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octoberautumnbox · 2 months ago

Note

Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning

Hell Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think

Word count: 5.5k holy shit

a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD

~~~

A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control.

“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.�� She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”

You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”

She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”

“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head.

A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it.

However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?

“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.

It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.”

“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”

“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”

Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished.

~~~

In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red.

Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach.

“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough.

“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease.

“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”

“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”

You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”

“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.

“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over.

It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”

She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.”

~~~

“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it.

“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”

Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”

Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”

“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”

“Cute. You know she likes you too?”

“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”

“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor.

Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.

She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”

“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.

Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–

“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”

Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”

Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.

“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders.

“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”

You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”

“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”

“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.

~~~

“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”

“Yeah, about the bet.”

“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again.

“You want…?”

It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.

“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”

“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”

“... A cum tribute.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to…?”

“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”

“You want a photo of–”

“Video.”

“You–video?”

“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”

There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you.

“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”

“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time.

~~~

“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”

You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision.

“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement.

“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room.

Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.

“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit.

“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her?

“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks.

“Do you… Do you have a tie?”

Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you.

“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one.

She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.

You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?”

“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.

Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.

You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets.

Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest.

She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin.

She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.

It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven.

“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Do you have condoms?”

“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen.

You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of.

“Go easy, okay? I told you…”

“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same.

Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”

So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of.

“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.

“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…

You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent.

Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse.

“You good? Still alive?”

All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.

“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”

“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”

And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner.

Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.

“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip.

Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this.

A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it.

Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants.

Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again.

Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready.

Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now.

It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you.

It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love.

Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you.

Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward.

“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her.

Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up.

An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn.

~~~

Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.

“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime.

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note.

“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold.

“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”

Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”

“... Did you want me to?”

“Yeah…?”

Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.

Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”

She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops.

“Shit, sorry–”

“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, ��or take a proper video.”

Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words:

“Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Can you go again that soon?”

“If it's you, of course.”

“Don't guys need to recharge?”

