark part of him wanted this.

“Fuck you are so tight, little bunny~ Did you ever had anyone in there and destroy you~?”

He didn’t reply. M/n chuckled. He pushed inside deeper and hit a soft, spongy spot.

“AH~!”, the rabbit moaned.

“Oooooohhh~? I hit your little G – spot, didn’t I~?”

“N-No ! AH~!”

Just to point out that the bunny was lying, he hit that spot again, making him moan loudly again.

“Why deny it, bunny~? Your body seems to love and need it~ I bet you are in mating season~ You smell alluring today~”

When William got into this Game, he didn’t think that he would get real rabbit traits. One of them was mating season and M/n was right…he was in mating season. Shit.

M/n pulled out and pushed back inside, hitting the rabbit’s prostate again and again, making the trapped guy moan loudly.

“You enjoying my fat cock and balls, hmm~?”

M/n wasn’t small. He was very long and thick. It was a wonder he even fit inside that rabbit’s tight ass. Not all of his length fit inside, but because of his thickness it was a surprise he even fit.

M/n went faster in the rabbit’s ass, hitting his prostate with more force and faster than before.

“Ah~! MNGH~! HAH~! HA~!”, the rabbit moaned.

M/n groaned from time to time, fucking the shape of his cock into the rabbit’s ass.

“P-PLEASE~! AH~! PLEASE STOP~!”

“Your ass tells me to continue and breed it~”

“NO~! AH~! HAH~! PLEASE DON’T~! I’LL LET YOU OUT OF THE GAME !”

“Nah~ This is way better than sitting at home and doing nothing~”

With that M/n gave his best and started to slam inside the rabbit and hit aggressively his prostate.

“AH~! HAH~! HNNGH~! PLEASE WAIT~! I CAN OFFER YOU MORE ! YOU WANT MONEY ?! I-I CAN GET IT ! NNGH~! AH~!”

“Nope~ All I want is right here, on my big, fat cock~ I’ll claim you as mine, mark you as mine and make you mine~ You naughty little bunny asked for it~”

M/n continued and ignored the rabbit’s pleas.

“Mmnnn~ I’m gonna cum~ Your Master is about to cum, bunny~ Make sure to take it all~ I’ll fill you up so well, you’ll crave for that feeling again~”, M/n purred.

His cock pulsated happily, signaling that it wants to claim territory. Even though the rabbit was in denial, his hole and walls twitched with excitement and begged to be claimed territory.

He felt M/n’s cock twitching harsher and panicked.

“NO ! PLEASE ! I CAN-AAAAAAHHHHHH~~!!!”, the bunny moaned as loud as never before.

“Ahhhh~ Take it all little bunny~ Take all my fucking cum~”, M/n purred, shoving himself inside as deep as possible and filling the rabbit’s ass.

“Aaaaahhhh~ Haaah~ Mmmnngh~”, the rabbit moaned, taking it all.

His body tried to get even closer to get more inside. M/n chuckled and found it adorable. His body screamed yes and was urging him on, yet the rabbit tried to deny himself this. And he may not have came, nor was hard, but his ass spoke volumes.

Just means that in mating season, this little rabbit, is a sub and doesn’t get hard. So he doesn’t dominate, but wants to be dominated.

M/n pulled out of the rabbit’s breed able ass and sat down in his office chair, huffing a few breaths.

“Fuck~ That felt good~”, M/n purred.

He looked at the ass he fucked and chuckled. The tail was down now and out of the bunny’s ass dripped his cum. The rabbit panted too and whimpered.

After a while M/n got back up, grabbed the rabbit’s ass and pulled with all his might and…

SLAM !

Out he was and leaning with his back against M/n’s chest. His ears were down and he panted a bit louder than before.

Then they got back to the main menu, sitting on the checkered floor. M/n picked the rabbit up and put him on a table, leaving him laying there.

He still panted and smelled breed able. M/n got hard quickly again, but refused to act. Then the rabbit whimpered submissively. And that undid M/n.

He made him bend over the table. All the rabbit did was whine submissively. M/n lined his cock back up with his ass and slammed back inside.

“AH~!”

M/n slammed in and out of him, pressing the bunny’s chest down flat on the table and continued to fuck him roughly.

“AAH~!! HAAH~!! MORE~!! PLEASE MORE~!!”

Who was M/n to deny him ?

“You little cum dumpster want my load again~?”

“YES~!! PLEASE~!!”

“A second ago you begged me not to~”

“I’M SORRY~! PLEASE FILL ME UP~!! BREED MEE~!”

M/n was close, soon shoved in deeply again and growled as he came deep inside the rabbit.

“AAAHHH~!!! Ahhh~! Haaah~ Nnngh~”

M/n’s cock pumped happily away and the rabbits greedy ass happily took it all.

“You better know how to summon and use a butt plug. If you lose one drop again I might do something about it~ And I hope you know that in mating season, you can also get pregnant in the ass.”

The bunny just moaned and summoned a big butt plug and handed it to M/n. He took it, then pulled out his soft cock and replaced it with the plug.

“NAAAGH~! HAH~! Ahhh~”

Then the rabbit sacked together and was passed out.

“Silly rabbit…”

-Time skip-

Glitchtrap aka. William woke up with a very hungry ass. He wanted more cum. He got up and looked around for M/n. He found him in the FNaF 2 games sitting on a chair by a table and masturbating. He halted the game and got in. As M/n saw him he stopped masturbating and shoved his chair away.

“Pull it out and sit down.”, M/n commanded.

The rabbit listened instantly and hurried to sit down. He faced M/n while he speared his ass on M/n’s cock. The rabbit whimpered in submission and M/n took his hips in his hands and then made him bounce up and down.

“Ah~! AH~! HAH~!”

M/n made him go faster and rougher, hitting his prostate harder and quicker. He was at his peak in a few minutes. M/n pressed the rabbit all the way down, fitting in all of his cock.

“MAAAAAHHHH~!!! AAAHHH~!!! HAAAH~!!”

M/n released all of his seed inside the rabbit, groaning. William lost his strength to sit straight and fell with his face against M/n’s chest. He panted way harsher than M/n.

When M/n finished he pulled out and stuffed the plug back inside.

-3 months later-

He was fucking pregnant… M/n made William pregnant and as it seemed it had to be at least three children he fucked into him. M/n was pretty happy about it, but with that stomach the rabbit was already showing, he was even more horny.

Like now. He had him bent over on all fours, hearts in the rabbit’s eyes and roughly slammed into his prostate.

“AH~! HA~! AH~! MMMMNNNGH~!”

“So round already~ Carrying all my children~ Oh bunny, that is fucking adorable and hot~ I did this~ I created this~ All MINE~ Now you truly belong to only me~”

“UGH~! HA~! AH~”

“What are you, hmm~?”

“YOUR~AH~! I’M YOUR BREED ABLE BUNNY~! I’M YOUR OFFSPRING MACHINE~! AH~! HAH~!”

“Good little slave~ Now cum for me~”

And on command the rabbit came, screaming in pleasure and his ass opened widely like a cunt, accepting its mate’s sperm.

“Good little rabbit~ As soon as you gave birth, I’ll fill you again with offspring, because that is all you are~ My child making object~”

William moaned whorishly at that. He wouldn’t want it any other way.

-2 weeks later- (BIRTH !!!)

William was laying in a bathtub and almost destroying M/n’s hand in agony. His water broke and now the children were coming. He was already ready to give birth and he screamed and squeezed M/n’s hand with all his might as he started pushing.

M/n got hard when he saw that the kids came out of the very hole he impregnated. Fuck now he wants to fuck his rabbit too. It had to wait until he could masturbate. Guess he had a birth kink…

As soon as the first one was out, the other two came out easily. William passed out after that and M/n took care of the babies. One of them had M/n’s hair and skin tone, but the tail and ears from his mate. The other had black hair and some purple in it and a pale skin tone. And the other had pale skin, M/n’s hair color with purple and the ears and tail from his rabbit. The first one was a girl the other two were boys. (END OF BIRTH)

After M/n took care of them, he brought his mate to bed.

William woke up and got up. He spotted M/n with the three kids on the sofa, sleeping. His nipples leaked milk and he scoffed softly. He went over and saw their eldest fuzzing around. He picked her up and led her head to one of his nipples. She instantly leeched onto it and sucked milk from him.

‘Fuck this feels so weird…’

Then the third born fuzzed around and he took him and let him leech onto his other nipple, he instantly was awake and sucked the milk. They were precious to him and M/n.

-3 months later-

M/n summoned his mate again through the TV they fucked the first time. His ass appeared and he wiggled it around, his tail excitedly swaying from side to side. M/n chuckled.

Yes, he was again in mating season and M/n promised to give him another load of children when he gets into heat. He opened his ass cheeks widely, licked his lips and then shoved his cock all the way inside his mate’s ass again, fucking him roughly and quickly.

You could hear his mate moaning whorishly at the rough treatment, but M/n didn’t expect anything else.

“You like my cock, hmm~?”

“YES~!”

“You want my cum deep inside you~?”

“YEEESSS~!”

“You want to carry another set of my babies~?”

“OH YES PLEASE~! MASTER~!”