“... I'll handle it.”

~~~

#girl group smut #kpop smut #triples smut #yubin smut #gong yubin #triples yubin #fic box #ask box

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inupibaldspot · 1 year ago

Text

So It Matches Your Eyes.

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Reader

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Highschool!Gojo has a crush on you, idk mane.

To Yaga, this was a sight of fresh air which almost acted a light reminder that his students being so strong and special affiliated with cursed energies where still children.

His four second year students were all under detention after forgetting to make a veil when they carried out a mission. Dealing with the after math which consisted of explains to the elders and finding excuses on how to twist the media had led him to not sleeping for three days! Now he was making all of them write an descriptive essay on why veils are such importance to jujutsu sorcerers . Shoko’s seat was empty though , she was summoned in the infirmary after a third year student was severely injured from a mission, Yaga hoped Shoko didn’t miss out too much of her school days.

Despite, Yaga having a book in his hands as he read through got distracted my a certain trouble maker student, Gojo Satoru. A strong young man born into the esteemed Gojo Clan, blessed with infinity and six eyes was currently looking a certain someone sitting next to him.

You who was always diligent was working on your essay, occasionally closing your eyes with a small pout and when you felt you finally got a point worth writing down,tongue slightly jutting out from the corner of your lips which would make Gojo’s lips curl up as his eyes soften. Ahh young love.

Yaga had noticed how Gojo’s seat would be much closer to yours as compared to the regular seating arrangements, and if anyone Yaga himself would come in early and make changes to the seating, Gojo would always nonchalantly, without fail shift it closer to yours.

“Yaga Sensei, I’m done!” You shouted up from your seat which made both Yaga and Gojo, jump as you rush quickly up to your teacher with your paper which you had your essay written on. “ I’m done so I’ll be leaving. Drama of Haruma Miura will be coming out and I haveeee to watch it live.”

“Wai-!” Ignoring Yaga’s shout you quickly made your way out of the door leaving a trail of dust behind with how quick you were which made Geto laugh at your antics.

Yaga quickly scans through you essay and sighs. It’s well written so I have no place to complain. “Sensei, I’m also done!” Gojo quickly rushes to his teacher and places his paper on his table about to rush away, in a rush to follow you.

Before Gojo could take another step, he felt a tug on his collar as his turns his head to look at his teacher who had a scrowl on his face. “Satoru,I asked for a descriptive essay!”

“Not only did you write me an argumentative essay, your essay completely sided with not putting up a veil because that’s a drag and ordinary people should just suck it up.” Geto sits completely amused, as Yaga never lets go of Gojo’s collar as he continues to shout at him, the way you’ve got Gojo completely following you everywhere with his puppy love was funny as fuck.

You flinch as the door to your slams open which makes you turn your head to find a scrolling Satoru Gojo walk in with his hands in pocket. “ Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

“Beats me.” Despite entering the room like an uncivilized person would gently close the door behind him, he didn’t want more scolding from you. His eyes trails to you who sat on your bed with a small table on your bed, your hand was extended with nail polish es sets on the table. “Weren’t you gonna watch a drama or something?”

You huff as you made sure your left hand was staying still,making sure the mail polish dries properly. “He kisses the female lead so I don’t wanna watch the drama no more…”

Gojo’s smiles, a condescending one in fact as he walks and slowly sits on your bed making sure your nail polishes don’t fall over. “Sucks to be you~” He purrs out his words.

“Hmp! I hope Inuoe Waka gets exposed for having a husband.” You say with Gojo going ‘blah blah’ in the background, smile still plastered on his face. Your eyes look over to his, sharing an eye contact as you smile. “Want to put on some nail polish?”

Gojo peers over. “You gonna apply for me right?” And smiles when you have a nod of confirmation as he hurriedly out-stretched his hand towards you.

“Really? I thought you’d be against it,saying something like this ain’t what men do?” Gojo have no shit to that thought, as long as the girl he had a big fat crush on, holds his hand, a win is a win.

You look over you collection. “What color do you want?.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Maybe blue…a blue which would look similar to your eyes.”

“Beautiful…” Gojo slightly melts as you peer over your collection, your hair slightly covering your face as the evening light from the sun gives your face a heavenly look. “I meant of course! My eyes are a beautiful blue!” He stammers through his sentences as he fights back the heat on his face.

You looked at him with a scowl, what an egotistical brat! Was written all over your fave but then you didn’t say a word as you picked up a color and held his hand, bringing it closer to yours as you start applying the nail polish.

Gojo felt as if the part of his hands which were held were extremely warm, he hoped he doesn’t start sweating. But as he continues to look at you and your eyes which was focused on his fingers, he felt very light, as if this was how it was always meant to be with him being with you and you who looked simply so beautiful as the room was engulfed in a comfortable silence.

“Done!” You smiled as you looked at the nail polish on Gojo’s fingers before your lips curled upwards turned into a pout. “You’re so unfair, Satoru…”

Gojo tilted his head in confusion. “What did I do?”

“Even your hand is so pretty.” You huff as you brought your hands next to his. Gojo’s hands were big yet it was so slim with proper trimmed nails , you had no doubt if he were to become a nail model he’d be booked and busy.

Gojo felt heat rush into his face as he tried to keep his heart from beating too fast as his brain starts to make unconfirmed scenario but in which all of them contained you. “What do you mean ‘even’?”

You looked into his eyes for a brief second as you slowly look away, your cheeks had a beautiful flush to it. “I mean… you’re born into the Gojo clan so you’re already freaking rich… you have such cool cursed techniques, you’re already a special grade sorcerer.”

Gojo bites the inside of his cheeks In disappointment from your answer. As he opened his mouth, about to make a snarky remark you beat him to it.

“You’re tall, your hair always looks good no matter how you style it, your eyes are so beautiful which looked like the limitless skies , you’re also good looking…” you finally look into his eyes, Gojo thought that it was his day to die for a second at how adorable you looked with a shy look into your face. “So it’s unfair that you even got pretty hands.. you literally got everything.”

“…you.” Gojo muttered in a low, quiet voice which you couldn’t understand properly so you titled you head as you have him a confused look, blush still dusted on your cheeks from your confession.

“I don’t have you…” He repeated. “If you were mine then only can I say I have everything.” Gojo had always made many scenarios which was about him confessing to you as he attended class, in his showers, before he slept but this, this wasn’t part of his scenario. This wasn’t how he thought he’d be confessing to you but then the moment now seemed just right.

“I see… I guess that really means you’ve got everything.” You break into a smile as you then put out your hand towards him. “Do you mind coloring this hand of mine?”

Gojo smiles as his heart soars, he tries to control his lips from curling into a smile but then despite being the strongest sorcerer of his generation he is unable to; he was simply that happy, so happy that you reciprocated his feelings. “What color?”

“Blue like yours…So we can show everyone that I belong to you,Satoru.”

Guys I’m kinda proud of this cus even I was giggling, twirling my hair and swinging my legs writing this

#gojo imagine #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo fluff

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r4spb3rr13s · 7 months ago

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“what? surprised i’m smarter than you, bakugou?”

katsuki doesn’t have an answer.

the first day he saw you, you were striding past him towards the dorm room right next to his with mina hanging off your arm. you had thick sunglasses pushing your hair back, chunky gold hoops dangling from your lobes and a big, playboy bunny necklace resting between your tits.

he had to hold in the aggressive eye-roll when you introduced yourself to him with a sly grin. your lips were glittery, baby pink and looked soft- no, they didn’t, what?

he’d stared at your hand and went into his room without a word.

his night was spent listening to you and mina blast someone called ‘ayesha erotica’. he’d never wanted to blow someone’s speakers up more.

it unfortunately wasn’t the last he’d seen of you- no, you decided to start popping up everywhere. it’s almost like you were trying to get on his nerves. that’s how katsuki felt anyways.

he would be leaving his lecture, and you were strutting past in the denim shorts held around your hips with a chunky belt. your belly ring glinted in the sun, and the click clack of your heeled boots made the zip of your ‘juicy’ hoodie slip down with every step.

he hated to say it, but he froze in the doorway and watched the entire way you walked.

then he snapped himself out of it and hurried away like an embarrassed schoolgirl.

but then it happened again- this time, you were in flared leggings and a tube top, platform sandals showing off your painted toes - katsuki noticed they matched your nails.

you’d been talking to mina, and noticed him staring, so you waggled your fingers at him.

he flipped you off.

it was the start to a beautiful friendship, historians would say.

when the pink girl brought you to one of their parties, katsuki dropped his head into his hands and tried his best not to groan. you, with your dumb smile, stood in a tiny halter-neck dress.

your smile didn’t bother katsuki the most that night, though - it was more the fact hanta and denki had taken it upon themselves to sandwich you in between them.

but he watched you- you with your big, wide eyes, your stupid giggles and you slapping their chests and telling them to ‘stooooppp!’

it really pissed him off.

how could you be so dumb? it was obvious what they were doing, and everyone knew they were fucking whores-

why was he so mad?

he shut himself in his room for a week after that.

so when he saw you and mina stood outside your professor’s office holding pieces of paper, katsuki didn’t know what to think.

oh god, what if you started crying at your grade? fuck- he just needed to walk away and avoid your blubbering-

“bakugou!! come look at y/n’s essay!” mina yelled.

his shoulders dropped, and he prepared himself to pretend to be nice - it took so much energy to pretend to be nice for katsuki!

but still, he didn’t want to make your brows furrow, or eyes fill with tears. he didn’t fucking know why. he just didn’t, okay?

so he trudges over… and you’re grinning, from ear to ear. you’re in your typical attire - a tiny cami holding you in and a zebra print skirt cutting off way too high to be deemed appropriate for school.

he wasn’t really complaining though, because every flash of skin made his heart punch his chest.

you thrust the paper into his hands, and he grunts, giving you a little glare.

you stick your tongue out at him, but he starts to read.

and… it’s amazing?

it’s well written, the paragraphs flow, your topic is so interesting and something katsuki would have never even begun to think about-

and as he reaches the last page, he looks at the mark in red pen.

100/100.

his jaw drops, and it must have been obvious because you let out a snort.

“what? surprised i’m smarter than you, bakugou?”

and dumbly, he nods.

then he looks up and sees your frown. then he realises he nodded. then mina clears her throat.

“why are you surprised?”

he looks away and gives you your paper back. it’s obvious, really- but he can’t say that. it’s so douche-y… but he has been being a douche.

he dares to look back at you, and when he does, his heart plummets to his feet.

you’re stood with a hand on your hip, brow raised. you’re smart, beautiful and you have an attitude… katsuki stands there trying to piece it together.

you scoff and push the paper to his chest, “keep it. maybe you can learn a thing or two from it, katsuki.”

oh fuck.

he has a crush on you?

#{ short shorts }#{ mcbling baddie }#bnha #bnha x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha imagines #bakugou imagines

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coqhee · 8 days ago

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OVER THE MOON

✷ how enhypen hyung line would propose to you!

day 15 of melodies to memories ― enhypen hyung line︲f reader︲fluff hcs

LEE HEESEUNG

would TOTALLY do it on a special day, eg your birthday, christmas, 1 year after you met

that along with the fact he’d do it somewhere special, like where you first met, where he first fell in love

he def practiced with his friends how he was going to propose and they’d tease him but it’s the sweetest thing ever

you’d laugh at him when he told you later

heeseung would only propose when you’re in your most comfortable clothes since he thinks it’s cuter than going all out

cheesy ass mf is probably singing to you, then proposing cause duh

late-night drive post celebration 10000%

more under the cut!

PARK JONGSEONG

definitely playing something on his guitar like your fav song

its absolutely going to be at a nice restaurant or a nice viewpoint

makes sure you have your nails done and your in the prettiest of pretty dresses for such a special night

makes a sappy speech and starts crying halfway through but composes himself for the photos

jay’s already planning how he’s going to incorporate your engagement at the wedding

probably through taking videos to commemorate the moment

he already knows you’re going to say yes duh

SIM JAEYUN

going ALL OUT i tell you

not one to do it in public, but he’s setting up a cute evening picnic

invites your family and friends to be there for the special moment

you would’ve NEVER seen it coming

the lengths this man went to make sure it was perfect

taking a ziptie at night around your finger to make sure it was the perfect size without you knowing

he feels like a middle school boy all over again awing at your beauty, even more pretty with that engagement ring around your finger

would kiss your finger before sliding the ring on

would brag and call you his future wife wherever you went

PARK SUNGHOON

he tells you to “get dolled up” since you’re going to the gorge to take photos

yeah just photos for your engagement obviously

my man is saying an ESSAY about how perfect you are

would try to keep his composure but end up crying just like jay

you thought it was out of nowhere but NO

this man has had plans to marry you for a whole year and has had the ring stashed away for so long

he’d be nervous fidgeting with the box waiting for the right moment

he’d have to call to get your attention since you were so immersed in the nature you didn’t notice

he’d look up at you with the most sincere look ever smiling ear to ear when you said yes

─── ♡

a/n: happy day 15 of melodies to memories! i have no clue why blr delayed this upload soo im just gonna manually upload it?? all likes, comments and reblogs appreciated <3

melodies to memories tl (open!): @pshwrldd @hhmnya @wonsdoll @lovuegi

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mermaidgirl30 · 11 months ago

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✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Pt 3: October Surprises and Secrets Slurred ✨

dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

-Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

-Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

-Word Count: 13.2k

- Tags: Porn with Plot, dbf! Joel, fingering, oral, face riding, dirty talk, dom! Joel, (reader is 25, Joel is mid 40’s)

- Chapter Summary: Your relationship gets more heated with a lot more intimacy going on between you and Joel, but will you finally get caught?

- A/N: I love this series so much and can’t wait to bring you more filthy scenes between these two 🤭 Sorry not sorry this chapter is so long, it’s worth it 😉 Reblogs are appreciated and I always love seeing your comments ❤️

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

October rushes through Austin as the cool, autumn breeze whisks through your soft curls. The campus is buzzing with focused, anxious students who rush to get last minute papers and assignments in for midterms. You have been diligent and already turned in your law papers, so you’re now free of midterm anxiety, unlike the other students in your classes.

The historic, massive library is filled up with laptops splayed all over tables and empty Starbucks coffee cups that sit next to their cramped hands that struggle to keep writing in notebooks. Sunlight beams through the stained-glass windows as you pass through the library, making your way out into the cold to go find your car somewhere in the mix of all the campus traffic.

As you open the library doors, you get a shot of cold air that blows right through your purple cardigan, and you wrap it around yourself to try to keep the chill from seeping down into your bones. When you cross campus, your mind wonders to Joel and how much you want to see his handsome face right now. The thought of his massive hands cupping your chin and those pretty coffee colored eyes staring down at you make you shiver with anticipation.

Joel, Joel, Joel. He’s always on your mind, never letting a minute pass without him there. You both can’t leave each other alone, not able to go a day without speaking to one another. He always asks if you have plans after school or when your shift gets over at the coffee shop off Main Street. It’s almost like you’re a normal couple. Almost. There’s just that itch behind your ear that’s always buzzing when you’re with him. That loud, annoying ringing in your ears that reminds you that you’re sneaking around your parents, mostly your dad. You honestly have no idea how he would react to the news, so you’d hide it for as long as you could. Your mom might take it lighter, but your dad. He might actually lose it, and you do not want to see that happen.

When you get to your shining Nissan Rouge and hear the click of the unlocked door, you jump in and slam the door shut, throwing your belongings over in the passenger seat. As you put the silver key in the ignition and turn, it barely hums to life and then dies again. The glowing orange check engine light blinks in front of you, and you pound your hands on the sleek steering wheel.

“No, fuck! Please, work for me,” you beg as you turn the key and try again, praying for a miracle. The engine spurts out a pathetic, muffled sound and then magically starts up as the car hums to life once again. “Oh, thank God,” you sigh as you wipe the sweat from your forehead.

Joel. He’d know what to do. You pull out your phone and dial Joel’s number in a hurry, trying to keep your patience as you tap your nails on the black steering wheel. Joel picks up on the third ring.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he drawls into the phone, his voice sounding like thick honey and sinking its way down into the pit of your stomach where warmth spreads.

“Hi, handsome,” you respond, a small smile spreading quickly over your face as the sound of his deep voice automatically soothes you.

“How was school? You get all your essays turned in? I don’t even have to ask, you already did. Didn’t you?” he asks with the sound of a light, raspy laugh on the end of the line.

“Just got them in today, actually,” you smile.

“Look at you gettin’ them in early. Such a smart girl, aren’t ya?” he purrs, making you bite your lip in response to the audible praise.

“Mhm,” you hum, your voice suddenly turning shaky as you look at the glowing engine light that warns you you shouldn’t be driving the car right now. Joel notices your shift in tone and responds with an edge to his voice.

“Everything alright, darlin’?” he asks concerned. It gives you goosebumps the way he’s always so protective, so careful of you.

“Umm-I’m fine, it’s just my car. My check engine light came on just now, and a few minutes ago I couldn’t even get it to start,” you respond back carefully with furrowed brows.

“Oh, shit. That ain’t good. You need a ride home? I can come get you-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “No, no. You’re at work, and my car came back on.”

“Darlin’, I don’t care that I’m at work. I don’t want ya drivin’ if it ain’t safe,” he says with a serious tone. You can tell he’s getting worked up, the way his breath falters and his sighs come out deep and clipped.

“Joel, really. I’m not that far from campus. I can make it home. Promise,” you respond with a more lighthearted response, hoping that Joel will settle with that answer.

“I don’t know if-”

You cut him off again. “Really, it’s fine. I’ll make it home,” you push.

You hear a long sigh and you can visually see him running his thick fingers through his patchy salt and pepper scruff. The vision of it makes warmth spread against your thighs as you squeeze your legs shut tight. “Fine, but I’m lookin’ at your car tomorrow and fixin’ it. S’not safe for you to be drivin’ it with your check engine light on,” he says with a raspy huff.

“Oh, you’re gonna fix it for me?” you ask with a stupid grin planted on your face.

“Mhm, gonna try my damn hardest to,” he replies as he clears his throat.

“And what do I owe you for your services, Mr. Miller?” you ask in a flirtatious voice.

You hear his low chuckle in the receiver, and it makes you giggle in response. “You don’t owe me nothin’, sweetheart. Just wanna make sure you’re safe,” he says with a light laugh. The sound makes your heart pound against your chest. Sweetheart. Safe. The words nearly take you out. He’s such a gentleman.

“Alright,” you say with a giggle. “I guess I’ll let you get back to work,” you sigh, not wanting to hang up on the handsome man that has your heart beating erratically for those gorgeous honey brown eyes.

“You be careful goin’ home, darlin’. Text me as soon as you make it there. I mean it,” he says with a serious, clipped tone.

“I promise,” you say back in a non serious tone.

“Okay. Well, I’ll talk to you later, beautiful. Remember, as soon as you get home,” he reminds you with a knowing tone in his voice.

“You got it. I’ll talk to you later,” you slur into the phone.

“Alright. Bye, gorgeous.” With that he hangs up the phone as you hear the line click dead. You throw your phone in the passenger seat and turn up the radio as Breaking Benjamin blares through the loud speakers. You nod your head to the beat and start to drive off, praying the car gets you there in one piece.

The glowing check engine light stays on the entire drive home, but you make it back safely. You park the car in the hooded garage and turn off the engine, letting it sit idle in the cool room. Whenever you make it through the door, you run straight into your dad as he almost spills his hot coffee all over his pressed white shirt.

“Shit, sorry dad! Didn’t see you there,” you apologize with frantic hands that steady the coffee cup in his hand.

“Careful now, I have a Zoom meeting in five minutes!” he sighs with the hint of agitation in his voice.

“Sorry, dad,” you apologize again.

Before you head to your room, you turn and tell your dad about your messed up car. “Oh, dad, before I forget to tell you. Joel’s coming over tomorrow to take a look at my car. The check engine light came on, and he’s gonna try to fix it for me,” you say lightly.

“Why didn’t you just ask me first? I could’ve taken a look. You sure asked Joel pretty quick there,” he says with his eyebrow raised and the hint of suspicion in there.

You gulp and try not to let your widening eyes give you away. “Oh, uhhh. I just thought you’d be too busy to take a look at it, and you know how good he is with fixing cars,” you shrug innocently.

“And you thought he’d be less busy than me tomorrow?” he asks with the tic of his jaw and wondering eyes staring questionably at you.

Your heart is in your chest and you feel the faint drops of sweat forming on your forehead. “I mean, I just didn’t want to bother you is all. Figured once I told you then you’d just tell me to ask Joel anyways,” you lie with a straight face, keeping your composure together.

He looks at you a few seconds and then nods, face relaxing a little. “Yeah, you’re definitely right, hun. That’s exactly what I would’ve done. Alright, well I need to hop on this call, so I’ll see you later.”

He turns into the direction of his office and you round the corner into the entryway and relax against the wall, breathing out a long sigh of relief. That was close. Too close for comfort.

You head up the stairs and back into your bedroom filled with lilac walls and scents of vanilla and citrus hanging in the air. Apartments. You need to find an apartment and fast.

The air is stuffy and hot in the garage, even though the autumn breeze blows gently outside as it carries red and golden leaves across the driveway. You’re wearing a light blue hoodie and cut off black denim shorts while you sit atop the wooden workbench in your garage. You gently kick your dangling legs off the side of the workbench and stare at the most gorgeous man working on your car. Joel Miller.

You watch the way he picks apart every single wire and car part he can get his hands on. His tousled dark curls sit slicked back against the top of his head by sweat that cakes his forehead, his grey t-shirt bunches around his thick arms every time he flexes and reaches under the hood, and his hands stay covered in grease and dirt from tearing apart your car piece by piece.

You can’t help but gawk at how ridiculously hot he is right now, can’t help the way you bite your lower lip seductively and run your tongue across the bottom of your lip in hopes to get a taste of him. You start to wonder what it’d be like to be bent over the hood of your car while he takes you from the back, start to imagine how good it’d feel to have his thick cock between your slick center as he fucks you senseless into oblivion. Can’t help the burning need in between your thighs as you squeeze your legs together and choke down a moan as slick starts to pool in the center of your lacy underwear.

“You alright there, darlin’?” he asks with concern hinting in his voice as he washes his hands in the garage sink, stepping closer to you as he wipes his hands off on a bunched up rag. “You look a little flushed there,” he says as he steps in front of you, just a few inches from meeting your knees.

“Umm, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little hot, I guess,” you gasp out, nervously panting as your jaw drops open.

He slides up to you and stops right in front of your thighs, locking his knees up with yours as his t-shirt sticks against his broad chest and bulging biceps. You can’t help but stare at him and his pretty brown eyes with flecks of gold that sneak out and catch you unawarely. You want to run your fingers through his messy greying hair, want to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him until you taste every single part of him as you unravel yourself around him.

“Why don’t you close your jaw, sweetheart. Gonna start drooling if you keep it up,” he smirks as he cups your chin and helps you close. You swallow away all the heat and try to calm yourself as he stands before you, but you can’t. He’s too much, too fucking much.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” you say flirtatiously as you bat your long eyelashes at him, feeling your blush paint the edges of your cheeks crimson.

“You gonna tell me what you were thinkin’ about?” he asks with the tic of his jaw, leaning his weight against the bench as his hand gently brushes your hip.

“I was just thinking how hot you looked leaning over the hood of my car. And your messy curls, how I want to run my fingers through them right about now,” you smile as he leans against you, taking his other hand and placing it against the top of your thigh as he gently runs his rough hand down to your knee.

“Oh, yeah? S’that right?” he laughs as he takes his other hand and pushes your thighs apart, stepping in between them as he runs calloused fingers up and down your smooth skin, turning your breaths ragged from the heat of his massive hands on you.

“Mhm,” you choke out, already worked up from his light flirting and the weight of his thick fingers on you.

“What else were ya thinkin’ about, hmmm?” he hums out, his eyes growing darker by the second.

“I was thinking…” you start as you run your fingers through his damp curls, making him groan as your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. “How good it’d feel if you fucked me on the hood of my car,” you purr, whispering into his ear seductively. You feel the bulge in his jeans already starting to form, feel how turned on he’s getting at the thought of you spread wide open for him on the top of your car.

“Christ, baby. Such a dirty girl, aren’t ya? Wantin’ me to fuck you senseless while I make you cum all over my cock. That’s what you want, ain’t it? To make you scream my name while I make you cum again and again and again…”

His voice lowers with a growl as he wraps his hands around your hips and drags you forward, ending right on the edge of the workbench as your legs clench around his back, his hands moving over the denim of your shorts as he snakes a hand up under the material, finding your soaked lace absolutely ruined for him.

You choke out a moan as he dips his fingers under your lace, slowly spreading your folds as his thumb finds your clit and circles you meticulously, stifling another moan out of you as you dig your fingers into his back and wrap your legs tighter around him.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. Always ready for me. Always so needy, ain’t that right?” he smirks as he continues circling you, making your heels dig into his back as you slide a hand through his messy curls and drop your lips to the shell of his ear. Ragged moans leave your lips as he pushes two fingers inside your dripping hole while his thumb continues dancing over your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Feels so good, daddy,” you pant, biting down on his earlobe as you hold in a loud moan while he circles you faster, getting you all worked up over him. You hear the sloshing noises of your wetness and his fingers pumping in and out of you, and it’s so fucking hot that more slick slides down your center as you start to come apart around him. You’re so close, almost there already.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy’s gonna make it all better,” he coos, curling up his fingers inside you as he hits the spongy part of your walls that elicit another moan deep into his ear as your toes curl in your Converse.

“Joellll,” you whine into his ear, dragging your fingers against the curls that sit matted to the back of his neck.

“What is it, baby? Can’t handle daddy’s fingers, huh?” he teases as his lips ghost across yours effortlessly. “Tell daddy what you want,” he smirks, speeding up the shift of his thumb against your aching clit.

“Want you…. oh, God,” you moan as he curls his fingers inside you nice and slow, moving them up further as you latch around him tighter.

“Go on, finish your sentence,” he smirks with clenched teeth as he works you over nice and thoroughly.

“Want you to fuck me,” you whine against the shell of his ear.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Can’t fuck you here, sweetheart. Don’t want your father findin’ you with my cock buried deep in that wet pussy now, do ya?”

You whine out as your breathing becomes hard to control, tattered moans filling his ear like a choir of angels. “No, don’t want that,” you gasp out, your fingers tangled in knots against the back of his soft t-shirt. “I want you though. Want you so fucking bad,” you groan as he continues building slick around his thick fingers.

“Wanna put this hard cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Wanna fuck you so hard over this bench right now that you won’t be able to stand for the rest of the night. Wanna cum inside that drippin’ pussy while you moan my name as I take you from the back,” he growls as he fucks his fingers up inside you deeper, hitting the spongy area again and again as you feel your orgasm about to take flight.

“Want you to moan my name so loud when I make you cum that everyone in the neighborhood knows just who you belong to,” he growls with clenched teeth as he presses down harder on your clit, rubbing it in just the right area that you feel yourself start to spill. You feel the white hot heat start to take over as your eyes roll back and you clench up against his fingers that continuously curl up inside you.

“Joel, I’m… I’m coming,” you moan as you bite down on the scruff of his jaw, feeling your orgasm wash over you as you close your eyes and bite back your moan as you let him have it.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl. So good for me,” he praises as you take a few seconds to come out of your blissed out daze, his fingers gently releasing out of you as he brings them up to his mouth and sucks, staring at you with blown out pupils. Your eyes go wide as you watch him drink down your cum, humming to himself as he licks them clean.

“Taste s’good, darlin’. Can never get enough of you,” he purrs as he pulls your drenched underwear back over your cunt and straightens your shorts out again. You grab the back of his neck and pull him toward you, planting your lips over his as the taste of sweat, black coffee, and you enter your mouth. He wraps his hands around your hips and slithers his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste all of him as his senses envelop you, sweat and all.

Before you can get lost in him anymore, you hear the jostle of the doorknob and the squeaking hinges as the garage door starts to open. Joel jumps back out of your reach and grabs the bottle of synthetic oil off the back of the shelf, drawing his dark eyes away from you as you compose yourself with a quick breath and legs that clash together.

Your dad looks up at you with concerned eyes and purses his lips. “Honey, you feeling okay? Your face is all flushed and your eyes are so wide they look bloodshot.”

Your blood runs cold as you gulp down your nerves and flick your eyes over to Joel, watching as he stares at your idle car as he runs a hand nervously up the back of his neck. “I’m okay, dad. Just got a little too hot is all,” you say as you fan yourself with your hand, trying to get rid of the flush of your crimson cheeks.

“Oh, sorry about that sweetie. Want me to get you a bottle of water?” he asks with a gentle nod your way.

“Yeah. Thanks, dad.”

“Alright, honey. Be back in a minute.” He turns to Joel and slaps him on the back in a way that best friends only do. “How’s the car looking? Figure out what’s wrong?” he asks as he looks around the open hood of the car.

Joel loosens the top of the oil and sets it down beside the front wheel. “Yeah, there seemed to be some loose wires that got tangled around each other. I fixed ‘em. The serpentine belt looks to be pretty worn out, so I can stop at the hardware store tomorrow and get a new one. Should be an easy fix. And the car needs an oil change, so I’ll get that done real quick. Then it should be good to drive smoothly,” he says as he plays with the used towel in his hands.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this, Joel. You sure do take care of my little girl,” he smiles in thanks.

Joel smiles back and chuckles. “Anything for your daughter, George. I always got her back.” He turns your direction and winks at you secretly, making your cheeks turn bright red at the secret meaning behind his words.

“You’re a good man, Joel Miller. Maybe one of these days I can get you to go on a date with one of Claire’s friends. Trust me, some of her friends already drool over you. Should ask one of them out. Could use a woman around the house. Maybe get you laid one of these days,” he teases as he claps a strong hand over Joel’s back.

Joel’s fists clench and his lips twitch at the mention of dating other women. You won’t lie, you feel a heavy weight against your chest and the tinge of jealousy runs hot down your throat. Joel would do no such thing. Mine.

“Nah, man. Thanks for the offer though. I’m good,” he responds. A breath you had been holding blows out, the wave of jealousy washing away as soon as he says the words.

“You sure? Wouldn’t hurt to at least have a night in with one of them. How long has it been, huh?”

“Dad!” you say forcefully, making both of them look your direction as you dig your nails into the wood, jaw locked into place. “Water?” you ask as you raise your eyebrows.

“Right, sorry. Be back in a minute.” With that he races back inside and slams the door shut.

“So, my dad’s trying to hook you up with one of my mom’s friends?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, mostly joking around with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. Already have my best girl right here,” he nods your way, curling his lips into a crooked smile. You can’t help but smile back at him and melt at his words. My best girl.

“That’s right. I’m your girl,” you say possessively.

“Damn straight you are,” he smirks, making butterflies flit through your stomach.

Your dad comes back with a cold bottle of water and leaves the two of you alone again, closing the door to go answer a phone call. As you let the fresh water quench your thirst, you watch Joel meander his way under your car, taking his time to change your oil out. You watch his soft t-shirt lift up just a tad, exposing thick dark hair that trails underneath the waistband of his jeans.

It takes everything in you not to go over and straddle him as he works, slipping your hand underneath his jeans as you pull his hard cock out and go down on him, taking him in your mouth nice and slow as you make his ropes of cum slide down the back of your throat. You hold back the temptation, knowing you can’t do that here. Not when your dad’s lurking around the corner of the house.

You sigh and watch him work, making light conversation with him as he puts the cap back on and crawls out from underneath the car. Grease stains his grey t-shirt, and he has a smudge of grease across his nose.

“Joel, come here. You’re a mess,” you giggle as you grab a towel from the metal shelf and jump down off the workbench, going over to stand in front of him. You wipe off the grease from his nose and wipe off his hands next, making sure you get off as much as you can.

“Baby, I could’ve done that,” he smiles as he grabs the towel from you, wiping off what he can from his ruined shirt.

“It’s fine, I wanted to help,” you shrug.

He looks at the grease stain on his finger for a second then back up at you, mischief written all over those hazy brown eyes.

You back up against the wall and raise an eyebrow. “What are you planning, Miller?” you ask suspiciously, holding in a laugh as you see the playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Me, planning? Never,” he scoffs, the smirk planting firmly against the corners of his mouth. In a flash he cages you against the wall with his thick arms and smears some grease on your jawline. Your eyes go wide as he does it.

“Joel!” you whine as you push against his chest playfully. “That’s not funny,” you say as a giddy laugh escapes your throat.

“It ain’t funny, huh? Then why are you laughing?” he asks as a deep chuckle ruptures from his chest.

“Get it off, now,” you demand playfully as you try to grab the used tan towel from him. He grabs it back from you.

“I got it, I got it,” he laughs as he uses the pristine end of the towel to clean off the grease from your jawline. When he promises he got it, he throws the towel up on the workbench as you reel him in for a kiss. His lips are soft, plush, and they taste like Joel.

“Oh, that reminds me. I got somethin’ for ya,” he says as he breaks the kiss, digging around the back pocket of his dark faded jeans.

“You got me something?” you ask with a surprised lilt to your voice.