M/n slammed against his mate’s prostate again and shoved himself all the way in, making his mate scream in bliss. His ass pulsated happily and welcoming in all the sperm it will get, while M/n’s cock was happy to provide and pulsated wildly.

“You will take every fucking drop of my cum and will not let it escape your ass.”

“I WON’T SIR~! AH~! HAAAAAAAAAAHHHH~!!!”

With that M/n came rope after rope inside his mate, filling his hungry man cunt. His mate twitched, but let it all flow in with hearts in his eyes.

After M/n was finished, he pulled out and plugged his hole shut, making him keep his cum in there and let it do its magic.

William’s tail dropped and covered the plug from sight, feeling too happy and content to not feel boneless. After that he came out of the screen and snuggled up with M/n.

“I love you, Master~”, the rabbit said.

“I love you too, slave~”

His mate snuggled deeper into him, smiling brightly.

Masterlist HERE !

[ohsweetiep1e]

HOUSE RULES

requests are currently open 🎀

16+ nsfw blog !!

Rules

I write for pretty far out things but don’t be weird

I ONLY WRITE READER AS A TOP

Only x Reader

Any gender

Mostly smut unless i have a really good fluff prompt

other then that my blog is pretty free game just the obvious don’ts

WHO I WRITE FOR

Almost every Rory Culkin character

James Hetfield

Kirk Hammet

Lars Ulrich

Dave Mustaine

Nikki Sixx

Tate Langdon

Micheal Afton

Mattheo Riddle

Enzo Berkshire

Coriolanus Snow

Theo Nott

Spencer Reid

Tom Keifer

j.d ( heathers )

John Deacon

Roger Taylor

Jareth from the labrynth

- this list is subject to change -

[jasvvy]

GCW ROLE MODEL, MARCH 23RD, 2024 // THE REJECTS VS VIOLENCE IS FOREVER

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have Robin Hood: Men in Tights 1993

[fag-stuck]

karkat undoubtedly always tops dave

[starsnores]

Garuntee dave is into voyeurism and when karkat has gamzee come over for a pale (pail) session. The two head into another room, leaving dave alone on the couch and he can hear them through the walls. He hates it but he can't help jerking it to the sound of them

yesss, it's more fun if dave gets off to it, too. does he feel used? is he humiliated? yes. unfortunately he's sort of into that. Karkat doesn't know dave knows, but gamzee does, and gamzee likes being a mean weird asshole in dave's direction. really lords it over him.

[rainingmusic]

Black Moth - 'Blackbirds Fall' 

[thefadomedits]

nothing but thieves wallpaper

[krispyweiss]

Quarter Notes: Blurbs & Briefs from Sound Bites

- In this edition: Oteil & Friends; Jane’s Addiction; Todd Rundgren; & Carolina Chocolate Drops

MELVIN SEALS SITS OUT OTEIL & FRIENDS SHOWS: Keyboardist Melvin Seals sat out the last two Oteil & Friends concerts citing arthritis. Multi-instrumentalist Jason Crosby filled in for the Sept. 12-13 shows; the band is off until Sept. 19.

JANE’S ADDICTION SHOW PACKS PUNCH: Jane’s Addiction’s Sept. 13 show in Boston came to an abrupt end when singer Perry Farrell pushed and threw a punch at guitarist Dave Navarro mid-song. Stay tuned …

TODD RUNDGREN TO GET KEY TO WOODSTOCK: Todd Rundgren will receive a key to Woodstock N.Y., when he plays near the town Oct. 23, the Times Union reports.

Rundgren is an “important contributor to Woodstock’s long and iconic history as a global nexus for all genres of musical creativity,” Town Supervisor Bill McKenna said.

CCD IN 2025?: Carolina Chocolate Drops co-founder Dom Flemons says he’d be up for a reunion with Rhiannon Giddens and Justin Robinson to mark the band’s 20th anniversary in 2025.

“I’m all in,” he wrote on social media.

9/14/24

[gutsby]

Wants and Needs

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Joel x Reader

Summary: Bills are high; your dad’s boss wants to help. How you pay him stays between you and him—for now.

Warnings: 18+. Protected piv. Explicit power imbalance in an exchange of sex for money, so dubcon, technically. Soft dom!Joel. Sex toys. Squirting. Oral (f!receiving). Overstimulation. Daddy kink. Age gap. Praise kink.

Note: Bohanan’s is a steakhouse in San Antonio, TX.

Word count: 8.4k

You wanted a car. Joel needed to cum.

It wasn’t the arrangement a girl your age should’ve made, but what could you do? Your dad drank half of your college funds away, and your mom was long gone.

The next best thing was Mr. Miller, your father’s boss. He’d understood better than anyone what money could buy. What it might do. For him, it was pleasure. For you, it was a future—or what little remained after bills and loans and exorbitantly-priced car repairs bled you dry.

You took the job at the firm on a whim. You didn’t want to be a lawyer anymore, though your dad and Joel were. You didn’t want to be done with law school, though 3L had already long since ended, and that dreaded so-called ‘minimum competency’ test was drawing close on the horizon. In short, you couldn’t afford to pay for bar prep.

With Joel, you could.

It was true that tax law paid pretty well, but a part-time job would never really be enough when your family was treading water at all times. Your dad liked to gamble and drink, and your brothers got all of their brains from him.

You got the short end of the stick, plus the receiving end of another. Lucky for you, Joel’s felt pretty good going in.

Today you were somewhere south of Austin. Your truck wouldn’t start last week, so you’d agreed to come along on this business trip knowing full well what you planned on asking your boss as soon as you had a moment alone.

“CDP hearing at…9:45.” You checked the itinerary twice.

“Alright.” Joel nodded.

“Lunch with Javier, Ezra, and Dave at twelve.”

“Mhmm.”

“Phone call with Revenue Officer Acacius at 3:30.”

“For the…?”

“Martells.”

“Okay.”

“I finished Lucien Flores’ Form 433-F for your review and left notes—” You stopped to tap your finger on a short white pile of papers between you and Joel on the desk, “—in the margins. Still need bank statements from him.”

“Lovely.”

Joel eyed the stack at first, but his gaze strayed a little.

“You should probably plan to talk strategy with my dad before Mayor Garcia’s audit tomorrow, too. Looks like a couple non-cash contributions are being disputed now.”

For a second, your eyes flitted up to him, too. It was brief.

“Sure. When’s your daddy free?” he said.

You blinked, then scanned the schedule.

“Looks like five…or six, maybe. He’s got a consult with—”

“I wasn’t talking about your father.”

You looked back up. Joel was smirking, of course. His hand had drifted a comfortable, innocent distance past the papers and across the table, to you. The pair of you happened to be in one of the glass-paneled conference rooms nearest the hotel lobby, so he had to be discreet.

He never let his fingers stray too long on yours in public. Presently, his thumb grazed your knuckles extra slow.

Posing a question, maybe.

You didn’t have the time to be tactful now, unfortunately.

“I need $2,700.”

Joel, your boss, your daddy, whatever, had to pause at that. He didn’t move his hand immediately, but he did stare harder. Longer. He searched your face for the joke.

“$2,700?” he repeated.

“Yes sir,” you answered out of habit, wincing only a little, “My truck stopped running last week, and it’s just…a lot.”

The cost. For Joel, it wasn’t even a drop in the bucket, but in your world, it was a make-or-break, fuck-your-whole-budget-for-the-next-six-months kind of bad. Suddenly, your cheeks felt warmer than they did before, and you forced yourself to look away. Peering out across the wide and gently rolling terrain of San Antonio and trying to pretend there was something thrilling to see. You’d almost forgotten how much you hated asking this.

“I can make the deposit tonight—” Joel started.

“No,” you interrupted. You wanted to turn but couldn’t. You just shook your head and kept staring out there, “Not now, I mean…I need to earn it over time, I just…”

You stumbled over the words. It was like your lips, your tongue, and your teeth were all suffering from the same sort of embarrassment pervading the brain, and you couldn’t bring your mouth to form the sentences right.

I’m not asking for a handout. I need to earn the money.

However ‘earning’ may have been grossly misconstrued in the context, it was a labor all the same. You didn’t love it, but you didn’t hate him, either. Joel was nice, albeit old enough to be your father, and it didn’t seem that he was nearly as predatory or perverse as he could’ve been. You’d been working for him for two months now, and the idea had been your own when the cash had gotten tight.

Back in April, you’d explained to him, calmly, that you couldn’t take the bar exam unless you got some extra money quick. That you wouldn’t accept his charity, but you’d pay him back in other ways. Joel had been against it at first—you were the daughter of his best friend, after all—but eventually, his carnal needs won out over his sense, as every other man would’ve done, you guessed.

At first, you’d started slow, but that hadn’t lasted very long. You fucked him regularly now, though never had you asked for an amount of cash this big out of nowhere.

Joel blinked and put a hand on his hip, like he always did when he wasn’t sure what to say. The silver in his soft, dark locks shone more in this light. He’d lost the smirk.

“You’ve done…plenty.” Now sounding sheepish.

You tried to protest again; Joel stopped you.

“I mean it. Hey, look at me,” he said next.

You did, hesitatingly. You turned from the window, and out of instinct, folded your arms over your chest. Joel paced closer to you and then he was watching. Pausing.

Brushing your arm with his and glancing once over your shoulder to make sure no one else was around to see.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your temple.

When he pulled away, your skin was practically ablaze.

“Mr. Miller—”

“Joel,” he corrected, quiet, “And you’ve done enough. Let me cover the car just this once, okay? Sweetheart?”

You didn’t realize you were pivoting again. That your gut was doing somersaults and your heart was ready to climb up and out of your throat. Your neck was burning.

It wasn’t even anger you sensed was simmering under the skin until you turned back to him, and your eyes flashed with ire before the words were even spoken.

“I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller. I said I want to pay.”

“It’s Joel. And I said you’ve done enough, so—”

Ire morphed to something more in a blink.

You didn’t mean to say it, but you did.

“Fine,” you huffed, suddenly exasperated, “If you’re so fucking opposed to me paying my way for this one simple thing, I’ll get another guy. Forget I asked.”

It was a low blow, for sure. Joel knew how badly you’d wanted this to stay between just you and him—and he would never dream of seeing you ‘earning your keep’ with anyone else. His expression said as much as soon as he’d heard your words; his whole face hardened at once.

But then you’d turned to leave. You didn’t care what he wanted to tell you, and if you did, you certainly weren’t brave enough to stick around to hear Joel say it then.

So you left. He had a full, busy day ahead of him anyway.

You woke up wet.

In an effort to avoid your boss, you’d run errands all day. Buried your nose in a sea of Civil Procedure notes as soon as you got a second alone, almost vomited seeing the Erie Doctrine, and went back to your hotel room to try and study there. Once you had, you napped instead.

Now your clothes stuck to your skin; the sheets around you were soaked. You peered over the big white duvet holding your body interred and saw smoke overhead.

Or steam.

Yes, definitely steam. It was drifting from the bathroom, where the door was thrown open. You shifted up to sit.

“Tess!” you yelled, “Shut the goddamn door, I’m boiling.”

As a law clerk, you weren’t afforded the luxury of a suite to yourself, so you shared it with the other new grads on work trips like these. Tess Servopoulos loved long, hot showers and never closed the fucking door. You groaned.

And, feeling depleted of all energy from your studies and the stress and the steam searing every inch of your skin, you flopped back in the bed. You kicked the covers off your legs. You’d just lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from your forehead, when an awful, fresh realization dawned.

You glanced at the clock—3:37.

“Fucking hell,” you hissed.

You were supposed to meet your dad at two to get some paperwork signed. You needed to have that filed with the court by four. He was probably engaged somewhere else by now, whether it be a client, a conference, or a couple white lines in the bathroom of a partners-only club downtown, and you wouldn’t have a hope of reaching him here. You rubbed your face and groaned again.

You’d set an alarm for 1:30—you knew you had.

Where the hell was your phone? Why was it so warm? What if he’d called? Aw fuck, he’s probably blown that thing up to hell and back by now. Maybe he was drunk. He had to be. Where was Tess? Where were your pants?

You’d made it up to your feet, clumsily, and faced a full-length mirror. Your bottoms were gone. You closed your eyes and screamed inside, remembering why they were.

“Glad you’re getting some use out of this.”

The second you heard it, your lids flew open. You turned.

And, standing in the warm yellow glow of the bathroom light—holding the culprit, your vibrator, like a prize—was Joel. Naked as the day he was born, save for one thin towel around his hips, and grinning. Moisture glistened on his chest and pooled about his feet, and his hair was smooth, tamed, and combed back neatly from his face.

He waved your silicone toy in the air, and immediately, you regretted giving him your room key the other day.

“I thought we agreed you’d wait for me—”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Your voice was thick with sleep. Joel’s own was slow, dulcet, and kind as it always was, even when teasing. When you grit your teeth, he just set the toy aside.

“I’m sorry. Bad timing. I saw your—”

“No.” You threw up both hands at once, suddenly out of breath and fucks to give, “You know what? I don’t care. You need to go. I have to be down at the courthouse—”

In twenty minutes. You cut yourself short and hurried off to find shoes. You could wear other pants. Ask another attorney to sign the forms if you couldn’t reach your dad. Forget that his boss and yours had just caught you with the vibrator he’d bought you last month and try not to feel too humiliated knowing he knew what you’d been doing. It didn’t matter—Joel didn’t matter. You slid on a mismatched pair of slacks and set off toward the door.

Then you had to stop. Joel beat you there, quick as ever.

“Listen. Hey.”

“Will you stop?!”

You pushed at his big and wet, stupidly broad chest. You felt the small grey hairs on his pecs tickle your palms, and for a second, you thought you heard a chuckle.

“You’re gonna make me late—”

“Hey, hey,” Joel said again. Of course it sounded fatherly, “I already signed the POA for Morales, hon, you’re good.”

You’re good.

“You what?” You stared at him in disbelief. How did he even know you needed Frankie’s power of attorney signed in the first place? You figured your dad would’ve mentioned it, but still, it wasn’t really Joel’s form to sign.

“The case is mine now,” he clarified, reading that look, “Wasn’t my first pick, but it is what it is. And your dad—”

Your dad was probably lagging wildly behind on his own caseload, so he’d pushed one off on his friend. Again.

“You can’t keep picking up his slack,” you gritted out, “One of these days it’s gonna bite you both in the ass. You know he shouldn’t be forcing these jobs on you.”

“I offered.”

“You caved.”

“He’s my best friend, what do you expect me to do?”

“Not let him use you! He’s making you feel bad for him.”

“And what if I did? What if I did pity the bastard?”

You scoffed. Then winced, inwardly.

I don’t need your pity, Mr. Miller.

From the look on Joel’s face, he seemed to be remembering the same. He shook his head.

“That’s not…” he trailed off. He rubbed his jaw with his hand and started to move from the door, deflating some.

His other arm extended to you, wordlessly, and already anticipated what was sure to follow. You swatted him off, then walked to the bed. You considered sitting but didn’t. Instead, you crossed your arms like you always did and turned away, facing the window with a cool, flat affect.

By now, Joel knew better than to take that for what it seemed. He crossed the room to you, treading softly.

His voice turned gentle again, like an apology: “Honey…”

But your gaze was already fixed outside. You frowned.

“Darlin’,” Joel continued, undeterred, “Come on.”

And you didn’t need to see his face to hear the rest: ��Look at me, please,’ with eyes all comfort and warmth.

“Don’t you have a phone call with an R.O. or something?” Briefly, you recalled Acacius and a stream of other items from the checklist you’d covered that morning, and you had to stop yourself then from straying too far. You blinked once, just as Joel was approaching from behind.

“I cancelled,” he said.

You sighed, “Mr. Miller…”

You knew he hated doing that.

“Joel,” he pressed. Adding, “Something came up.”

You wouldn’t even ask. You shouldn’t care. You felt him standing there, fanning hot breaths across the nape of your neck, and you really couldn’t have taken that worse. You visibly tensed, hands balling into fists at your sides, and—hell, he wouldn’t quit moving now, would he?—Joel bent down. He hesitated, as if gauging your reaction in time, then descended further. He kissed your shoulder.

You cracked; it never took much from him.

For all your inane, ancillary plays at feigning indifference, one movement of Joel’s mouth and your resolve was lost. You clung to words, weakly, but all the rest fell away.

“We don’t…want your charity. Me or my dad. Alright?”

“I know.”

Joel kissed your skin again, then pulled at the strap of your blouse. It fell limply away, and his lips reattached.

Exactly when he’d walked you back to the bed, you couldn’t be sure. By the third or fourth kiss, your stomach was tight, knees weak, and your eyes drawing closed; it didn’t matter to you or to him what had passed before. Your bodies found the bed and blended together.

Tangling, in a way. Tearing blindly at clothes and not saying too much apart from Joel’s soft, sweet words:

“That’s it.”

“I know.”

“Good girl.”

Good girl when he kissed you. Good girl when he stripped you bare. Good girl when his hands roamed the broad, naked expanse of your body and let your own do the same to him. Good girl when your fingers hooked the outline of the towel and tugged it away, your vision filled with a sight you’d come to like more and more each day.

“That’s my girl,” Joel murmured. He cradled your head while you gripped his base, “‘S’yours, baby. All yours.”

Yours. Mine. You weren’t sure you had the sense or self-possession to even know what that meant, especially here. Joel wasn’t a boyfriend. He wasn’t a lover, at least not in the traditional sense. He wore dark wool suits like your father and worked from dawn until dusk every day, practicing law for longer than you’d been alive. Still, the smile above you was sweet. It coaxed you gently as you slid your hand up and down his length, like he sensed this was more like a lesson for you. Learning experience.

“Remember, spit a little first,” he instructed. Then, to demonstrate this point, he brought his fingers to his mouth and wet them quickly. He slipped his touch down to yours and met your gaze while he joined you there.