“Mhm,” he hums as he grabs his leather wallet and opens it up, digging around to find what he’s looking for.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask curiously, watching him dig around excitedly as his thick fingers push around old receipts and folded up papers.

“Don’t have to be an occasion to get ya somethin’, darlin’,” he chuckles. “But this is kind of an early birthday present, since your birthday’s next month.” He finally finds what he’s looking for and pulls out two tickets that have a matte gloss covering both sides. You flip them over and your eyes go wide at what the tickets say. Two general admission tickets to see Ghost at the Moody Center on November fourteenth sit carefully in your hands. You gulp back tears as you stand frozen in awe as you stare at the glossy tickets.

“Joel…” you gasp out, your eyes probably as wide as an owl right now.

“Thought you’d like ‘em. I know how much you’ve wanted to see ‘em for a long time. Took me a while to find out when they were gonna come to town, so I jumped at the chance when I saw ‘em post new tour dates. And Breaking Benjamin is gonna be their opener. I know how much you like them too and…”

You jump into his arms and wrap your hands around his neck as you thank him over and over again for the best gift ever. You grab his shirt and pull him in for a long kiss as you run your hands through his tousled curls. When you break the kiss, you stand back to look at him in his pretty face as your arms stay wrapped around his neck.

“You’re gonna take me to go see Ghost?” you ask sweetly with big eyes that water faintly.

“I’m gonna take ya to see Ghost,” he nods with a crooked smile as he looks down at you with brown doe eyes that you want to sink right into as they swallow you whole.

You pull him in for another long hug as his strong arms wrap around your waist. “You’re the sweetest, Joel,” you say as you plant your lips on his cheek, staying in his embrace for as long as you can.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles as he cups your chin, bringing his lips down on yours again. When he pulls back, he keeps his calloused thumb trailing against your jawline, making you dizzy with lovesick thoughts.

“Hey, what’re you doin’ for Halloween?” he asks as he keeps his coffee eyes focused on you, his thumb trailing light circles across your cheekbone.

“I didn’t really have any plans. Sometimes my friends will drag me out to the bars or we’ll find a Halloween party to go to. How come?” you ask, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“Umm well, you wanna come over to my place? We could watch some scary movies, make some popcorn, order a pizza. I know how much you like those classic horror movies. Would be nice to have some company,” he smiles shyly as the corners of his mouth rise up into a crooked grin. He’s perfect, so perfect.

“Joel Miller asking me to watch scary movies? You don’t even really like them,” you laugh as you hang around his neck, his left hand digging deeper into the side of your hip.

“Yeah, well. You rub off on me a lot. And besides, anything to make my girl happy. I jus’ like spending time with you is all, darlin’,” he drawls, his eyes glistening with flecks of light and dark brown mixing together to make a pretty coffee color. His crooked smile makes a dimple press against his cheek, and the lines against his eyes crinkle into complete warmth that fills the hard lines in his face. You think he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen in your life. Because he is.

“Joel… you leave me speechless. Truly. I’m so, so lucky to have you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” you gush to him as you rest your forehead against his.

“No, darlin’. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

You stifle out a laugh and bring your lips down slowly over his, this kiss more slow and romantic than all the other ones. Who would’ve thought you and Joel Miller would’ve ever been a thing? But here you are. Completely and utterly wrapped up in each other, and you just can’t get enough.

You hear the jiggle of the door handle and see the door opening fast into the garage. You jump out of Joel’s grasp and take a few steps back, separating the distance between him even though it’s getting harder to act like the two of you aren’t completely crazy for each other. You’re out of breath, still dizzy from all the emotions of the last few minutes with Joel. And he looks the same, pupils dilated and a flushed face as he looks up at your father.

Your father stops and puts on his glasses to take a closer look. “Joel, you feeling okay? Your face is flushed too. You good?” he asks as he hands Joel a water.

“Yeah. Just got up too fast from under the car. Should be fine,” he nods as he flicks his eyes over to you, the look of affection returning to his brown doe eyes you can’t get enough of.

“Alright, well dinner’s ready if you wanna stay. She made chicken enchiladas tonight, so pretty sure you’ll wanna stay,” he laughs.

“Sure, wouldn’t miss those,” Joel nods as your dad smiles back at him.

“Well, come on. Come and get it while it’s hot.” Your dad turns toward the door and goes through, leaving it open for you and Joel to follow.

Joel takes your hand in his discreetly and leads you through, rubbing the pad of his calloused thumb against the back of your hand, making you feel all tingly and giddy inside. Before he drops your hand, he brushes your knuckles with his lips and places a slow kiss against the back of your hand. You blush on the spot and smile up at him as he returns one back, and then he drops your hand as he walks into the light of the dining room.

Fuck. You have it bad for Joel Miller and you’re falling fast. Very fast.

Halloween Night

You spend the entirety of the afternoon getting ready for your night in with Joel. You shower, douse yourself in Victoria’s Secret Bombshell perfume, and pick out the perfect Halloween costume to wear. You go with a short black mini dress that barely grazes your thighs, the long sleeves hanging off your shoulder that leave your neck and the tops of your shoulders exposed to the cool air.

You carefully fix your hair into loose spiral curls and secure a long pink bow in the back of your silky hair. You apply shimmery pink eyeshadow to the hoods of your eyelids, draw perfect cat eyes with liquid eyeliner, and purse your lips after applying the shiny pink lip gloss. After slipping on a pair of black heels, you look at yourself in the full length mirror and grab the pair of fuzzy black cat ears as you top off your costume. Joel’s going to lose his mind when he sees you in this getup.

After nervously driving over to his house, you now stand on the front of his porch and wait for him to come open the door after you ring the doorbell. You pull on your sleeves, your legs shaking as the cold evening wind hits your bare legs. After a few seconds he opens the door and pulls it back.

“Hey, sweetheart. You…” His voice cuts off as his brown eyes go wide as he lets out a low whistle, slowly taking in your figure from head to toe.

You twirl around slowly for him, letting him see all of you and watch him fall apart. “Trick r treat,” you smirk. “Gonna give me something sweet to eat?” you purr, batting your dark lashes up at him sweetly.

You hear him curse quietly under his breath and watch him rake his hand slowly over his patchy beard. “Goddamn, darlin’. Such a pretty little kitty cat. And that dress, fuck,” he bites out as he gazes his dark eyes over your long legs. “Prettiest girl that ever stood in my doorway, that’s for sure. C’mere,” he calls as he grabs your waist and pulls you into his broad chest, pressing his lips against yours as you chase the taste of his black coffee scent you so desperately love.

When you pull away you click your tongue at him. “Thought you were supposed to have a costume on today?” you say with a raised brow, playfully pushing at his chest.

“This is my costume,” he replies with an amused expression on his face.

Your eyes trail down him slowly. He wears a Halloween black t-shirt, an open red flannel, and dark blue jeans that form against his muscular thighs. You shake your head and pull off your cat ears, placing them over his tousled dark curls as you position it to balance on his head perfectly.

You laugh as you take in the big, strong man with the fluffy cat ears on. “There. Now you have a costume on,” you giggle as he just shakes his head and pulls you inside while he shuts the door behind him.

“Funny, very funny,” he chuckles, a dimple forming against his cheek which makes you only melt more for him. “Wanna take ‘em back now?”

“Nope,” you shake your head, holding a laugh in as you watch him examine his face in the mirror, sighing as he takes in the fuzzy ears atop his head.

“I look ridiculous,” he groans, crossing his arms over his chest as his biceps pull at the red flannel, making you anxious to curl up against them on the couch.

“No, you’re adorable,” you respond, lingering your hand against his soft t-shirt as you curl your hand around it.

“Don’t think so, darlin’. That’s all you. You gorgeous girl,” he says with a low drawl, his caramel eyes honing in as he backs you up against the wooden staircase, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. Before he leans in, the front door twists open and he pulls away from you in a hurry, putting as much distance between the two of you before Sarah walks in.

Your eyes grow wide as you weren’t expecting her to be here tonight. Sarah gasps as her eyes flick from you to Joel, clearly confused on what’s going on. Her long curls fall over her shoulders as she stands in a Cowboys jersey and black yoga pants with war paint smeared across her cheeks.

She says your name with questions ringing in her tone. “What are you doing here? On Halloween? Shouldn’t you be at a party or something?” she asks as she looks over your outfit carefully, her eyes going over to Joel as she takes in the cat ears that sit perched atop his head.

“Uh dad, why are you wearing those?” she asks as a giggle sounds loudly across the lit up hall.

He throws the ears off and hands them back to you, running a hand through his messy curls as he works to stay composed. “Don’t worry about it,” he says defensively. “And she came over so I could work on her car,” he confirms.

“But you just fixed her car a few days ago?” she says with raised brows, her eyes flicking back and forth between you and him.

“Uhhh yeah. But the light came back on this morning, so I brought it over. Joel said he could take a look real quick. I was just about to head back out. Shouldn’t take too long,” you say with a calm, collected demeanor, giving nothing away.

She eyes you both suspiciously and finally nods. “Okay then. Whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “But anyways, look at you! That outfit is so hot, my dad would never let me wear anything like that,” she pouts, crossing her arms over the orange jersey as it scrunches up underneath her.

“Maybe when you’re thirty,” he teases. She just shakes her head and sticks her tongue out at him. He chuckles out a deep laugh in response.

“Whateverrrrr,” she drawls out. She turns back to you and beams her pearly white smile as her curls bounce up and down as she moves. “Bet you’ve got all the boys wrapped around your finger in that outfit,” she smirks out. Joel’s eyes grow a shade darker as he focuses on you, trying his best not to say a word in response.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Maybe just one,” you smirk, your eyes flicking over to his brown irises as you face Sarah again, careful not to give anything away.

“Oooooo you have a boyfriend? Why haven’t I met him? Is he cute? Is he a good kisser?!” she yells excitedly as she hounds you for information.

“Sarah!” Joel warns, telling her to calm down as his eyes narrow over her.

“Sorry,” she whines, giving you a small smile as you return one to her.

“What are you doin’ back here? Thought you were goin’ to your friend’s to go trick r treatin’?” he asks with raised brows, hands on his hips as his jaw clenches up.

“I am. Just forgot to grab my purse,” she says as she reaches around you and grabs her purple over the shoulder purse and heads back to the door. “Alright, heading back out. Guess I’ll see you sometime soon?” she asks as she looks over at you behind her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will,” you nod her way, waving a quick goodbye to her.

“Sarah?” Joel calls before she heads out the door.

“Yeah?” she asks before closing the door.

“Not too late, alright?” Joel says with his brows furrowed together.

“Yeah, be back before midnight,” she promises.

“Sarah?” he calls out again, making her groan at the name.

“Huh?”

“Love you,” he says softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his face relaxes into happiness.

She smiles gently and nods. “Love you too, dad.” With that she closes the door and runs off to the burgundy Cadillac that awaits her out front.

You can’t help but smile at Joel, butterflies flitting through your stomach as you take in his soft side. He’s always so careful and gentle with Sarah, always telling her how much he loves her. He’s such a softie, and you can’t help but fall for him even more as you watch him.

“What?” he asks as he snakes his arms around your waist, backing you up against the stairwell again.

“You’re such a softie,” you smile as you wrap your arms around his neck while you run your fingers through the scruff on his neck.

“Only for Sarah and you,” he grins, dropping his lips down to yours as you drink him in again, feeling every surface of his plush lips against yours.

He breaks the kiss after a few seconds and pulls you into the living room. “C’mon. I’ll get the movie started then I’ll call in a pizza for us. Pepperoni?” he asks as he leads you over to the cream colored couch and sits you down against the soft cushions.

“Pepperoni,” you nod. He turns on the tv and pulls his phone out, heading into the kitchen as he calls Pizza Hut and places an order to be delivered to the house.

You take in your surroundings of the darkened room. Vanilla candles sit sprawled against the glass coffee table, the large display of the tv glows in the near distance as the menu comes up for the movie Scream. You hear Joel in the other room hang up the phone as he places it down on the counter.

“You want some popcorn, baby?” he asks from the other room, his voice carrying into the living room like a song you want to put on repeat.

“Mhm and a Dr. Pepper, please,” you call back.

“I gotcha, baby. Be right there.”

When the popcorn is done popping and the cans of soda are taken out of the fridge, he joins you on the couch and places one hand on your thigh as the other one presses play on the remote, making the movie hum to life as the beginning titles show across the lit up screen.

You take a sip of Dr. Pepper and pop some popcorn into your mouth as the buttery taste slides down your throat conveniently. You curl your legs onto the couch and fold yourself against Joel, letting your arms wrap around him as his arm flexes behind you. He pulls you tight to his side as his hand runs gently up and down your arm, causing your body to fully relax against him as you breathe in his cologne and woodsy scent. He smells like a piece of heaven, your piece of heaven.

He takes a drink of his Dr. Pepper and places it on the coffee table, leaning back into you as he adjusts himself into the back of the cushions and lays a soft kiss against the top of your head, making you melt beneath him.

When the scene of Ghostface asking Casey what her favorite scary movie is comes up, Joel mimics his voice and asks you the same thing in a more southern, non scary tone. “What’s your favorite scary movie?” he asks mysteriously as you giggle into his chest.

“You should know this one,” you answer back, eyes flicking up to his as he looks you over carefully before responding.

“Halloween,” he answers automatically.

“Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner,” you yell out, pulling a laugh from deep within his chest as you hear it rumble against your ear.

“Knew it,” he says proudly. “And what’s mine?”

You lay your head in his lap and look up at him, deep brown eyes staring down at you as he awaits your answer. He’s so pretty that it physically hurts. “Joel, The Lord of the Rings does not count as a scary movie,” you laugh out as he smiles down at you.

“Sure it does. It has spiders, orcs, dark themes.”

You push his chest playfully. “It’s fantasy. This is a scary movie,” you remark as you point to the tv, watching Ghostface chase his victim across the yard.

“Yeah, well. Still,” he vocalizes with a sigh. “Would you watch all of ‘em with me?” he asks faintly, his chocolate eyes glazing down to yours.

You turn to him and nod. “Of course I would. I’d watch amything with you,” you reply with a smile.

The corners of his lips curl up into a soft smile and he leans down and kisses you without holding back at all. He tangles his fingers in your curls and you open your mouth up, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth as he finds your tongue, dancing around as you drink down the taste of him slowly, passionately.

One hand slides down to your thigh as he grazes calloused fingers up and down your inner thigh, making you breathe heavier as he bites at your lower lip, heating up the room as the two of you start to get lost in each other. His hand reaches up, up, gently sliding the edge of your dress up your thigh, working his way nice and slow to where he wants to be. To your aching center that yearns for his touch.

Before he can make it any further, the doorbell rings, forcing the two of you apart as you lift up off his lap. He sighs as he pushes off the couch, muttering something under his breath that sounds like a complaint of interrupting him when he was busy with you. You giggle at his ramblings and wait till he comes back.

You hear the exchange of pizza and money and can smell the fresh cheese and pepperoni that wafts through the air of the dark living room. After another minute, Joel comes in and sets the pizza on the coffee table, telling you to eat up. You grab a slice and take a bite, letting the warm goodness fill your stomach as you set your eyes on the movie again, trying to keep focus on that instead of the handsome menace of a man that sits next to you.

“So, what’s so attractive about a killer that wears a mask? I don’t get it. With all the viral videos of masked men goin’ around, I don’t get the fuss. I even catch Sarah’s friends talking ‘bout it sometimes.” Joel shakes his head and takes another bite out of his pepperoni slice.

You giggle in response. “I don’t know. Guess that’s kind of a part of the dark romance culture now and can be kinda thrilling? A masked man in the bedroom. I mean, I get why they like it. It’s just something new and intriguing, a little dangerous, exciting even…” You stop there, not wanting to give away that you too might have a mask kink.

“Oh, is that right?” Joel smirks deviously, one of his eyebrows rising higher as he looks directly at you. “You into that shit, too?” he asks curiously as he takes his last bite, lapping his tongue along his lower lip and wiping away the last evidence of red sauce from his mouth. You try your best not to bite your lip, wanting to lick every single scrap of sauce off him slowly.

“I mean, I get the hype. Guess it would be kind of hot,” you blush, looking down at your lap to hide the crimson of your cheeks.

“I knew it,” he says as he claps a big hand on his thigh in knowing. “So you’re saying if I ever bought one of those dumb masks, you’d want me to wear it in the bedroom?” he asks as his eyebrows go up curiously while his hand digs into the back of the couch forcefully.

“I think I’d just prefer to see your handsome face, Joel. Besides, I don’t see you doing that anyways,” you laugh and hit him playfully in the shoulder.

“You’re right, darlin’. Don’t think I’d do that either,” he chuckles.

“But,” you lean into his chest and press your glossy lips to the shell of his ear seductively. “Think I’d let you put me in some handcuffs though,” you purr out as you tug on his earlobe and pull back with a sly smirk on your face.

You see the way his pupils expand and the way his chest rises and falls deeper as the blood flows thicker in the veins of his neck. You see the way he adjusts himself on the couch and clears his raspy throat. You started something, and now he’ll have to finish it.

You smile to yourself triumphantly and turn to face the tv, scooting up to the edge as you reach for your Dr. Pepper and take a refreshing sip, setting it back down on the glass coffee table when you’re done.

You hear Joel’s voice come out raspy and deep behind you. “Is that right, sweetheart? You’d let me handcuff those pretty wrists to my headboard?”

You squirm on the edge of the couch and press your legs together, feeling the heat start in your center like a volcano that’s about to rupture. “Mhmm,” you hum out carefully, trying to suppress a moan from coming out of your throat.

“Hmmm.” He leans over and presses his lips against the shell of your ear, his hot breath breathing down your neck and making you feel things you can’t control. “Think I need to go buy a pair of handcuffs then, sweetheart. Show you all the ways I can make you cum while you’re tied to my bed. What do ya think of that, huh? Sounds… erotic as hell,” he whispers darkly in your ear, leaving you panting for more as you keep your eyes focused on the movie on the big screen, watching Ghostface run down the stairs after his next victim mercilessly. He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek and scoots back into the couch, leaving you breathless and wanting.

Just when you think he’s done teasing you, he starts playing with your pink ribbon and runs his hands through your long waves, making your heartbeat gallop like the hooves of a racing Clydesdale against his touch.

“Such a pretty pink ribbon in your hair, baby,” he teases, starting to tug on your hair harder now as he pulls lightly on the curls.

“Mhm, it is,” you reply with a breath held.

“You know I love when you do your hair like this, in these curls. So long and soft to the touch. Can easily do this.” He tugs your head back and pushes you down into the couch. Your hands grip the side of the couch while your ass is up in the air, exposing all for Joel to see.

You feel his hands raise your skirt up to your hips, exposing the meaty flesh of your ass as you feel the cool air brush against the backs of your bare thighs. You hear Joel hum out in approval as he fixes his massive hands over your ass, one hand trailing down as his fingers brush the soaked material of your lace which makes a groan escape your lips.

“White lace, huh? Looks s’good on you, sweetheart. Already so wet for me, ain’t ya? Look at you drip, so fuckin’ wet, baby. Goddamn,” he whistles as he takes his thumb and trails a long line down your center, gathering more slick against the material. You whine out and he chuckles lightly.

“S’right, baby. Gonna make you really whine in a minute,” he murmurs as he slides the wet lace down your legs, gently unclasping your black heels and dropping them to the floor as he unhooks the lace from around your ankles and disposes them on the ground, leaving you completely bare for him to look at.

He slides his calloused thumb over your wetness, and you shiver with need. “Joel, please,” you beg, another whine purring out of you as you feel the pad of his thumb ghost across your clit, leaving you with a pent up cry in your chest.

“What do ya need, baby? Tell me,” he asks, barely touching your folds with the tops of his fingertips which makes you clench up over nothing.

“Need your fingers, your mouth,” you beg, your voice high-pitched from want. With need.

“That so, darlin’?” he teases as he spreads your folds with the tips of his index and middle finger, sliding them up until you can feel them pressed against your clit, drawing slow, meticulous circles as you hear the wetness gathering on his fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan as you dig your fingers into the side of the couch, clawing your light pink fingernails as a way to get ahold of yourself before you’re lost into a sea of lust.

“S’right, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need,” he coos.

Before he takes it any further, he drops his hand from your center and lays back against the couch, leaving you out of breath and waiting. “Why’d you stop?” you whine as you turn in the direction he’s in and see him smirking up at you with trouble written all over his face.

“C’mere,” he calls as he curls his index finger in his direction, beckoning you to come over to him.

You look questionably at him and raise a brow. “What?” you ask as you slowly scoot your legs over his, dropping down on his hips carefully.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Not there, sweetheart. Up here,” he smirks as he points to his face. Your eyes go wide at the meaning.

“You want me to…” you trail off, unable to finish your sentence.

“S’right. Want you to sit on my face. C’mon now,” he smirks, a devilish grin taking over his face as his eyes grow dark. He places his hands on your hips as he slides you up his broad chest, stopping just before you get to his neck. You pause right there, blushing as all of a sudden you get extremely nervous.

“Joel…” you choke out, unable to finish your sentence.

“Don’t be shy, baby,” he says gently, lifting your dress above your hips as it exposes your bareness for him. He drags his eyes down your center and licks his lips, his eyes blown out as you feel his breath pick up beneath his chest. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. Drippin’ and screamin’ my name,” he groans as his eyes devour you in full. “C’mon now. Sit on my face,” he demands.

You gulp and scoot your hips up, hovering just above his mouth as you stay there, nervous and turned on at the same time.

“I didn’t say hover, sweetheart. I said sit,” he demands, digging his hands into your hips as he tries to lower you down, but you hold back, afraid to crush him.

“But won’t I crush you?” you ask with your breath caught in your throat.

“The only thing that’s gonna crush me is if you don’t sit the fuck down and ride on my face. Now sit!” he growls as he forces your weight down on top of him, the curls above your mound sitting atop his curved nose as he breathes you in deeply.

He inhales your savoury scent and drags his rough tongue all the way from your dripping hole to the tops of your folds, catching the end of your clit as you whine out with need.

“Goddamn, baby. Taste and smell s’good, darlin’. Hold on tight. Not gonna stop till I make you cum all over my face, not gonna stop till you moan my name, not gonna stop till you’re all mine,” he growls as he hooks his arms around your thighs and dives back in.

He slowly drags his tongue over all of you, slotting himself between your folds and lapping meticulous circles around your puffy clit. You feel more slick spill out of you and feel him take your bundle of nerves into his mouth, sucking and slurping as every single nerve ending comes alive against his mouth. When he releases, he shoves his tongue into your wet hole, plunging into your core as you vibrate and fall apart against him.

You twist your fingers into his tousled curls and moan his name with a lull, lost in complete bliss as he works his tongue up and down up and down, making the room foggy with the smell of your arousal and the loud moans you’re giving him. “Joellll, fuck,” you moan as you pull at his hair, sliding yourself up and down his mouth as you ride his face exactly like he wants you to.

He groans at your movements, groans at the way you tug on his curls as his tongue works and works to make you fall apart around him. He slaps your ass hard and digs his nails into your thighs as he speeds up his hot tongue.

He’s pulling, sucking, munching at your clit as you feel the building orgasm. You feel it start in your spine, sliding down to rest in the pit of your stomach as you’re almost there, feel it about to take flight as your toes curl and your fingers slip deeper into his wild locks. He knows you’re close, knows exactly what he’s doing. He can’t speak, too far gone in pleasuring you with his mouth, too deep with sucking your throbbing bundle of nerves again and again as his nail beds prod into your flesh.

He loves to feel you come apart, loves to taste your arousal drip down his throat, loves to hear you moan and thrive while you’re about to come undone, and loves when you pull his hair and moan his name while he has his way with you.

You grind your pussy against his mouth, feel how soaked you’re getting him, and it just makes you that much closer to spilling yourself all over him. You feel him groan against your folds, hear him practically whisper the words into your ear as he licks and sucks you repeatedly into his drooling mouth.

Atta girl. There ya go.

Say my name, sweetheart.

C’mon. Give it to me. That’s a good fuckin’ girl.

He pulls your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks hard, setting off every single nerve ending in your body. He sucks nice and slow and you feel yourself fall apart right there on his hot tongue. You roll your hips and feel the heat slide down your body as you clench over nothing and spill yourself all over his mouth, hearing his groan as he laps up all your slick while you fist his hair roughly through your fingers.

You take a minute to let your panting die out and wait for your body to come back down to earth after your intense face riding orgasm. When you slide back to rest on his chest, you see just how drenched and glistening his mouth and beard are from all your slick and cum. And fuck is it hot.

He smiles up at you as he catches his breath, his blown out pupils relaxing into pure brown warmth as he watches you with admiration on his face. It’s probably the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“Rode me s’good, baby. Love the taste of you,” he hums, his crows feet crinkling up at the corners of his eyes as you get lost in those pools of warm honey.

“Yeah, well, I have an excellent instructor with an experienced tongue,” you purr, winking down at him with a big smile pulling at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles and responds, “Always happy to put my tongue to good use. Especially for you.”

You bite your lower lip and grin down at him, completely entranced by him. You’re so lucky, so fucking lucky. The luckiest girl in the world.

You shift off him and start to turn the other way as you move your legs away from his chest. Before you can crawl to the other side of the couch, he grabs your calves and pulls you back toward him. “Now where do you think you’re goin’, sweetheart?” he asks with an edge to his voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you ask as his large hands wrap around your ankles, pulling you back up to him as he tangles you around the roots of him, firmly planting you to his chest.

“M’not done with you yet, baby girl. You’re gonna give me another one,” he purrs, his deep voice thundering out of his chest like a bear ready to attack.

“Another one? But I’m… I’m so sensitive and…”

He shuts you up quick. “No, you’re not too sensitive. I know what you can handle, and you’re gonna fuckin’ take it like the good girl I know you are,” he growls as he drags you back up to him, hovering just over the edge of his mouth as you feel his hot breath connect with your wetness that’s already dripping for him again.

Fuck.

He wraps his strong arms around your hips and tugs you down where your folds are connecting with his plush lips, and the feeling is already overwhelming. But you need it, need him. You suck in a breath as he licks a long stripe up the entirety of you and you moan out for more.

“Need you so bad, daddy. Please,” you beg, digging your hands into the thighs of his dark jeans as your nails embed in him.

“I’m gonna give it to ya, sweetheart. Daddy’s gonna lick every inch of that pretty pussy,” he purrs as he licks another stripe up your folds, spreading you out to devour your needy clit.

You groan out and dig into his jeans, needing something to latch onto. When you open your eyes and look down, you see his bulge pressed against the thick fabric of his jeans, begging to be released.

You take your hand and grab around his thickness, working him through the denim of his pants. You hear him groan under your touch and bite your lip at the idea that dances through your mind. You’re going to sixty-nine with him. This is what’s going to send you over the edge.

You carefully unzip his zipper and free his bulging erection, taking him in your hand as you see the precum release from his slit and lap over the edges of his tip, working your hand nice and slow over him to spread the precum over his entirety.

His skin’s soft in your hand as you slide it back and forth over his large length, feeling the thick veins that spider around him that end just underneath the tip of his head. His head is red and swollen and screaming for you to taste him, and you’re happy to oblige.

Just as you meet your lips at his head and slide your tongue across his drenched tip, he shutters underneath you and lifts your hips just enough to speak as you feel the salty precum slide down your throat all hot and bubbly like.

“Fuck, baby. What’re you doin’?” he says with clenched teeth as you squeeze his cock, gliding your hand up and down his shaft as you turn to face him, smirking down at him with a devilish grin forming on your lips.

“What do you mean what am I doing? Isn’t it obvious? We’re sixty-nining,” you purr, licking your lower lip as you watch his pupils blow out into big black pits.

“Sixty-nine, is that right? You’re a dirty girl, kitty cat,” he smirks as he takes his index and middle fingers and pushes them inside you nice and slow, curling his fingers up to hit that spongy soft spot that makes you clench up against him and moan out slowly.

“That’s right, right there. That feel good?” he asks as you bite your lip and nod at him, choking out another moan as he curls his fingers higher, setting a wildlife throughout your entire core.

“Yes, daddy. Feels incredible,” you groan as you rock against his fingers, letting your own hand twist up and down his hard, wet length in your hand. You want to taste him, now.

“Fuckin’ sixty-nine. And with the prettiest girl in the world? Shit, baby. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger like that pretty pink bow in your hair,” he says with a gentle laugh that sounds a little like unbelief in his voice.

You giggle out a laugh as you stare at him as he smiles up at you between your legs. “Got you wrapped around my finger, do I?”

“Mhm, that’s right, sweetheart. All mine,” he says with a crooked grin curling up over his lips, sending your heart into overdrive.

“All yours,” you confirm with a soft smile.

He takes a minute to look at you, warm eyes focused on your face softly. Then his eyes shift into something dark and carnal as he brings you back down to his mouth.

“Well, go on, darlin’. I’ll take care of this needy pussy while you show me how good you can suck my cock,” he smirks, letting his fingers release from you as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on him again. You choke out a moan as his tongue presses deep into your folds and up your dripping hole.

You focus back on his hard cock in front of you and go back down, circling his head as you lap up his salty precum and then dive down on him, taking his long length in your mouth as your hand slides up and down him slowly, savouring his taste on your tongue.

You take him as far in your mouth as you can, making sure you hit the back of your throat and choke on him while tears spill down your face as you take him deep in your throat over and over again.

You hear his moans fill the room as his tongue circles your clit, hearing your own moans get washed out by the sound of you gagging on his thick cock as your spit drips down his length and into the coarse hairs that cover his base.

The wet, sticky, messy sounds of Joel eating you out and the gagging sounds of you deep throating his massive cock again and again mix together, forming a wet, harmonious melody that reverberates off each other. It causes more slick to slide down your center as he licks and sucks and pulls on your needy clit. It’s too much, too fucking hot. This is the best, most intimate thing you’ve ever done. But you have a feeling this won’t be the end of it because he’ll want more, you’ll want more. It’s only going to get hotter, more primal, more possessive as you continue.

Joel Miller may be a fucking menace, but you’re no better. You’re a temptress spinning your web as you trap him, seducing him to you, pulling him and making him yours. Both of you wrapping each other into a complete tangle until both of you are completely, irrevocably bound to one another. Just like a moth to a flame, you’re pulled to him as he is to you. Two hearts beating wildly for the other just the same.

The room is hot and sticky as both of you get lost in each other’s ecstasy. Moans echoing off the walls as you both are close to orgasm, both so fucking high off each other that you never want to come down. You just want to stay where your bodies are panting in sweat as you continuously get lost in each other’s bliss and euphoria. You’ve never experienced a high quite like this before. Never experienced anything ever like this. It’s just you and Joel, two bodies completely consumed in the other with no plans of ever slipping away from each other. It’s just Joel.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

You start to clench up, feel your walls fluttering as they’re about to spill, feel the way he sucks your clit into his giving mouth as his tongue travels up the entirety of you, covering you in his own spit and drool. And it’s so fucking hot.

“C’mon, baby girl. Give it to me. Cum for me. Wanna feel it,” he groans as he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks hard. And that’s when you come apart for him, that’s when you feel yourself let go.

You release your lips from his cock and feel a string of drool fall from your lips and attach to the tip of his head, thinking of nothing as you throw back your head back and moan his name as it echoes across the room. “Joellllll, fuck,” you moan as you release white hot liquid all over his mouth. He’s greedy and takes it all, licking you clean as you hear his mouth drink you up, leaving nothing behind.

You rub up and down his cock faster, feeling him stiffen underneath you as his breath goes shallow. Ragged moans leave his chest as he grips your thighs tight and moans out your name slowly.

“Oh fuck, oh shit,” he slurs as you lap at his tip, teasing him before you take him again.

“That’s it, daddy. Go on and cum for me. Wanna take you all in my mouth,” you purr as you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing up and down as you deep throat him, hearing the gagging noises that send him over the edge. He’s right there, just on the edge. You go down again and hold your mouth there as you take him deep, feeling your throat constrict around his thick cock.

“Baby, m’gonna… gonna cum… oh, fuck,” he moans as you feel thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat, swallowing his large load down as the salty, delicious taste dances down your tastebuds.

You work over his length nice and slow, not stopping till he’s finished cumming. And just when you think he’s done, he surprises you and pours out more inside your mouth.

You see his hand shoot to his sweaty forehead as he grabs at his messy curls, see his eyes roll back as he moans your name again and again. It sounds like music to your ears, something angelic and addictive sinking into your soul at just the sound of him cumming. It’s your sanctuary, your favorite tune in the world. And you’d never get enough of it, never.

When he’s finished sending his spend down your throat, you slowly release your mouth from him as drool cakes your chin. His cock is so messy with spit and drool that you blush at the job you just did on him.

You feel his chest heave up and down underneath you, his breathing gradually slowing down little by little. You take a second to catch your own breath, gulping down breaths of fresh air that smells like him. There’s something beautiful in the rhythm of both of your breaths in sync. It’s almost like you share the same heartbeat, something so intimate about it that you can’t even shake the euphoric feeling. It’s the best thing you’ve ever experienced. He’s the best thing. Joel is.