He rubbed and slicked himself up and he did it with ease. You followed his lead and watched his face contort—crow’s feet pinching even tighter at the sides of his eyes as pleasure began to pool in his gut. He looked pretty. You’d never thought to tell him this, but Joel really had an unparalleled face. It was an old and beautiful thing. For this reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to tear your gaze away, maybe to wet your own fingers. Instead, you slipped your hand between your legs, where his hips had come to rest. You worked a slow, light touch against your folds; you were drenched, and it didn’t take long for your fingers to be, too. You moved them back to Joel’s cock.

“Like this?” you ventured.

The man answered with a grunt, at first. Then a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah,” Joel nodded, quiet but emphatic. Trying not to smile too big as he let your touch take over for his, “Just like that, sweet pea. Get it nice an’ wet for daddy.”

You wanted to whimper at that. Something must’ve flashed in your eyes at the intonation of the last word, and the look must’ve suffused your whole expression, because the next thing you knew, Joel was lowering his body to yours. Petting your hair, letting you rub on his shaft as fast as your soft, lithe hands could manage.

“Feel that, baby? Feel how much daddy missed you?”

You did.

Your brow pinched, and you wanted more of that. More from him: those tender, edifying words of praise being mumbled your way while your touch worked him over. Maybe you could’ve helped it, but then again, in this state, maybe you couldn’t—you whimpered for him.

Wriggling your hips against the bed to get your warmth pressed flush with his own, and squeezing him tighter:

“In me, daddy. Please.”

You angled his cock in your trembling grip to plead as much. You knew he liked being the one to push in the first time, so you didn’t move too far with that push, but you begged him with your gaze. You felt him tense a bit.

And just when you sensed he might let you have your way, he moved off. Down. Sliding his torso away from your own, to go lower on the bed, and smirking again.

“I think she needs my tongue first, doesn’t she?”

You wanted to nod. Instead, you flinched. You crawled away from his hold before it could secure itself firmly on either one of your legs, and you had to snag your bottom lip between your teeth to contain that blossoming need. It almost spilled from your mouth in a moan before Joel’s could reach your lower half. Then you scrambled to sit up

“No,” you choked out.

This wasn’t new. While you shook your head, Joel lifted a brow and stood from the bed. He reached behind him.

The night stand.

You closed your eyes.

“This isn’t…supposed to be for me.” you sighed.

In a second, Joel was back where he started, and you didn’t have to steal a glance through your lids to know what he was holding. Slotting himself gently into place.

“Don’t,” he started, sharp, “—say that. I mean it.”

You knew he meant it, but you also knew better than to accept at face value what he said, moving down on you.

This wasn’t part of the deal. Joel’s money was meant to serve his pleasure, not yours. Letting him take you any other way seemed to blur the lines between transaction and affection, and though you’d done this before, it still didn’t feel right. You couldn’t bear having his focus here.

Evidently, though, he could. He’d snatched your vibrator from the night table and lowered his torso to your legs, lips twitching the tiniest bit. ‘Open up. Let me see her.’

Joel was on his stomach, eyes glowing with intrigue.

“Let me see how much she’s missed me, baby.”

The grey matter in your brain might’ve trickled through your ears—the whole thing went to mush at his words. You pushed at his hands, then the top of his head, but clearly, your will was weak. You wanted this. Needed it.

“That’s a good girl. Let daddy have it,” Joel drawled.

You wanted to cry. Or maybe hide. His index and middle fingers prodded at your folds, pulling them apart, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn you’d stopped breathing. Joel kissed the slope of your mound with a quiet kind of reverence. The salt-and-pepper stubble on his chin brushed your clit, and your back arched reflexively. Then, remembering why you’d come to this arrangement in the first place, you felt a wave of guilt supplant that pleasure.

You clawed at his head and shook your own, weakly.

“No. W-wanna make you feel good,” you choked out.

Not me.

Not here.

Just let it—

“Fuck,” you keened through your teeth. Joel’s lips made contact with your slick, drooling cunt and, in a second, sucked your nub in between them. He flicked his tongue.

Joel groaned, then pulled away to meet your gaze.

“Feels plenty good f’me,” he assured you in a murmur. Eyes glossy, “She’s so fuckin’ sweet, honey. So pretty.”

Then, as if to punctuate his point, he slid his tongue down the whole wet mess of your slit, and he moaned. He curled the muscle and invaded your sticky, sensitive, precious warm flesh with vigor and force—maybe a little desperation—and you whined at the feeling. Your toes curled tight. It was doubtlessly a sight to see: Joel’s old and weathered head against your young and supple skin, the wiry greys of his chin rubbing your cunt like no man’s his age should’ve been. He took you gently. Forked his fingers over your folds to hold you open for him and then, over and over and over again, just licking stripes. Squelching noises only seemed to goad him on while he buried his nose and savored your taste without reserve. Your stomach clenched with that pleasure, then swelled.

“That’s my girl—so good for me,” Joel said, as though reminding you, gently, it was okay to relish the feeling.

Once more, he suckled your clit in his mouth, rubbing the tip of his tongue in a quick back-and-forth motion, and the next sensation hit without a breath of warning.

Your belly twisted again, then flushed with hot pleasure.

“My— fuck,” you cried, shuddering with a climax you didn’t know was coming. You held his head and whined.

Joel’s tongue didn’t stop. Your vision blurred. Whatever reprieve you might’ve hoped to find came in the form of his lips drawing back, momentarily, only to sponge little kisses on your still-pulsing heat. Your body jolted back.

“I c— I’m done. I’m done,” you blurted out.

Joel nodded against you. Humming through his kisses:

“I know. Keep going.”

Keep going.

So simple.

Still, you couldn’t breathe. Your sight was inundated with stars. You felt Joel’s stubble on your slit again, only this time, the pleasure was tripled. Your legs trembled, and your hands made fists in his hair. Joel kept on kissing.

And kissed again, again, and again, until your fingers in his locks pulled taut to the roots and your hips were bucking up in his face: ‘Too much, t—oh fuckfuckfuck.’

Then came a buzz. Skirting your legs in a blink, before diving to meet Joel’s mouth on your clit. You shrieked.

“I know, I know,” Joel joined, as though soothing a wound while he maneuvered the vibrator. Lifting his head and then kissing your thigh, “I know. You’re alright.”

You wanted to sob; you felt ready to burst. You trusted Joel’s judgment but had never been subjected to this sort of pleasure. What if it was more than you could take?

“I’m here.”

Joel’s words were slow to crawl off his tongue, but their intent was clear. You writhed once more, and he was kissing your skin, rubbing your thighs, and taking the toy to your clit with a warm, devoted touch. He wasn’t cruel.

He had a glint in his gaze when you met it, like he knew you wouldn’t accept this feeling alone—but he wanted you to. He wanted the indulgence to be your own and an end in itself. There was care in his touch, tender praise with every caress, and you guessed this was intentional. Joel needed you to know this was more than only his.

You felt more naked than you’d ever been: soaking the sheets with your last release, fresh arousal trickling out, Joel’s spit mixing with your nectar and sweat and pressing you down in the bed. And nudging you, gently.

“‘S’okay, baby. You’re alright. That feels nice, doesn’t i—”

“Kiss me.”

It came out faster than you could even try and stop it. You weren’t sure why you said it. The words were acerbic on your tongue—you hated ever sounding needy—but then your mind and your mouth and your worries were all silenced at once when Joel came clambering up for you.

His lips were wet and grinning as he kissed you. He held the vibrator hostage between your legs while his body pressed tight against yours. His movements slowed.

Then, as if he’d crawled in your head and read your mind:

“It’s okay to need me, baby. It’s okay to want this.”

His hips made that assurance even clearer. Joel reached down and took the vibrator again, increasing the friction between your groin and his while he pressed the buzzing toy to your clit. You whined into his mouth at the feeling.

Your eyes rolled back, and the pleasure soared. This morning, you might’ve bristled at the words he’d just spoken, but here, in this bed, it felt okay. It felt safe.

Joel felt safe, for once, and you weren’t sure how to keep that idea from sticking—how to reconcile the notion of swapping sex for cash with a man for months on end, and then this. Your stomach churned. He held your face and kissed you more, and your clit throbbed and ached. Before you could ponder your thoughts a second longer, a white-hot pleasure washed over, and you came again.

“Good girl,” Joel cooed.

Throbbing even more this time.

“That’s a sweet girl. That’s my baby.”

All but aching with desire. Feeling it double.

“Cum for daddy, that’s it. Keep going.”

Feeling it trickle down your legs.

“She’s feelin’ real good, huh?”

You could barely breathe.

You whined. Felt something splinter between your thighs and then more of it, more of you and that slick, oozing pleasure and Joel’s groans, overjoyed—‘Making a fucking mess’a daddy, isn’t she? She feel that good?’—and by ‘that good’ you guessed it was more than normal.

This was more warmth than usual. Somewhere in the midst of your own mind-numbing pleasure, you’d let out a spurt, sticky and wet. It now coated the hairs on Joel’s tummy, and while his skin shone, his eyes were brighter. He flitted a look to you, gaze flaring, and slid down. Low.

Back to where he was before. Moving the buzzing pink bullet aside and letting his mouth assume its place.

Of course, you yelped.

“Joel!”

You winced, both from saying his name and feeling so raw. Joel grinned at the sound and suckled your clit.