After a few minutes he helps you sit up as he pulls his briefs and jeans back up over his softening cock. When he sits up, he grabs your lace panties from the floor and pulls them up over your legs, securing them back into place over your overstimulated pussy. He pulls down your dress over your thighs and lays back down against the couch, bringing you down with him.

You sink into his side and wrap an arm around his chest as he cradles you in his arms gently. He takes his hand and runs it up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps over every square inch of skin he marks as his own. And this feels right, all of this feels right. He feels right.

He presses a kiss against your forehead and showers you with the perfect aftercare cuddles. He’s so good, the absolute best at aftercare. It’s always been your favorite ever since the first time he did it with you in this very living room that you sit in now. Joel Miller might be dominant in the bedroom, but he’s a big softie underneath it all. He’s the perfect combination of rough around the edges and pure honey everywhere else.

“Did s’good for me, sweetheart. Always do s’good for me,” he purrs as he places another gentle kiss over your forehead. “My perfect girl,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words. My perfect girl.

“Mhm, your perfect girl,” you whisper back as you snuggle into him more, sinking into his chest as his soft t-shirt scrapes along your jawline.

“I like the sound of that,” he laughs, his raspy chuckle that sounds like a symphony of guitars in your ear.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

As the movie comes to an end, Joel grabs the controller and puts on Halloween as you hear the theme song play from the speakers. He relaxes his arm back down around you and pulls you closer to where your cheek is nestled in the crook of his neck as he takes his other hand and runs his fingers through your waves. And this might be your favorite thing ever. Being in his arms. You never want him to let go. Never ever.

You feel yourself start to slip into unconsciousness, feel yourself relax into him as the darkness pulls you under. You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but after a few minutes of cuddling you and Joel fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s warmth as sleep takes you down fast.

And then something happens, something unexpected and unwelcome.

After what seems like hours of sleep, you’re woken up to the harsh lights of the living room being turned on. You jolt awake and sit up, blinking a few times to get your eyes situated to the fluorescent lights above. Joel rubs his eyes and follows your lead, adjusting to being woken up from a deep sleep. Your jaw drops when you see who’s standing in the corner of the room. Sarah.

Oh, fuck.

“I knew it, I knew!” she jumps up and down as her long curls bounce up and down along with her, a big smile spread across her face as she can’t seem to keep her excitement down.

“Shit,” Joel mutters under his breath as your eyes go wide in panic. You try to speak but you can’t. You’re frozen, not knowing what to do or say. You’ve been caught red handed.

“I knew it all along! This is so exciting! You and dad? Oh my God, I’m a genius,” she squeals as she jumps again.

“Sarah! Calm down,” Joel warns as his eyes narrow slightly. Sarah stops jumping but continues beaming at the both of you. You feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat. Your dad. What if she tells your dad?

“Sarah, you’re not gonna tell my parents are you? They’d kill me,” you rush out with your breathing uncontrolled. It feels like you're about to throw up with the knot that’s in your stomach. Joel notices your panic immediately and does what he can to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he urges as he cups your chin and turns you toward him, his deep brown eyes almost calming you down. Almost. “She’s not gonna tell them. Right, Sarah?” he asks as he turns to her, giving her that knowing look.

She imitates her lips being a zipper and acts like she zips them tight. “My lips are sealed. Promise,” she nods as she looks back and forth between the two of you, your anxiety slowly calming down at the confirmation.

“See? She won’t say a word. It’s gonna be okay, darlin’,” he confirms as he soothes you over, one hand rubbing your thigh to calm you down. You nod in acceptance.

Sarah calls your name and you look up. “I’ve noticed the way dad’s looked at you for a while now. Been wondering when he was going to make a move,” she laughs, shaking her head. “He’s liked you for a long time, even if he never told me. I could see it in his eyes.”

You just look over at Joel and smile at him. “Yeah, I’ve liked him for a long time, too,” you say quietly. Joel meets your eyes and smiles at you, the corners of his lips curling up to form those perfect dimples again.

“This is so cute, I think I’m gonna throw up,” she says as she claps her hands together.

“Alright, alright. Go on up and go to bed, it’s past your bedtime,” he says as he points at the clock that says five past midnight.

“Okay,” she groans. “Night, love birds,” she sings as she leaves the room and heads up the stairs.

“You sure she won’t say anything?” you ask nervously, anxiety still swirling through your gut.

“If there’s one thing she’s good at, it’s keeping secrets. So, think we’re safe,” he confirms as you blow out a breath you had been holding.

“That’s a relief. I guess she was bound to find out at some point, right?”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” he says as he nods his head. His calloused thumb shifts against your jawline and he leans in and presses his lips against yours. You lean into him and get lost in his scent, in his abundance of warmth. When you hear the creak of the stairs, you pull apart from his lips fast.

Joel leans over the couch annoyed and peeks up at the stairs. “Sarah?” he asks in a deep voice, warning her to stop spying.

“Uhh, yeah?” she asks nervously.

“Bed. Now,” he growls. She obeys and runs up the stairs, not wasting a second of time. He sighs in annoyance. “She’s never gonna let me live this down,” he groans.

“Hey,” you say as you grab his hand and entangle your fingers in his. “I’ll be right there with you through it.”

He rasps out a chuckle and looks you in the eyes, calm brown eyes returning to look at you. “You want me to take you home? I can drop your car off tomorrow.”

You shake your head no. “Can I stay here tonight? Don’t really want to go home. I’d rather stay with you.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. You always have a place here.” He pushes a curl behind your ear and pulls you back in, planting his lips against yours as a warm wave of peace and serenity cloud your mind.

“C’mon. Let’s get you up to bed.” He pulls you up and picks you up bridal style as you squeal out and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head against the crook of his neck as he carries you up the stairs. And somehow you know it’ll be okay. Things will turn out okay because you’re with Joel.

So when he pulls you tight against him under the sheets and you're wrapped in his t-shirt with his arms around you, you know you’re in good hands. Nothing can ruin what you and Joel have. Not even your dad. Joel has your whole heart and nothing can change that now.

Tags: @amyispxnk @janaispunk @blueseastorm @joelmillersblog @joelalorian @heartstoptrying @littlevenicebitch69 @getitoutofmymindwrites @akah565 @keylimebeag @dugiioh @laurrrra @untamedheart81 @roostersforevergirl @itsokbbygrl @pedrostories

Part 4

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

Note

Alessia, “Keep talking, your voice helps me sleep.” ❣️

keep talking II a.russo

"i'm headed to bed baby." alessia felt your arms wrap around her neck as she blinked a few times, the back of her eyes aching from staring at her monitor for so long as the blonde exhaled and leaned back into you.

" i'll be five minutes? i just need to submit this and i'm done for the whole weekend." your girlfriend promised as you nodded in understanding, pecking her cheek and withdrawing your arms from around her neck.

alessia sighed again as she rubbed her eyes tiredly, having stared at this essay for so long now it was seeming more like gibberish than english.

when she signed up for this course she knew it would be a tremendous amount of extra work but she was ready for it, she'd already mapped out a schedule of hours dedicated to her studies among her other commitments before she'd even finished her enrollment.

but what she hadn't been able to properly prepare for was how exhausting that extra work would feel.

alessia knew all too well that without you she'd have already dropped out and long given up on trying to balance everything, dangerously close to toppling over the edge.

but then there was you, her lifeline, the one who steered her away from the ledge without even trying even sometimes just with something as simple as a smile.

you who picked up all of the slack, who got up early and did all of her washing to ensure that she had clean uniforms, had dinner ready and on the table when she got home late.

you who had fresh flowers on the counter every weekend, who would go out to do the shopping and always come home with some sort of sweet treat to perk up alessia's spirits when she'd spent the day locked up studying.

you, her person.

finally clicking submit alessia groaned quietly with relief, snapping her laptop shut as her monitor went black and the room darkened, only illuminated by the lamp on her left which she reached over and flicked off.

"jesus." the blonde mumbled as she stood and a sharp twinge of pain shot through her neck and back. "stupid shitty chair." she huffed, kicking it with a glare and stretching out.

"hi gorgeous." you smiled at your girlfriend as she finally appeared, closing the bedroom door behind her with a sigh. "all submitted?" you questioned as she gave you a tired nod, slipping into bed as you marked your page in your book and put it aside.

"i'll turn the lights off then shall i babe?" you teased as your girlfriend patted your leg, eyes already closed. with a smile you rolled out of bed, flicking off the lights and returning, alessia immediately latching onto you.

"how was your day? tell me about it." the blonde asked softly, head resting on your chest as her long legs tangled with your own, one hand slipped up the inside of your shirt needing to feel as much of her skin against yours as she could.

so you did, recounting fondly the day you'd spent away from her and with some school friends, dragged around shopping for your best friends wedding dress, even though she was yet to be proposed to.

"she's always been one to go for what she wants." alessia chuckled, eyes closed and voice nothing above a soft rasp as you tangled a hand in her hair.

"you're exhausted my love, time for sleep." you smiled fondly, scratching gently at her scalp with your nails as she exhaled deeply into your neck.

"keep talking, your voice helps me sleep." your girlfriend requested tiredly, hand moving up and down your side as you melted. "do you want me to talk about space?" you smiled in amusement, the blonde always teasing that you were far too invested in the topic and that she'd gladly send you off to live in mars.

"yeah, that works." alessia agreed with a nod as you kissed her forehead. "because its so boring it'll send you to sleep?" you joked, met with silence which was enough of an answer. "less its not boring!" you protested quietly, feeling her smile against your chest as you jostled her a little and she whined.

"sure baby, talking about moon rocks is super interesting."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso community #woso imagine

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killthewhisperingart · 8 months ago

Text

Meet Me After Class

Pairing: Gym Teacher!Dean Winchester x History Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 790

Summary: Of course he's decided to bother you while you're grading papers.

Warning(s): Smut. Smut. Sex.

A/N: One of my friends challenged me to do this, so I finished this in one night. :3

I am an 18+ Blog.

You groan softly as you shake your head, marking another answer wrong on a students paper. You didn't understand, you had pushed the test back by a week to better help your students prepare, yet they didn't utilize any of the extra time correctly. You know for a fact that this student probably didn't know what class this was.

You knew once you passed these exams back, and your students saw their grades, you'd be their worst enemy.

You rub your hand down your face, popping your wrists before stretching backwards. Your back pops in a few places before you melt, dropping your arms and preparing yourself to get back to grading. A glance to the clock on the wall tells you that you've been in your classroom for an hour and a half since the final bell rang.

A knock at your classroom door startles you, a stray mark now on the essay question in bright red ink. You scoff, capping the pen before pushing out your chair, walking towards the door, your lanyard jingling with every movement.

Dean smiles, holding a bag of takeout. You look at it, before slowly dragging your gaze to his face, your hand on the door still.

"What's this?" You ask, your brows furrowed.

"Food." He says simply, stepping into the classroom. He's no longer in his usual Gym attire, having changed into his usual jeans and T-shirt, though the whistle still lingers around his neck. You think he probably went home, got food, and came back to work. "You know Food, right? You eat it." He teases.

You can't hold back your groan, rolling your eyes before going to your desk. He pushes the door closed behind him as he enters the room, jiggling the handle to confirm it's locked. You crash into your chair, and it rolls backwards. You take your lanyard off, tossing it onto the desk as you pick your legs up to set your feet on your desk, careful to not step on the papers.

"Thought we weren't supposed to put our feet on the furniture?" He taps your foot as he sits on your desk.

"We're not supposed to put our asses on tables either, but I'm not getting onto you about it right now." You snap halfheartedly, hand out as he puts a burger wrapped in tin foil onto your palm. Still warm.

He wastes no time in devouring his own burger, grease running down his fingers, no regard for the sauce on the corner of his mouth. You scoff out a chuckle, opening your own meal.

You both eat in silence, well, at least you do. He can't seem to stop himself from making obscene noises for his burger.

"You're always working," He finally comments, tossing the wrapper in the trash, wiping his face.

"Well, I actually have to *work* at my job, so." You grin sarcastically, tossing your trash at his face. He takes it in stride, catching it and tossing it into the trash.

"I work!" He defends himself.

"No you don't!" You guffaw. "You get paid to make students stay in shape, but you don't do the same."

"I work out regularly!" He points out. "My stamina is amazing."

"As if."

The desk is hard against your chest, your hands gripping the sides hard. The wood furniture scrapes against the floor harshly with every rough thrust from behind you. His jeans rub the skin on the back of your thighs as he fucks into you.

"What was that?" He asks, a cocky grin on his face as he positions his head next to yours. "What'd you say about my stamina?"

"Shut up-" You choke out, whining as you scrape your nails against the wood.

"I can't hear you." He teases, biting your ear lobe, tugging roughly. You almost squeal, but you clamp a hand over your mouth, knowing you couldn't possibly be the only two people left in the school.

He's so damn talkative, never knowing how to shut the fuck up and just fuck you.

You push yourself up, turning your torso to grab the whistle around his neck. His eyes widen as you jerk it forward to connect your lips to his. He eagerly returns your kiss, kissing you just as sloppily as he eats his food.

His thrusts turn sloppy, his chest stuttering with every shaky breath. His saliva drools into your open mouth, and eagerly you swallow.

His grip tightens on your hips, body shuddering one last time with three final deep thrusts. He stays seated within you, collecting himself, the whistle jingling as you let go.

"Fuck-" You mutter, kissing him one last time. "Maybe your stamina is fine."

"Just fine?"

"We'll have to test this again."

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #x reader #x reader smut #reader insert smut #reader insert #gender neutral reader #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #teacher au #gym teacher dean winchester #dean winchester au #supernatural au #x reader au #smut

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dead3ve · 7 months ago

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Steven Meeks x fem!reader

Summary: Steven Meeks and some other Welton academics are present at a competition they have been winning for 5 years. Welton lost the History prize to another private school, housing young women, breaking Welton's winning streak. One of the women makes Meeks lose all concentration, causing Welton also lose the Mathematics award as well.

Warnings: reader uses they/them pronouns, referred to as a female, girl, women. Meeks is pining. No use of y/n.

The hall was loud. Meeks was sweating. The noise wasn't helping him solve difficult equations. With time running out he was growing nervous. Restless. He was the math genius at Welton, and he was struggling to even think. Gerard Pitts and Richard Cameron were doing more than he was.

The hall, where the competition was taking place, was asked to quieten down. A man who was round and grey-haired was talking into a microphone. He announced "The Excellence in Historical Writing award goes to the Ladies' College. We ask for two student representatives to approach the front to receive their award."

The hall erupted into applause. The Ladies' College table began to holler and cheer for their friends who stood. One of the two who stood wore the dull, navy-blue uniform of a lengthy skirt and boxy button up shirt with a heavy blazer and made Meeks turn as red as his hair. Their joy and confidence that radiated off of them made Steven feel the same way. Once they were at the stage holding the award and smiling for a photo, Meeks smiled too. The hall was quiet at that point. Quiet enough for Meeks to hear a faraway "Thank you." from the awarded girl and snickering from Pitts who was sat next to him.

Meeks stomped on his foot under the table.

Cameron was sick of his teammates being distracted by things as simple as girls. "If you're so interested in her, go and say something. You're not doing anything here, Meeks." Cameron was frustrated, talking through his gritted teeth.

"Yeah, Meeks. I'll go with you. They're at the food table with their friend." Pitts offered, attempting to sooth Cameron's insult.

Steven weighed the options out in his head. He could nail the exam, which he wasn't sure he could do because of the distracting beauty of the History girl. Or he could attempt to meet the girl, and maybe, with some charm win her over. Both, to Steven Meeks were very poor options at the time, but he decided the latter had slightly better odds with Pitts by his side.

Pitts and Meeks stood up from their table and approached the food tables where the girls prepared slices of cakes and tea for their table. Pitts went to make a cup of tea, putting him in place for a conversation.

"How is your team looking for math?" Pitts asks the girls' friend as he stirs sugar into his tea.

The girl Meeks failed to acknowledge began to talk animatedly to Pitts about the poor questions chosen for the examination. Pitts became too engaged in conversation to help Meeks, leaving the red head to stand awkwardly in front of the girl who drew his interest initially. Meeks couldn't bring himself to say anything. Maybe it was nerves. Maybe her presence was so important and radiant that it shouldn't be ignored with talk.

"You're here for math?" A quiet question left the girl's mouth. They also held a cup of tea, and they took a sip after asking the question.

"Yeah, yes." Meeks fumbled his answer. Wringing his hands tightly as he spoke. "Did you do the History essay?"

They smiled at that. They blushed and looked at the wooden floors beneath them. "Yes, I did." They looked back up at Meeks with excited eyes, "Sad I took the Welton crown?"

Meeks smiled at that. They were playful. Steven let out a small laugh of relief. "No not at all. Suits you more than us." Meeks looked at the girl, cautious of their reaction, hoping he hadn't put his foot into his mouth like he so often did.

They smiled, blushed then took a step closer to Meeks. "What's your name? I'd also like to know if you're bribing the math win from us, considering you are charming me." They spoke, knowing their words, confidently.

Meeks blushed, turning red again. He began to laugh at their statement. "It's Steven Meeks and this isn't a bribe. My friends saw me looking at you and made me leave the table because I was slowing them down. You were a pretty distraction." Meeks couldn't believe what he was saying. He was not one to do this.

Suddenly, the girl pushed her arm towards Meeks, with a pen extended in their other hand. "Can I have your phone number, Steven? The school one or your family's one. Do you board at Welton?" All of these fretful questions were asked as Meeks quickly wrote the school's phone number down onto their skin in a hurry to calm them. He gently let go of their arm and held the pen back at them.

"I board at Welton, but we leave the campus on weekends. Maybe you'd want to join me one weekend?" Meeks was asking a girl out on a date. He was red in the face and still sweating. It was no longer loud in the hall though because all Meeks could hear was their acceptance to the proposed date.

Cameron suddenly turned Meeks with a firm hand gripping his shoulder. "What are you doing Meeks? We just lost the Math prize. Dr Hager is going to kill us." Cameron was angry at Pitts but more so Steven. He began to drag Meeks away from the two girls by the collar of his blazer. Cameron couldn't handle more homework. Meeks could, if he got to see a pretty girl because of it.

#steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #dead poets society #dead poets society x reader #dead poets #dead poets fanfic #dps #fem!reader

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lintwriting · 7 months ago

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How to Write Intelligent Characters (Like Wei Wuxian!)

Wei Wuxian has a really bad memory, but he is also smart enough to realize this and then use it to insult people as a joke—WITH plausible deniability to shield him from any potential consequences.

This interplay between extreme intelligence, comical brain farts, and layered social interaction is what makes MDZS so fun to read because it creates a real complexity to both him and his environment. There are multiple layers going on in this scene, with in-jokes and social factions and miscommunications, as there is in reality. And it’s a tangible demonstration of his intelligence, that he’s able to think of this deception in the first place and so casually.

But also it make the story less monotonous by having this complexity. 3 layers.

There the first layer.

“Extremely intelligent character” Like gadget inventor characters or nerdy hackers. Their hyper intelligence is useful for plot reasons, and highly competent characters are likable. And this is not bad for a side character.

It can go too far, however, such as in the case with BBC Sherlock, when the author makes the character so hyper intelligent he becomes an unbelievable god character and wraps back around to being dislikable again. Like the author’s personal pet character who can do no wrong with the excuse of his intelligence allowing him to do anything, leading to extreme annoyance whenever he’s on screen, which is all the time bc he the main character (is that just me?) lol

Then there’s the second layer to break up the monotony of intelligence.

Wei Wuxian has shit memory. Like laughably shit memory. Much like how video games create perks that also give you cons in specific ways to make your decision to use it more satisfyingly personal, like choosing to wear shitty armor that looks pretty because you value style over function, Wei Wuxian’s extreme intelligence is often undercut by scenes of extreme brain farts.

Whether it be an almost painful level of obliviousness or an extreme failed memory check, Wei Wuxian gains a flaw that not only makes him human and therefore relatable, but also unique in the pantheon of genius characters out there because he’s a genius in THIS SPECIFIC NICHE (trademarked).

This nuance/uniqueness/realness, thus, will allow his character to say more about the real world than mr god intelligence BBC Sherlock.

For the most obvious one, he’s a persuasive essay on why intelligence is not predicated on good memory, which maps well onto his larger character trait of being a intelligent slacker in school (of which the number one complaint is that it is immaterial to actual learning and only really tests memory).

What does BBC Sherlock say, beyond the idea that a god has no need for human rules? That IS a message, but a hypothetical one, as most people will never get to that level of comical intelligence for it to be relevant. Well, I guess assholes (who are less smart than they think) use characters like him as excuses to be dicks, so there's that, but I think that's proof of how legitimately unrealistic he is. He's the power fantasy of teen boys and maladjusted adults, like Rick Rick and Morty.

The third layer is him remembering that he has shit memory and using it to his advantage.

THIS is the part that gets to me THE MOST about his character and arguably the part where MXTX proved (to me) that she’s a better writer than BBC Sherlock writing staff, especially when it come to OP or intelligent characters.

There’s an ELEVATION that happens on this third layer. This is where your character goes from a smart character to a smart person to an ABSOLUTE GOAT. This is the hype that the BBC Sherlock crew wanted when doing a smart god character but absolutely failed to nail deadass, Jesus-style.

Cheatcodes to Writing Intelligence

For one, it’s putting her money where her mouth is. BBC Sherlock creates hyper intelligence by bending the plot to Sherlock's will, like one of those Twitter fake "oracle" accounts that make predictions and then retroactively delete the wrong ones to make them look psychic.

It's not true prediction, and neither is Sherlock solving a mystery unsolvable to the audience because the writer can cheat and handwave his logic — THE VERY THING BEING SHOWCASED — by just showing Sherlock being right all the time about random things we couldn't know ourselves.

(And in Sherlock, this is mostly downplayed because the mystery is less important than the character drama (send prayers for Johnlock), but it goes from a subversion to a Game Of Thrones subversion (derogatory) when the show starts failing at the character drama too, making his stupid caricature of intelligence insulting instead of an interesting exploration of a hypothetical god trying to grow up human, Jesus-style.)

Wei Wuxian also has this hand-wave-y aspect to his intelligence. We're told and shown he's a genius inventor through the cheat code of the world's magic system. Magic without rules is famously hard to write well because any story's conflict can be solved with "well a wizard came and saved the day through GOD-like abilities" if the author is too lazy to write a satisfying conclusion.

Wei Wuxian is the inventor of Necromancy, and while yes this is sort of explained through a scene where he's arguing against the establishment to his cultivation teacher, the logic of it is very simple. "What if we reversed energy? (simplification of what he actually said)," the reality of his genius invention of necromancy is just that it's the author saying "well Wei Wuxian did it through his GOD-LIKE intelligence."

What we really get out of this is that his COUNTERCULTURAL HERESY (Galileo-Style) is revolutionary. Not so much his logic being revolutionary when the concept is THIS simple (haha reverse evil suppressing wards to get an evil attracting ward go brrr). But the story handwaves this away with just making other characters utter trash at necromancy, cheating at making him seem like a genius in comparison (simplified for scope, there's more to this).

IF that were all there was to him, he'd only be a 2 layer AT MOST. Instead, we have this third layer, where he directly reacts to information the reader has received in witty ways. (This also makes him self reacting, which is what makes us human)

The Structure of Setting Up Intelligence

Part of what makes mysteries so satisfying is that the reader is rewarded for paying attention/engagement. If they notice a clue that becomes a part of the detective's explanation later on, it's like a puzzle falling into place, where you feel like a special big boy for noticing. And if the detective manages to solve it where you didn't despite having all these clues, YOU become the dumb shitty necromancer jobber who makes Wei Wuxian look good in comparison. Metaphorically.

Similarly, we have all the clues. Wei Wuxian is smart and resourceful. Wei Wuxian forgets a lot of things. Wei Wuxian gets told he's forgotten a lot of things. What's the next logical step? Wei Wuxian smartly uses his forgetfulness as a resource!

2. At the beginning of the book, he accidentally snubs a side character by responding "I don't even know who you are" (simplified for scope's sake). At the time, he genuinely is fumbling here, messing up his social standing because of an actual brain fart, but in a way that's hilarious and better-than-you, so we think nothing of it... until he learns from this mistake right in front of our eyes!

Because later on, he REPEATS this line to the SAME character to legitimately snub them when they were making accusations of him personally attacking them. Not only is this an infuriating snub done on purpose this time, but it's a lie—Wei Wuxian remembered this asshole after the many many dumb dramas with them.

3. But it's a useful lie because it demonstrates a truth—WEI WUXIAN DIDN'T ATTACK THEM. Wei Wuxian would have motive to attack them hypothetically (read: dumb dramas), but the reality is that he doesn't care about them enough to do so, for all intents and purposes making them "forgotten" to Wei Wuxian. Best of all, people believed him because HE'S DONE THIS EXACT THING BEFORE. The plot is repeating, but nothing feels the same. LAYERS absolutely destroying MONOTONY.

3. On top of that, it's a reaction to himself. He's demonstrating both metacognition and self-awareness, here, which is something actively studied in psychology as a phenomenon humans have that other animals might not, a la Dunning Kruger and the mirror test, respectively. What's more human than cringing at your un-self-awareness and learning from it?

And the best part is that we were on every step of this journey. It feels like such an obvious move to make now, like duh you can use your forgetfulness as a form of weaponized incompetence—guys do it all the time (derogatory). Wei Wuxian even does this in a cute way with his sister when he does Sajiao/aegyo at her to get her attention (affectionate).

4. But it truly hits different seeing him do it in such a specifically crafted story, structured like a mystery or a joke where the logic or punchline is him pretending to have bad memory, and I personally would never have thought of doing this on the spot like he did. This is some post-argument hindsight shower thought shit. Genius power fantasy done well.

Shit like this is STORYTELLING and STORY CRAFTING. The repetition of the scene to make his second snub more potent. THIS IS THE POWER OF SET UP AND PAYOFF. A unique usage of the adage of how a character's greatest strength is their greatest weakness, like someone's determination making them bull-headed and stubborn. Except in reverse, necromancy style, where a fatal flaw (his memory) becomes a great strength (plausible deniability). A simple example of how characterization is about specific traits in unique ways to SHOW us his personality better than the author just telling you he's smart ever could, like in BBC Sherlock. THE POWER OF SHOWING NOT TELLING. The interplay of the contradictions within his intelligence as a way to show that he's "real" and not a god. THE POWER OF DEPTH.

All this while he is quite literally the god of his story (Jesus-style).

That's right! Time for pointing out the idolization and mythologizing of Galileo!

Now I don't know if this is true because fact checking in Chinese fandoms is a nightmare when 1. your chinese is barely fluent and 2. most chinese socmed platforms require a chinese phone number to sign up. 3. these two facts leads to a lot of fandom telephone. But I remember someone quoting MXTX on the idea that Wei Wuxian and his love interest are supposed to be the moral paragons of this story (despite the way Wei Wuxian has been demonized *haha get it? demonic cultivation. his ghost cultivation got called demonic cultivation in the most on the nose misnomer in history*). This is probably not a true quote, but it's emblematic of how it feels to be reading this story.

For one, Wei Wuxian is quite literally the moral paragon. He's one of like 3 people actively against a genocide (other than its victims). A genocide that characters within the positions of power go along with for what boils down to personal convenience's sake (ALL EYES ON RAFAH). He's one of the few characters to truly master resentment AKA ENVY (aka WEI "No Envies" WUXIAN) in a story where basically all the bad stuff happens due to envy (funnily enough the actual evil villain of the story is probably the only opp who wasn't actually jealous of him, despite arguably being the one who not only was the most envious of the whole series and the one whose envy would make sense, being narrative foils with Wei Wuxian and all). You'd never see Wei Wuxian wishing evil upon someone out of jealousy (he quite literally sacrifices himself to save his "unrequited" "crush's" "crush").

For two, this world is set in ancient times, where killing was still wrong but also simultaneously seen as honorable, like with Odysseus killing his wife's suitors in revenge being seen as honorable, DESPITE him hating it when the cyclops killed HIS crew in revenge for sheep lol. Wei Wuxian has slaughtered many people, but often in circumstances that soften the immorality of it, like the insanity defense or self defense or "this is war in ancient china" or stopping a genocide. And he acknowledges that these wrongs were still wrongs and does good in the world/changes as a person to atone.

For three, he's god damned OP. In a magic system where enlightenment is directly tied to magical ability, Wei Wuxian is one of the most powerful magic users in their world. Top of his generation, beat out only by his love interest, kinda. Morality is tied to cultivation, which is why it's called the "righteous" sects.

But it gets better, because those sects are not actually righteous. The vast majority are hypocrites or worse, and their work mostly involves killing things for "mundane" people, who treat them like nobility for doing so (depth in contradiction). The implication is sorta kinda that Wei Wuxian so powerful BECAUSE Wei Wuxian is one of the few to actually be righteous and not just self-righteous.

Thus, him being the inventor, the only non-noble, and only user of ghost path cultivation, the reverse of cultivation, thus serves to highlight his moral integrity in comparison, even when being called a heretic (depth in contradiction).

(And while people argue that his cultivation ITSELF is evil, causing the souls of the dead to be unable to reincarnate, I'd argue that that reading is a misread that gets distracted by thinking "demonic" and "ghost" cultivation are the same thanks to his title as the grandmaster of DEMONIC cultivation, when they're not the same (again, misnomer). In reality, he's the only successful user of the ghost path, which is about EMPATHY (Wei Wuxian's most signature magical ability after his flute playing skills) for the dead, playing into their resentment to help them pass, like he said in the very scene where he defies the establishment of his school and initially defines his path. The shitty jobber demonic cultivators are going evil and shit because it's actually pretty hard to put yourself in people's worst desires and hurts (wwx still went insane lol), much less if you yourself are controlled by resentment like Xue Yang or Su She was, who both technically "empathize" in that they're about as resentful as ACTUAL ghosts LMAO.)

Anyways, all this to say that the entire story is structured around hiding the fact that Wei Wuxian is the bestest guy ever embroiled in a huge mystery, who gets slandered and killed by his opps for standing up against powerful oppressors before coming back to life and clearing his name... (jesus-style). A lot of the book is him morality mogging or witty mogging randos, many of whom are cartoonishly evil or rude. Dare I say it? Yes. Like BBC Sherlock.

BOOM. Gallileo becomes the myth.

BBC SHERLOCK 🤝WEI WUXIAN

Whew, I finally brought it back around to my original point.

THIS is why Wei Wuxian is everything BBC Sherlock writers wished they were doing. Because in spite of all their similarities (seriously? both of them have a death period where their lover (rip johnlock) is mourning them before coming back to life??) BBC Sherlock's nowadays gets mercilessly mocked for being a Mary Sue and his fanfic community is dead, meanwhile Wei Wuxian is so beloved by his readers that MDZS fanfic literally has had such a huge impact it got Ao3 banned in China and then added a maximum to tags on Ao3 PERIOD. King shit.

And despite what this post seems, it's not a disparagement of BBC Sherlock as a character. I loved him, I loved the idea of exploring this demigod. Superwho-manly intelligent, but in ways that make it hard for him to function in the human world (until John). His struggles with ostracism, "weird" interests, sensory issues, etc. are alarmingly human and a great allegory for neurodivergence (while not being one of those cringe "autism savant" tropes bc he isn't literally autistic). Sherlock fic popped off for a reason, it's just that the writing of the show didn't do the legwork work that MDZS did to support his character as a god, instead it mostly did shit like "oh it's okay I'm a pretentious asshole because I'm a genius and always magically right, even when I'm wrong, because I'm god." Like if Rick Rick and Morty wasn't self-aware... T_T

That's why this post is me compiling the ways Wei Wuxian's character was crafted to be intelligent. It's not bad to have power fantasy OP characters, but it's hard to do them as well as him. It's not just the clever deceptions or witty usage of words with multiple meanings or the self-awareness and learning, or giving the intelligence flaws to make it more believable. Sherlock had all these and more.

It's the combination of it all, usually in the order of "telling" they're intelligent through abstract things like other characters saying he's really good at detectivework and them magically solving cases, then complicating that intelligence through some kind of flaw, then "showing" him overcoming that complication using concrete examples of intelligence, such as self-awareness, witty double entendres/callbacks, contradictorily using weakness or appearing weak for specific gains, and reframing the given 'clues' in a new light with the help of red herrings. This is like a steelman persuasive essay format, but with proving that someone is smart. Thesis, counter, rebuttal with quantitative evidence. There's like a mini arc build up to a mini climax/climactic moment that makes it satisfying.

The set up and payoffs are key here, as a lot of these just require a bit of legwork before the payoff, such as Wei Wuxian repeating the same line he used as a mistake into one he does on purpose or find a scenario where forgetfulness is actually helpful in deceptions or whatever the chosen scenario is. Much easier to begin with the end in mind in and then retroactively write the beginning to match, instead of creating an impossible mystery, after all. 😭😭 Best part is that I didn’t even compare the mystery writing of MDZS to Sherlock’s ass mysteries, I did it purely on the strength of how its intelligence is utilized for character drama, just as Moffat and his defenders would have wanted.

#metas #mdzs #mxtx #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #bbc sherlock #sherlock #steven moffat #writing #writeblr #hbomberguy #yeah this is mostly me writing a love letter to hbomb’s Sherlock video #analysis #danmei #tropes #storytelling #xtian hegemony #rick and morty #self awareness