It was drenched. You and Joel, too, were doused all over and practically gleaming under the rays of late afternoon sun then pouring through the window. For a second, you cast a look outside like you had before, but it was only to brace your body for the bliss at hand. You stared and felt a crude, carnal shockwave seize you head to toe. It traveled fast and made you release, again, or else just continue the same flow as before—and this time, into Joel’s waiting mouth. He lapped at you feverishly now.

He squeezed your legs and licked you dry. He worked in merciless circles, like his life might have depended on making you stay at this peak. All the while, you were tearing at his hair. Riding his face as your body fell apart.

That was alright. This pleasure was yours for now, but there was still time yet to make it worth his while, you reasoned in a half-intoxicated state. Your legs vibrated as you started to crawl—limp—back up in the bed and, numb with elation and a desperate need to please, you stretched your arm toward the night stand. You huffed.

You reached blindly but got it. The box. Weak fingers found the first plastic strip and tore yourself a square. Then, lifting it to Joel, you ignored the last stabs of pleasure between your legs. This was fun, but still his.

“Go on,” you told him, breathless, “Fuck me.”

Joel quirked a brow. He took the condom, still panting himself. He brought the latex to his tip out of habit, then:

“Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh.”

Your head was swimming. Somewhere entrenched in the furthest recesses of your brain you could feel it, that dizzying, self-centered pleasure. You pushed it back.

You suffocated it, and you spread your legs wide for him. You let him lay you down and tug the rubber over his cock, then nudge at your hips to situate himself in just the right way. How he liked it. He seemed to be content, and your heart swelled. In this airy, buoyant state, you felt more at ease to speak, sure that he’d understand.

“This should cover some of it, right?” you panted out.

Joel slowed.

“What?”

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, eager to keep going. But you steeled yourself, just barely, then.

“Sex. Now,” you said, “It’ll cover some of my car repairs.”

Instead of nodding like you’d expected, Joel only blinked. Then you opened your mouth to speak again, and his body stopped you cold. He planted a hand beside your head on the pillow and raised his hips; you felt his heat leave with it. You reached for his backside immediately, to try and pull him back into that pre-missionary position he’d held, when Joel brushed you off. His face was hard.

“Money?” he quipped.

“Yeah,” you started, then remembered how you talked outside of the bedroom, when he seemed more serious, “We’ll go again. All week. You can even put it in my—”

Joel balked, like you’d just slapped him across the face.

“No,” he said, sharp.

“No,” he repeated, more to himself this second time. Almost as though he couldn’t believe what you were suggesting—and making him guilty by association.

Joel clenched your pillow like a vice and shook his head.

“You’re not getting paid for this,” he finished, and when your gaze penetrated his, confused, he squeezed harder.

“Thought you wanted it.” Joel added, almost shamefully.

“I do! I do…I just—” you sputtered.

“What? Think you need to offer up a week and a half of fucking to make it worth my time? Is that what this is?”

Well, in a way, maybe.

You weren’t sure what to say. Former dizzying bliss was dwindling fast, and now you were facing him cold. Sober.

Increasingly irritated, again.

“I just need money, Mr. Miller—”

“It’s Joel, hon,” he bit back, for the fourth time that day. His eyes flared with something more, maybe annoyance, but then he was tempering it just as fast. He ran a hand through his damp grey hair and shook his head, pausing, “It’s Joel. I know you need the money, baby, but it’s—”

“It’s what we agreed,” you protested, “What I need—”

“Well it’s not what I want!” Joel barked.

Anger surged again, and this time, evidently, the feeling was harder to keep at bay. He was scarcely able to rein in his features, settling on a grave little scowl instead of a frown, and he sucked in shorter, shallower breaths through his nose. You felt him let your pillow go.

“Forget it—the cash.” Joel grit his teeth even tighter, “Forget these payments and the goddamn allowance I’ve had you on. I can’t do that anymore. It’s not right.”

Your heart sank.

You didn’t know what to say.

Luckily, Joel’s voice resumed on its own.

“Whatever you want, whatever you need, sweetheart…”

He stopped. Silence followed, then stretched on for one full, terrible minute. In that interim, you could see his chest rise and fall fast. He was trying to slow it down.

“Whatever you need paid off, I’ll do it. Anything. You don’t have to touch me again. It was wrong of me to allow that in the first place,” he rejoined, tone cooling.

Sounding guilty, too.

Above you, Joel didn’t seem keen on holding your gaze, so he fixed his stare someplace on the headboard instead. Then he moved off your body, slowly.

In spite of the distance he attempted to give, he was still crowding your space. Looming large and bare and weary as you’d ever seen him, knees shuffling back awkwardly through a mass of cotton sheets while his eyes shifted low. Away. The rest of him filled your lungs with a heady cologne scent and your stomach with a thousand tiny blades—you were hurt that he wasn’t sticking to his end of the bargain. You were mad that he was trying to claim the moral high ground now, after everything you’d done.

Mostly, though, you were just upset that you felt like you were losing someone close. That Joel Miller was more of a confidant, friend, and father figure than your own dad had ever been, and that got all fucked up over money. Your lips pursed, and something stung behind your eyes when you reached for him again. Your throat stung, too.

“The reason I agreed to do this,” Joel went on, and the ache in your head worsened when he winced from your touch, “was ‘cause I didn’t want you getting ‘help’ from anyone else. I was selfish. And that’s not an excuse…”

He started to move off, hand dropping from yours.

“…but it’s the truth. I’m sorry.”

At length, Joel found your gaze, and the eyes said it all over again: I’m sorry. You might’ve believed them, too.

But you were you, and you couldn’t help but press:

“Why?”

Your voice was small. Joel was trying to stand from the bed, but you grabbed at his hand again and made him meet your eyes. Confusion was painted across his own.

Kneeling in front of him, curious, you tried to clarify.

“Why’d it have to be you?”

Judging from Joel’s expression as soon as you did, you got the sense that this question made him feel dumb. He frowned, but he held your stare and answered anyway.

“Because I wanted you first,” he replied, “Before all this.”

Your stomach twisted. He did?

You didn’t need to ask twice to know what that meant. What he’d said, in words and with a look, was enough. Still, it was always in you to know more, to be sure, so you crept a little closer. You let your hands roam up and—

“No,” Joel said, as soon as your fingers reached his side.

You’d just wanted to feel him, maybe prod him further on what he’d just said through acts that didn’t require verbal articulation, but he refused. He backed up in bed.

“This isn’t about—” he started, low.

“Sex. I know,” you answered for him. Then your touch grazed his thigh, and you were dying to have more. To be told in a way you both knew and understood. To touch, “You want me to believe you really…liked me before?”

“More than you know.”

There was that blunt, open pragmatism in the Joel you’d always known. Perhaps guided by natural inclinations, or else your hand on his leg, drawing higher. Moving closer.

Showing skepticism through your eyes and the hint of a playful, disbelieving smile starting to curl at your lips.

“When you met me?” you teased.

You’d known of Joel for years, and had met him a couple times as a teenager at various firm holiday functions. You probably hadn’t exchanged more than ten words altogether before starting law school a few years back.

“Hell no,” Joel answered, fast, “When you started work.”

His gaze was timid again. It was fixed on his thigh where you’d started to slide your index up the warm, muscled expanse of his skin, and though you could tell he was more than hesitant, you wanted to know. Wanted to feel.

It wasn’t so easy convincing a man you’d been working for—and fucking, largely without feeling—to pay bills that you wanted him here and now. But you needed to try.

That maybe, somewhere along the way, you’d come to want him, too. That cash wasn’t the only thing at stake.

You crawled between his legs, then straddled his hips.

Your lips smiling still as you did: “How much?”

Joel blinked back. Dazed.

“What do you m—”

“How much did you like me? When did it start?”

Joel sighed when your heat rubbed his. He tried grabbing ahold of your hips, when you glanced down and saw he’d already discarded the last condom. You couldn’t have that if you wanted to continue this talk.

You reached back and grabbed another.

“Darlin’,” Joel said, strained, “We shouldn’t…”

“Says who?”

You’d already worked the rubber halfway down his length when his heavy-lidded gaze locked with yours. You saw lust there, mixed with worry. Curiosity. You kept going.

“Says your dad, if he ever finds out what I’ve done to his little girl,” Joel replied, closing his eyes at the feeling.

You had the latex worked down to the base of him when you smiled. Felt him seize your hips, lids fluttering open to find you in their soft, glossy stare, and you felt better. Like clockwork, you went together and joined, at last. You felt Joel squeeze your backside and groan when you first sank down to take him whole. You shuddered, too.

But you tried to steady your voice as you spoke.

“Semantics, Miller,” you told him, only faltering a little, “Things you are ‘doing’ to his little girl. Not just ‘done.’”

There, you had a point. Surely your father would have had some choice words for his business partner and best friend if he knew how far Joel’s cock was currently stuffed inside your tight, wet cunt. It might even piss him off, if he weren’t too drunk to receive the news himself.

Joel blinked hard, signaling that he knew this too, and presently watched your body swallow all eight inches at once, after you’d raised yourself up to just the tip and sank back. Your ass fell to his groin with an obscene sort of squelch, and your walls involuntarily clenched. You both let out sounds of pleasure, and held on tighter.

Your hands on his chest for stability, while one of his own held your hip and the other fumbled around for your clit, gliding through the sheen of your arousal on his front. You rocked your hips and felt how much it really was—how you’d drenched his whole abdomen with your last release. You smiled at this and stared, pleased with the pretty, sticky display you’d laid bare all over Joel’s belly.

When Joel wasn’t watching you ride, he stared there too.

“Not so ‘little’ anymore,” he mused quietly. Then he looked up to find your eyes, seeing them as glazed as his, “And I ‘like’ you, hon. Present tense. Not just…‘liked.’”

Alright.

“How much?”

You wanted to say it with some confidence. Nonchalance. Then Joel’s cock nicked a particularly sensitive ridge inside your walls, and that thought was gone as quick as it had come. You gripped the flesh of his upper chest and rolled your hips harder. Let out your breaths in little fractured whimpers while you rode him more. Another sweet feeling twisted low in your gut.

With just a glimpse of that, Joel moved his hand from your heat up past your hips and waist, to squeeze one of your breasts. His fingers were wet. You could feel them, equal parts warmth and wanton yearning as the pads pinched your nipple and gave it a firm tug. He grunted.

Clearly, there was more to it than just the touching and feeling for him—Joel’s eyes drank in the sight of your skin as it glistened with the arousal he’d just smeared. He thumbed at the wet, stiff peak and swallowed. And, just as you were about to adjust the rhythm of your hips bouncing on him, his free hand joined the first and pulled you down. You cried feeling his cock wedge deep; your hands fell to either side of his body when he yanked your face down to his. He fucked up into you from underneath

You squealed, soft, “Joel!”

He kissed your open mouth. Made you lay flat overtop him while he fucked your dripping hole. You whimpered.

“Joel—” Again.

“I like you so much, sweetheart,” he said, in answer to your last question, lips close, “Does she like me too?”

As if to save him the trouble of a swift reply in words, your body told him instead. You squeezed around his cock, and with another desperate cry, bit his shoulder. He hammered your poor, aching pussy with a groan of his own, and he held your body down to his. Grinning.

Kissing the side of your head while he pounded away. Stroking your hair, “Is that a ‘yes’? She like her daddy?”

Drool was bound to slip out of your mouth any second. Your lips were locked in a permanent ‘o’ while he drilled from under you on the bed. Still, you managed to nod.

“Uh-huh—oh, fuck, fuck, da-ddy. Yes, daddy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as another blistering wave seared your insides. Joel was relentless with his thrusts now, driving himself in and out without stopping or slowing. He must’ve known you were close. He was too, judging by the sounds of his grunts and hushed tone.

“Let daddy take care of her then, baby. All of her. OK?”

His words trickled through your ear as sweet as honey. His cock was less kind, but that was okay—you liked it.

You loved him here. Taking care of you. Her. Everything.

And, in this half-coherent state of fuckdrunk pleasure, you were tempted to give in to whatever he begged.

It would be so easy. Joel cradled your face in his hand, practically beaming with pride while he fucked you over and over, and your legs were spread, walls were stretched, eyes practically rolling back, and you felt more secure than you’d been in ages. Joel could care for you.

He rubbed his thumb over your cheek and hummed.

“Daddy’s got you,” he said, voice all warm assurance.

Nudging you closer and closer to your peak—and perhaps some other form of surrender. Release.

Submission?

Joel wouldn’t be so bad for that.

He could fuck you well and leave you content. Make you forget what it meant to be strapped for cash and saddled with guilt and worry over bills every month. Joel could provide, for now. His eyes said as much; his fingers threaded through your hair and rubbed your scalp. He cupped your face, all fifty-six years in his own looking as handsome as they’d ever been. He felt good. He felt safe.

You were hot. Your legs trembled and ached.

“Is that something you’d want?” he pressed.

And, still holding Joel’s gaze with a heavy-lidded, fucked out look of your own, you surprised yourself by nodding, slowly. Your body was spent, but the curve on your lips, then his, was sincere; Joel nodded back as he grinned.

“Yeah? You mean it, sweetheart?”

He flipped you both over and got on top, never breaking apart. You wound your legs around his back and let him cup your cheeks again, and from this angle, you felt it. You wouldn’t try and fight it now; you just kissed him.

Then you came for a third time, walls clenching and squeezing and gushing again, smearing Joel’s front as he fucked you right through it. His groans were a little more subdued than yours, but in their timbre, you could hear his desperation. He emptied himself inside you, in the condom, and kept holding your face all the while.

You felt a low pulse between your legs. Then another. And another. And another. Joel’s hips began to still, his hefty greying belly bumping lightly against your skin while he drained what was left in his balls, and you swore that his bones might’ve creaked from the sheer force of those final thrusts. He seemed exhausted. Somehow, though, the man looked even better in this state—haggard and worn as he was, the face above your own was soft. Smiling, faintly, and kissing you constantly.

You couldn’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it; you were far too tired and fucked out of your mind to protest right now.

Joel trailed a path with his lips from your chin to your ear. He kissed the hinge of your jaw and sank himself deeper.

“Mr.—” But you caught yourself, shortly, “…Joel.”

He lifted his head, not apologetic in the least.

“Maybe just one more—” he started.

“No,” you finished for him, sharp.

Still smiling, but with your eyes on him in a thinly veiled threat. Joel accepted that and kept his dick where it was.

What followed was gradual but natural enough. A little awkward as you broached that uncharted territory of remaining in the other’s presence after the deed was done, but Joel didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the bed, and you had nowhere else to go until dinner with your dad at eight. There was a moment you wanted to separate your body from Joel’s, if only to slip off to the bathroom by yourself, but the man just held you closer.

“You think your old man will mind if I joined tonight?”

Here the fuck we go.

“He’ll kill you.”

You pushed hard against his hold without getting so much as an inch of give. Joel had to fight back a chuckle.

“Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because,” you began in a huff. Wriggling with very little success in his arms, while you were pinned in missionary, “I smell like you. You smell like me. My dad’s a drunk, but he can sniff stuff like that out in a heartbeat. Too risky.”

You punctuated those words with a still more serious look, but before you could nudge at his chest again or say something more, you were forced to swallow a scream. Joel’s grip tightened even more, and he moved to stand up from the bed—with you still in his arms and impaled on his cock. He started to walk to the bathroom.

“Great. Shower’s got plenty of room for the two of us.”

“Joel!”

“Glad I don’t have to keep reminding you of my name.”

His voice was smug. Your gaze was hard. Joel was still hard himself, amazingly, and you almost groaned when you felt the head of his cock bump somewhere soft and sensitive inside. He toted you into the big, bright room.

“If not tonight, how ‘bout tomorrow? Just you and me.”

He would never stop this shit. He reached for the faucet.

“Still too dangerous. You know that,” you chided. Your resolve only wavered a little when you felt the hot water start to pelt at your back. Joel closed the glass door, “Besides…I need to focus on figuring my shit out right now. Work and bills and getting myself a rental car soon.”

Joel paused. He turned, still holding you.

Then, just as swiftly as he’d stepped inside, he carried you right back out of the shower. You whined in protest.

He took you over to the bed and set you down. He left to find his wallet and keys. You might’ve been tempted to voice your displeasure in some other way—namely, by marching back to the bathroom, locking the door, and bathing alone—but before you could speak a word, Joel was back. He looked down at you and held out his fist.

“What’s—”

“Your dad and me’ll be up to our eyeballs in bullshit working the Garcia audit tomorrow—and I know you don’t want him seeing us leave together anywhere—so we can meet at Bohanan’s at six. How does that sound?”

You blinked.

“I don’t…have a car.”

Joel opened his hand. Keys dropped out.

In a single glance, you could see they weren’t his.

Joel drove a garish Super Duty F-450, not an Audi. The cogs were quick to turn in your head, but clearly not fast enough, because Joel was closing your fingers over the keys before you could breathe so much as a syllable to him. When you did, it came out more like a stutter. Palpably mad but far too rattled to get much out:

“Joel, I-I can’t—”

“I’ve been meaning to buy one anyw—”

“You’re insane,” you started to push the keys back, and for some reason, your heart was thudding extra hard as you did. You went on, unblinking, “You don’t…need to.”

“I want to.”

Joel’s hands were warm when he pressed both of his palms to secure yours between them. He could probably feel the way it shook a little, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze was too busy trying to find, and hold, your own while you swallowed and stared and racked your numb brain for any words of defiance. At length, nothing came.

All you could do was meet that look. In the soft brown irises above, you could see it all—the need to comfort, and care, and provide where he could, offer better than the hand you’d been dealt and maybe, interspersed with those feelings somewhere, a simpler need in him to give.

For once, you wanted to believe it.

Fun fact: This fic was inspired by true events‼️💯 My life 😫🤪😤😈 Like reader, my truck is also busted as SHIT and needs $2,700 in repairs!!!! Unlike reader, I will not be sucking and fucking Joel Miller to recoup my losses (not asking for donations, just wanted to give y’all a giggle at my misfortune LOL)

[tgcg]

tell your loved ones

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 12:01 --

TG: hey im on the john

JOHN: hey, dave is taking a dump.

TG: taking a shit just so were clear

JADE: jeez!!!!!!! even when im not online i have to hear about it

TG: i know you care so youre first to know

JOHN: i'm just giving you a heads up for the bajillion messages you will definitely have about this when you get home.

EB: god, thank you. that is awesome. dave fans everywhere are gonna go NUTS for this truth nugget.

EB: hey, i am at the store with jade!

TG: tell her the news

EB: i did as soon as you first pinged me, don't worry.

TG: hell yeah see you just fucking get it

JADE: well tell him i say congrats!

EB: she says congrats.

EB: also that you left your "yeah! woo!" machine at her place.

EB: and that you are gross and smell like a dog took a dump on a fart even when you aren't crapping during our conversations.

TG: goddamn

EB: jk that last bit was me heheh. but she nodded!

EB: so anyways, a yeah woo machine?

EB: what the hell even IS that?

JADE: its more or less a machine that yeahs and woos

TG: its basically a machine that yeahs and woos

EB: ok, yeah, that is pretty much exactly what jade said too. apparently this is supposed to be obvious.

JADE: its pretty self explanatory!

TG: pretty self explanatory stuff

TG: anyways im gonna tell karkat this time i think im ready for that

EB: oh shit (LOL), that's a pretty big deal, right? good luck dude.

--

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] at 12:03 --

TG: ok karkat can i be unbelievably candid with you is dj crabapple ready for this

TG: this is a really big deal for me but like no pressure

CG: SHIT, IS EVERYTHING OK?

CG: DO I NEED TO COME OVER THERE.

TG: no no its good i just really need to confess something

CG: WHATEVER IT IS, TELL ME. I'M HERE.

TG: alright

TG: deep breath strider

--

TG: im dropping mad logs like bars in the ablution block vantas

TG: shit is on fire

TG: downright heretical like a shat outta hell

TG: and since im feeling penitent i figure our pesterlogs are pretty much akin to a confessional booth right

CG:

--

-- tentacleTherapist [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 12:04 --

TT: Hey Dave.

TT: Are you, by any chance, taking a shit right now?

TG: damn word spreads fast on the information superhighway

TT: Yes, I have had the news forwarded to me via this bountiful virtual dimension of knowledge and culture we call the World Wide Web by a fellow enthusiast, one ectoBiologist.

TT: Frankly I'm heartbroken you didn't come to me about it first.

TT: Please, divulge to your loving sister the nature of your bowel movements, in exhaustive detail. Highlights in a notarized list, an overall ranking grade of your experience, whether you would recommend it to your friends, et cetera. These would be among my most pertinent avenues of inquiry.

TG: you were next on the mailing list rose im already on it

TG: boutta weave a verbal tapestry no holds barred just for you about my rambunctious foray down in brown town

TG: stay tubed

TT: Thank god. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't peruse your commodal follies like the morning gazette.

TG: dont act like this has educational value rose

TG: we all know my daily bullshit has got a laugh track

TG: like damn what kind of gazettes are you getting

TT: The best kind, Dave. Only the best kind.

TG: thanks for the vote of confidence

TG: wait gimme a sec karkat pinged

TT: Of course. I understand it's quite a big deal for you.

--

CG: OK.

CG: SINCE THIS APPARENTLY SKIRTS THE FRESHEST BUDS OF OUR BRO-DOM'S BURGEONING FROND NUB, I *ALSO* HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SHARE.

CG: I HOPE YOUR REFLECTIVE ABLUTION VAULT IS STOCKED WITH FUCKING RUMBLESPHERE TRANQUILIZERS, BECAUSE THIS EXCHANGE IS ABOUT TO GET SHITHIVE MAGGOTS.

CG: LISTEN CAREFULLY.

TG: whats up

--

CG: I AM ALSO ON THE LOAD GAPER RIGHT NOW.

TG: oh shiiit

CG: DON'T UNCLENCH YOUR EXPLOSIVE FUCKING SEED FLAP JUST YET, BECAUSE THERE'S *MORE*!

CG: I AM *ALSO* TAKING A CRAP.

TG: oh shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

CG: OH SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT

[survivingandenduring]

Here she is after 3 months with no Dave 😭

to live for the hope of it all

series masterlist • this is part VI

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3k

summary: Your time together slowly comes to an end.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, fluff, alcohol consumption, infidelity (Dave is cheating on his wife), reader is described as smaller than Dave and he pulls her hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, oral sex (m&f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), somnophilia, basically free use kink, semi-public sex, dirty talk, orgasm denial, Dave is a menace, praise kink, one (1) ass slap, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: all my love to @joelscurls who looked this over and assured me that it isn’t trash, you’re the best <3

i can’t believe it myself, but by the looks of it, this is the penultimate chapter. i was a feral and emotional mess while writing this and it shows. i’m not sorry about the ending.

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here and follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates <3

You wake up slowly, not ready to let go of the dream that you had been lost in. Dave had been all over you, his hands and mouth touching your skin softly, more softly than you’re used to. Your mind is still holding on to the feeling, desire is throbbing between your legs and you could swear that you can still feel his tongue on you. You feel so warm, so full of bliss, you don’t ever want to leave this state.

Your eyes snap open at the sensation of something entering you, a sensation that feels too real to still be part of your dream. Your gasp resounds loudly in the quiet room and a low chuckle reaches your ears, hot breaths fanning against your wet pussy.

Your eyes fly down to find Dave between your legs, smirking up at you. His chin is drenched in your slick and his gaze burns into yours, before he dives back in, sucking your clit between his plush lips and pumping two fingers into you.

Your head falls back against the pillows, a moan rising in your throat as your hips buck upwards, chasing his touch. You have no idea how long he has been at this, but you feel swollen, heat engulfing you, the tension in your body already close to snapping.

“Dave,” you whimper, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

He grunts in response, sucking harder and speeding up his thrusts. You’re trembling, your hands flying to grasp at his hair, anything to keep you grounded while your mind is still struggling to catch up to the sensations that you’ve just woken up to.

You grind your hips into his face, your grip in his hair tightening and you note somewhere in the back of your mind that usually, you’d get scolded for this. But right now, he just groans against you, the added vibrations driving you closer to the edge until you writhe against him, loud moans of his name leaving your mouth as your whole body tenses up, the heat inside of you reaching a boiling point until you break underneath him, pulsing around his fingers and drenching his face with the wetness that’s gushing out of you.

You slump against the mattress as you gradually come down, your thighs twitching as he places another chaste kiss on your clit, then comes back up until he’s face to face with you. You’re breathless, watching with wide eyes as he wipes his chin, a pleased grin on his face.

“Good morning,” he tells you, as nonchalant as if he hadn’t just melted your brain within five minutes of you waking up.

“Hi,” you mumble, lazily smiling up at him, still basking in the bliss of your slowly subsiding orgasm, “thank you.”

He leans down to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and letting you taste yourself, almost making you moan again.

“Looked so pretty this morning, I couldn’t help myself.”

You bury your face in his neck, hiding the smile that’s spreading over your face. This is it, you think, this is all you want, forever.

He orders breakfast while you shower and waits for you in the living area when you exit the bathroom, clad in another skimpy dress that you bought just for this trip. He’s sipping a coffee and slowly chewing on a pastry when you enter the room, his eyes following your every move.

He tuts when you pull out a chair next to him, making you pause, your gaze flying up to his face. The dark glint that you’ve come to recognize is back in his eyes and you feel goosebumps erupting on your skin, arousal already beginning to swirl in your belly again.

“Down there,” he tells you, tilting his head down to his feet.

It’s probably embarrassing how fast you sink down to your knees, obediently sitting on the ground beside him, and it’s probably even more embarrassing how wet it gets you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Your mind is taken up by the want, the need to please him, drowning everything else out.

He threads his fingers through your hair, directing your body until you’re sitting between his legs, the bulge in his pants in your direct eyesight. Your mouth is watering and you can’t suppress the whine that escapes you. He chuckles, giving your hair a hard tug.

“Patience, sweetheart. Show me your tits first.”

Your fingers are pushing down the straps of your dress as quickly as you can, revealing your naked chest to him. Your nipples are pebbling in the cool air of the room and you present yourself to him, folding your hands behind your back.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, reaching down to toy with your sensitive flesh, tugging and pinching until you’re squirming, rubbing your thighs together to ease some of the ache that’s burning between your legs again. He gives you a particularly hard pinch that makes you gasp, then leans back in his chair, smirking down at you.

“Now open your mouth.”

You obey eagerly, your eyes wide as you stare up at him, waiting for what comes next. He lets you sit like that for a few moments, watching as your drool slowly collects on your tongue and dribbles out of your mouth.

He chuckles again, eyes trained on your face as he opens his pants and releases his cock. You want to beg for him, want him to know how much you need him, but you remain motionless, mouth wide open like he told you to.

“So good this morning,” he praises you, petting your head before he fists your hair again and pulls you forward. He holds you there while he grabs his cock with his other hand, rubbing the head over your tongue until it’s drenched in your saliva, then smearing it all over your face. You whine louder this time, the degradation turning you on beyond belief, and he slaps his cock against your cheek.

“Did I tell you to make any noise?!” he demands, his voice cold. You give an infinitesimal shake of your head, which is as much movement as you can manage with his grip still tight in your hair.

“Didn’t think so,” he murmurs. Then he thrusts forward, burying himself in your throat. You splutter around him, forcing yourself to keep your hands behind your back as he pulls your head back up and then down his length again.

You let him move you however he wants, making you gag over and over when he holds you down and thrusts into you simultaneously. It’s filthy, your face is drenched in tears and drool, but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he grits out, his hold on your hair tightening further, smirking down at you. “Here's your breakfast.”

It shouldn’t turn you on the way it does.

You’re burning and your slick is covering your thighs when his movements finally still and he spills down your throat. You swallow dutifully, cherishing the bitter taste and keeping your eyes trained on his face, just the way he likes.

You squirm under his gaze as he takes in the way you rub your thighs together, hips humping thin air, desperate for friction.

“You wanna come again already?”

You nod helplessly, pouting up at him. “Please, sir.” Your voice is raspy from the way he just assaulted your throat and you can tell that he likes it.

“That’s too bad,” he shrugs, pushing his chair back and standing up.

“You-“

You glare at him from your place on the floor, not trusting your trembling legs to carry you just yet. He leans down and pecks your lips, clearly pleased with himself, before he’s slowly pulling you up until you’re standing in front of him.

“Have some breakfast,” he tells you gently, placing another kiss on your cheek and embracing you in his arms. “You did so good.”

You help yourself to some fruit, ignoring both the incessant throbbing of need between your legs and the flutter in your chest at his sudden gentleness.

You spend the day down at the small bay, lounging on one of the bigger beach beds that has enough room for the both of you.

You’re soaking in the sunshine and the sound of the waves rolling to the shore, with your head resting on Dave’s bare chest. You’ve decided to give your book another try, but it’s getting increasingly harder to focus on the words in front of you. Your gaze keeps trailing up to his face, where you’re more often than not met with his eyes already on you.

His hands are on you constantly, his fingers softly drawing shapes onto your skin. It’s nice, an unhurried kind of intimacy that you rarely experience with him. You wish you could stop time, to keep living in this moment with him, in this sliver of existence where it’s so easy to pretend that he’s yours, that you’ll always be together like this.

Over the course of the afternoon, his touches grow more demanding, hands inching towards your breasts, trailing the seams of your bikini and ghosting over the fabric, a sensation that’s barely there, but enough to make your nipples tighten until they’re pressing against the skimpy piece of clothing and you’re squirming against him, arousal once more hot between your thighs.

You catch his eye, the controlled, almost unimpressed expression on his face that once again makes it clear without doubt how in control of you he is. You want to melt against him.

In the evening, you’re leaning against the balcony’s railing, watching the shades of pink and orange in the sky slowly morphing into darkness and the stars twinkling to life above you.

Dave comes up behind you, his body leaning into yours and pressing you against the rail while his hand skims over your thigh and trails underneath your dress, pushing the hem up as it travels higher. The need that you have tried to suppress the whole day despite his wandering hands flares back up and has you squirming, grinding against him. You feel his cock harden and press against your backside, and a whine escapes you. You’re already drenched, and eager to take everything that he has to give you.

He shushes you, his breath hot against your neck while he’s still pushing the dress up higher until your bare ass is exposed to him. You hadn’t bothered with underwear this evening, excitedly awaiting his reaction.

“Fuck,” he hisses and grabs at your cheeks, his grip digging into the flesh as you push back against him. “All ready and waiting for me, huh?”

His fingers dip between your legs and swirl through your slick folds, barely brushing against your clit, but the short contact is enough to make you moan out loud.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” he growls and his hand connects with your ass in a harsh slap. You bite your lip hard to stop yourself from crying out again and feel another gush of wetness cover your thighs. You’re positively dripping for him, all rational thoughts wiped from your mind. You don’t care who could see you, who could hear you, you just want him inside of you now.

Dave has a seemingly endless amount of patience when it comes to teasing you, but right now, he appears to be just as desperate as you feel. The clink of his belt buckle has you pressing your thighs together, the need for any kind of friction almost painful at this point, but within seconds, he roughly kicks your legs apart, his fingers curling around your neck and bending you forward.

The feeling of his cock nudging at your pussy makes you gasp and he slowly presses forward, making you feel every inch as your walls stretch around him. You’re pressing your lips together, almost trembling with the effort of keeping quiet.

“Dirty girl,” Dave rasps in your ear, his teeth nipping at your skin, “fucking desperate, letting me fuck you out here for everyone to see.”

You clench around him at his words and he chuckles darkly, slowly pulling back before he thrusts back into you, knocking the air out of your lungs. His grip on your neck tightens and he speeds up, slamming into you again and again until your vision blurs and you’re gasping, holding onto the railing for dear life as he ravages your cunt. A particularly deep thrust forces a loud moan out of you that you can’t hold back and he stills, his hand leaving your neck and moving to cover your mouth instead.

“What’d I tell you, huh? Fucking slut, you want people to see you, don’t you?”

You shake your head, trying to crane your neck to look at him, but his hold on your face is too strong and you give up, a defeated whimper escaping you.

He leans forward, nuzzling against your throat and kissing your sensitive skin surprisingly gently. “Color, sweetheart?”

His hand lifts just enough that you can whisper out “green, sir” against it, before he seals it back over your mouth. He exhales sharply before he pulls back and takes up his rhythm again, his cock pounding into you hard enough to make you see stars behind your eyelids.

“You’re so fucking perfect… Fucking made for me,” he growls and you can’t stop the whines that are falling from your lips and come out muffled against his hand. It’s all too much, his dirty words in your ear, the sensation of his cock hitting so deep inside you over and over.

“Quit it,” he barks, not faltering in his thrusts but pulling your head back further so that you’re arching against him. “One more sound and I’m not gonna let you come, are we clear?”

You nod desperately, your eyes squeezed shut and your whole body trembling with the effort to stay quiet, even though this slightly different angle is bringing you to the edge so fast that you don’t think you could hold your orgasm back if you tried.

He has to feel you tightening around him, because he gasps out, “go ahead baby, come for me,” and you do, your scream muffled against his hand as pure ecstasy flows through your body and your vision blacks out completely. His grip on your hips is bruising as he joins you, spilling his seed deep inside of you and pressing open-mouthed kisses against your neck and shoulders.

Your shaking legs barely keep you upright and he half leads, half carries you into the bedroom, a constant string of praise whispered against your heated skin.

The following days are a rush of sunshine, swimming and fucking at any given opportunity. You want to cherish every second, commit them to memory, but it feels like time is speeding up, the way it so often does when all you want is for it to pass more slowly. But it’s running out, like sand running through an hourglass, much like the sand that you’ve so often curled your toes into during the past week.

You don’t want to go back to your old life, don’t want to go back to having him only for a few days a month, never sure when he’ll come back, always on borrowed time. You want him with you, the little things, want to wake up to him next to you, want to have coffee when it’s still dark out, want to come home to each other, laugh with him, his hand sliding into yours when you walk. You want a life with him and that thought terrifies you. He has that life with someone, and it’s not you.

He hasn’t brought the “I’ll get out” back up and you haven’t asked. You’re not sure if it’s your place, and you like to think that he’ll come to you if he wants to talk about it. When he said it, in the darkness of your room, you had just mumbled an “okay” and pressed a light kiss against the side of his mouth. He had hummed and pulled you closer, both of you drifting off to sleep.

But, even if he gets out - what does it change for you?

It’s the last evening, you’re sated and happy. You can still feel today’s sunshine on your skin as you’re sitting on a couch at the edge of the dinner restaurant’s terrace. You’ve been watching the sunset, sipping on glasses of wine, your head resting on Dave’s shoulder, talking in low voices. Your hands are tangled up, fingers dancing across warm skin, never quite coming to rest.

The memory of the last couple of days is a blur of tangled limbs in white hotel sheets, lips pressed against each other almost constantly, a mix of sunshine and salty ocean air surrounding you, and endearments whispered into your ear in the dark of the night. You’re so happy that it makes you sad, your heart so full that you have no idea how to cope when you’re no longer feeling like this.

When you get back up to the room, he makes love to you in the semi-darkness, the sound of the waves filtering in through the open balcony door. You don’t know what else to call it. Normally, you’d say that he fucks you, but this is not that. His hands are soft on your skin, his lips are everywhere as he murmurs how beautiful you are over and over again.

You bite your lip when he shatters above you, when more kisses are placed on your skin and you’re pulled into his chest. You don’t allow yourself the thought that this feels like goodbye.

The journey back home goes by too quickly. It feels like you’ve barely blinked after waking up, then you’re already on the plane, then in a cab, then Dave is carrying your suitcase up to your flat before he kisses you goodbye. A few hours later, a text on your phone tells you that he has arrived home safely.

After that, you don’t hear from Dave York for three months.

if you liked this (or if you want to scream at me), please consider reblogging or leaving a comment 🫶🏻 i turned 29 two minutes before posting this and hearing your thoughts would be a lovely birthday gift 😇