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braidlottie · 10 months ago

Text

copycat

pairing: professor!matthews x transmasc!student!reader

summary: after your english professor catches you plagiarizing on your latest essay, she gives you a punishment you'll never forget.

tags: smut, nsfw, 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (reader is 19, lottie is 40), professor matthews and reader secretly dating!!! this is not just a random hookup lmao, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, handjob/blowjob, professor matthews being mean :((

word count: 1k

"any more questions?" your professor turned around to the class after wiping the board. she got no reply, shrugging and putting her glasses on her head, holding her hair back. "okay! have a good one, everyone!" she excused everyone, watching them put on their backpacks and walk out.

this being your last class today, you were so happy to get home and relax. you can do your homework tomorrow. "hang on, honey. can i talk to you really quick?" professor matthews touched your shoulder, pushing you back down into your seat. "uhh- of course. is everything okay?"

she shut the door, and drew the curtains on the windows. she sucked in a hard breath, sitting back down in her chair. she gestured a "come here" with her fingers, slipping her glasses back on. she pulled out another chair from behind the desk, and you walked over to her. and as you sat down, you saw multiple paragraphs highlighted red. "does this look familiar to you?"

you began to read the hook of the essay, your stomach dropping when you realized it was yours. you turned to your instructor with wide eyes, the feeling finally settling in that you were caught.

"wait! it's not what it looks like." you tried to save yourself, but there was no hope. "it's exactly what it looks like, sweetheart." her hands were crossed, giving you a serious but sympathetic look. "would you like to tell me why you would copy an article and think that you would get away with it? and don't lie to me."

you had never seen this side of lottie before. she was always so kind to you and seeing her so hostile and you being the cause of it, was a little intimidating.

"i-i couldn't think of anything to write, so- i don't know, i just copied that last minute and turned it in." you answered with a pitiful look, and she hummed. "i see. so what you're saying is, i gave you a whole week to write a two page essay and you forged it?" you nodded shamefully.

“such a naughty boy.”

something about that made your cock twitch.

"please don't tell anyone, can you just pass me like you always do?" you were pleading, knowing that plagiarism this serious could get you kicked out of school. "if anything, i should tell someone! i should drop you from this class right now."

regretful tears of shame began to well in your eyes, lottie noticing and sighing. "'m really sorry, lottie. just- don't drop me, please."

she tsks, standing up and holding your chin up. "fine, i won’t say a word to anyone. but i’m not letting you get off scot-free.”

she pulled you up by your shirt, one of her hand on your ass cheek and the other on your belt buckle. she slowly held up your shirt, marveling at your chest. you couldn't believe how fast she loosened your belt with one hand, the buckle jingling as you whined when you realized how embarrassing your boxers were.

"spider-man? really? god, you just get cuter and cuter, don't you?" she shook her head. "i want you to bend over, so i can spank that little ass. you deserve it for being such a bad boy." she forces you over her desk, pulling down your boxers teasingly slow. "lottie.. please..." you looked back at her, squirming when her nails scratched your ass. "you don't have to do this."

"oh, but i do." she smacked your right cheek, getting a loud groan out of you. "and you better stay quiet." lottie noticed how your groans got whinier and desperate after each spank. "i think you actually like this, hmm? you like it when your professor spanks you for being so naughty?" her voice got deeper, her rhythm not skipping a beat. you whined, shaking your head against the wood.

"then, what's this?" her hand swipes up your thigh, collecting the slick dripping into your boxers that you had no knowledge of. "i bet you're hard right now, hmm?" you couldn't even answer, groaning into the desk. she turned you around, your tdick rising from the surprising gust of wind. "aww, look at that," she lifted you up by your thighs, sitting you on the desk. she lifted up the hood, finding your throbbing, pink head. "fuck." you squirmed in her hold.

"ah, ah, don't curse. bad boy." your dick was held in-between her fingers, stroking you up and down. “fu-ahh!” you felt her hand slap over your mouth.

“am i going to have to gag you? be. quiet.”

now that you think about it, you were kind of glad you plagiarized.

you were trying to say something, but your mouth was still covered by lottie. “what was that, sweetie?”

“i want your mouth. please.”

“you want my mouth? where, sweetheart?”

you hated when she made you describe everything so literally, especially during sex.

“c’mon, tell me, baby.”

“you already know.”

“but i want you to tell me.” her hands squeezed around your waist.

“mm- i want your mouth on my cock, please.” lottie grinned at your shyness, soaking up all the adorableness from your embarrassment. “good boy. since you asked so nicely…”

she crouched down, tongue swirling about on your twitching cock, your cunt clenching onto nothing so needily. “lottie…”

“you know that’s not my name here, sweet boy.” she watched your face scrunch up in desperation. “professor… ‘m gonna cum,” you choked out, your thighs trembling from the wet, warm feeling of lottie’s lips sucking you.

“oh, i bet you are. cumming in your professors mouth on her desk? such a dirty little boy.”

you whimpered, so close to the edge.

then all of it just- stopped.

“nononono, please, please, lottie-” you shook your head, crying from the denial. “you didn’t think i was really going to let you cum, right?”

a tear flung from your eye and lottie scoffed, brushing it away with her thumb. “you’re still on punishment, darling.”

she pulled your shirt down and helped you off the desk, pulling your boxers and pants back up. “you better go home, and write that essay, the right way, and have it on my desk as soon as class starts monday. and you better not touch yourself. understand me?”

“yes.”

“yes, what?” she zipped up your pants, kissing your neck.

“yes, professor.”

“there’s my good boy. now run along.” she spanked your stinging bottom once more to send you on your way, watching your legs wobble as you scrambled out of the room.

taglist: @t4tnat @jaywritessometimes @girltwinklater @kessellluvr @lotties-ashwagandha @shipmanisms

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottie matthews #lottie x reader #lottie matthews smut #lottie yellowjackets #lottie matthews x reader #lottie mathews x reader #adult lottie #charlotte matthews #professor matthews

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plusultraetc · 3 months ago

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final(s) straw

Ironically, none of Nemuri's friends sleep like normal people.

At 12:47 am, Nemuri lets her head fall to the table.

“I hate finals week.”

Across from her, Yamada makes a sympathetic noise. “Why don’t they tell you when you assign a paper that you’re going to have to grade the papers after?”

“Exactly.” She points in his general direction without lifting her head. “I’m so glad someone finally knows my pain.”

It’s not even Friday, is the thing. If it was Friday-technically-Saturday, Nemuri could hike up her big girl pants and get this done, but it’s Thursday-technically-Friday and she has to proctor two exams tomorrow and so all she has to hike up are her most luxurious pink pajama bottoms and even they aren’t really making her feel any better.

She has patrol on Friday evenings. She is going to cry.

“I’m going to sleep all weekend,” she says, half-affirmation, half-promise.

Yamada makes another note in the margin of the paper he’s grading. It joins a sea of its crimson brethren. “I’m not.”

“Oh, shit, nooo.” She reaches across the table and makes grabby hands until he surrenders one of his own. “Quit your job.”

“Which one?”

“Not this one. You can’t leave me here.”

“You brought me here.”

Nemuri hums with her cheek pressed to the top of tonight’s lowest-scoring final. “Like a mother bringing a child into this world of suffering.”

“Kayama, what?”

She pats his hand delicately and then digs her nails in with one final squeeze. Yamada yelps and jolts away. The dishes rattle warningly in her kitchen cabinets.

“I hope that woke you up, because it did jack shit for me,” she grumbles, pushing herself upright. Yamada shoots her a petulant look, shaking his abused hand loosely.

“If you’re really that tired, take a nap. I’ll wake you in a little bit.”

“Yamada, sweetie, if I take a nap right now there won’t be a force on earth that could wake me.”

“You could sleep on the floor.”

Nemuri blinks at him as he returns his attention to his paper. “Like, on a futon?”

“No. Like on the floor. That way, you can’t get too comfortable, and it’ll be easier to wake up.”

“What?”

He glances up at her. “What do you mean, ‘what?’ I did that all the time in high school.”

He did… what? Floor naps? He did floor naps in high school? Yamada was a year behind her at UA, but she has the vague recollection that he always had really good grades. Like, really good. Like pull an all-nighter, study until your eyes are burning, and then nap on the floor instead of going to bed so you can keep studying good.

“Yamada, what?”

“Why do you keep saying that!”

Nemuri flails. “Floor naps!?”

“They’re effective!”

“They’re ridiculous! That’s something a ridiculous person does!” She would know, and so would he, because their mutual ridiculous person does pretty much exactly that thing. Nemuri reaches across the table and Yamada, beautiful fool that he is, lets her grab his hand again. “If I had known you were taking floor naps in high school, I would have intervened much sooner. I would have made it my personal mission to tank your GPA in the name of sleep.” A horrible thought occurs to her. “Wait, do you still do that now? Do you just curl up on the floor at the station next to your recording equipment and sleep for half an hour?”

Yamada rolls his eyes. “Who do I look like, Aizawa? Of course not!” He pauses. “And half an hour is too long. No matter how uncomfortable you are, you will fall totally asleep after half an hour. Fifteen to twenty minutes is ideal.”

“Oh my god.”

“And you don’t take floor naps in public. You take them in the privacy of your own home where you can lose control of your life but no one is around to see it.”

“Oh my god. I’m getting you professional help.”

“For what? I don’t even do that anymore. I don’t have time to nap.” He waves a marked-up essay at her. “I have three jobs.”

#kayama nemuri #yamada hizashi #taking the place of wip wednesday bc I Love Them Your Honor #and bc it was supposed to be a longer fic but as you can see it kind of devolved lol #i'm putting the ficlets here for now until i figure out if i want to make them all a multichapter work on ao3 or a series #micnight friendship is actually something that can be a lil ooc and kind of silly but so personal #liza writes #mha fic #this is unfortunately another of those fics that is pretty much a word for word conversation i've had with a friend #iykyk #chaotic group of twenty somethings takes floor naps and almost burns down an apartment building #more at 11

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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter three: sugar & spice

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: loving my prof. javi and thank you endlessly to @northernbluess for beta-ing <33333 love ya!

“Hey, angel.”

The signal isn’t great when you pick up the phone, an unfamiliar number piquing your interest as you sit on the floor of your bedroom painting your nails. The phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder, and hearing that low, raspy timbre through the cracking line brings a smile to your face and a stir of excitement in your stomach.

No, stop, stupid brain. He’s someone you’re seeing for work, you shouldn’t blur the lines with him when you have other arrangements.

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you up to, cariño?”

The simple question brings a smile to your face, leaning back against your bedframe. You picture him in his own apartment, probably on his couch or in his bed; imagining his apartment is warm, with leather furniture and sharp edge surfaces — a balance of the firm and clean-cut facade with the worn softness of his gentle personality.

“Mm, painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“Burgundy. Like a reddish purple kind of color.”

“Y’know that’s my favorite color, angel. Bet it looks very pretty.”

“Are you gonna say that about every color I use for my nails? Something tells me we might have this conversation many times,” you giggle and can hear a breathy laugh from him.

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d be wrong, you’d look pretty in anything and with any nail color, querida,” you can hear shuffling on the other line, a faint sigh slipping from lips, “Any chance you’re free Friday evening, angel?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, let me check.” You carefully stand from the floor, leaving the bottle there and walking over to your desk to look over your open planner. Skimming over the day, you see you have a date with a different man scheduled already, pouting to yourself.

“What’s the verdict, cariño?”

“M’sorry, Javi, I actually have something that night,” you confess, quickly following it up, “But I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“That works perfectly for me. Just selfishly wanted to see you sooner,” he runs his thumb across his bottom lip, knee bouncing out of nerves against the floor as he sits on the edge of his bed, “I’ll call you later this week to give you details?”

“That sounds perfect, Javi.”

He desperately wants to keep you on the line, to have your voice in his ear for a bit longer, so he’s scrambling a bit on what to ask you. The first thing that comes to mind spills out, “How’s the essay coming along?”

Palm to his forehead and rolling his eyes at himself, he relaxes only a bit when he hears you laugh, “Professor Peña making an appearance…It’s going alright, I think. I guess we’ll know when I get the grade back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to really ask that but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.”

“S’alright. Just like giving you shit when I can,” another laugh from you, he can hear you moving around your room, “What do you really want to ask me? Or are you only trying to keep me on the phone to track me or something like you do to your criminals?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just it. You caught me, cariño,” he chuckles, exhaling through his nose and smiling to himself like an idiot, “But really, I do want to keep you on the phone. I like the sound of your voice….Sorry, that might have been too weird.”

“No, no, not weird. It’s sweet…” You try to hold in your smile, attempting to calm the flips your stomach is doing from hearing that from him.

“Good, that’s good. Cause I liked telling you.”

It’s another half an hour before you are finally ending the call, nails all painted and even your toes too, checking the time and following up Javi’s answer to one of your questions.

“I think I need to go to sleep. M’sorry, I have a bedtime of a child during the week,” you laugh faintly, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to apologize, angel. Get some sleep, have some nice dreams. Thanks for staying up to chat with me, sweetheart.”

“Night, Javi. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

“Can’t wait. Goodnight, angel.”

Scanning your eyes across the path down below, you easily spot Javi from your vantage point at the top of the stone stairs. He waves to you when he meets your eyes, waiting at the bottom for you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You make your way down the stairs in your muted paisley slip dress, black tights on your legs, and a shrug cardigan across your shoulders.

The staircase descends to an entrance for the San Antonio RiverWalk, a path throughout downtown lined with bars, restaurants, shops, and more. Javi had asked you here, saying he wanted to do something simple and spend time with you.

Why does he have to be so effortlessly romantic?

You are not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for him. It’s work, it’s a job.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Javi grins when you make your way over to him, dressed in jeans, a button-up, and a green jacket with tan trim. He drinks you in, reaching a hand out for you to take and pulling you closer.

“Hey, angel.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low volume straining it slightly. With so many people around, he’s desperate to keep you all to himself.

“Hi, Javi.” Your smile widens as you squeeze his hand, inching ever so slightly closer.

As soon as he smells the notes of your perfume — vanilla, jasmine, and amber — his shoulders relax and warmth spreads throughout his bloodstream. It’s soft like cashmere and comforting like a hug, even in the short time he’s been exposed to it up close. With a kiss pressed to your temple, he gets one last inhale before pulling away, nodding toward the left to start walking with you hand-in-hand.

He asks about your day and intently listens as you recount your chores from today, one of which included taking your car in for an oil change. You’re explaining how they offered to get your brake pads replaced too, keeping your car overnight, and giving you a quote of a few hundred dollars over what it should normally cost for it all.

“That’s some bullshit, cariño. Send me the number of this place and I’ll take care of it. Shouldn’t be paying that much for simple repairs.” Javi clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, dropping your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you maneuver through a crowd.

He takes your hand again once you clear the crowd, asking about your plans for Sunday. The conversation evolves as the two of you wind your way along the river, not paying much attention to how far you’re walking or anyone else around you.

“Y’know, you have the whole seventies-cool-guy-look down. Were those your golden years?” You snicker quietly as you tease him, slowly swinging your hands between you. He gives you a reprimanding look, not being able to hold it for long as his own smirk seeps in.

“You’re trouble, mi maltenida. With a capital T.” He hooks his arm closest to you over your shoulders, bringing your arm connected to his across your chest and pulling into his side. “Are you making a joke about my age, sabelotodo (smartypants)? You aren’t acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me so it must be at least tolerable to you.”

Javi nudges the side of your head with his nose, grinning through a kiss pressed to your scalp. You shrug and glance to your left at him, holding in your own smile, “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I only asked if they were your golden years. I didn’t say anything about your age or if I liked the clothes or not.”

“Sure, angel, sure. The power of intention is always there. And for the record, yeah, they were my golden years. Until now, maybe.”

Now? He must mean cause he’s a professor at a university and a retired DEA Special Agent.

Javi’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he has a small worry that you can feel his pulse with your hand in his. Listening to your footsteps click in sync against the stone path, he inhales your scent again and calms down.

He definitely feels like his time with you is pretty golden right now. What a change from what he felt like a year ago.

“Now? Enjoying your life as a professor that much?”

“Yeah, you could say that, cariño.”

The two of you had been wandering for a few hours now, chatting and drifting in and out of stores. In a bookstore, Javi insisted on getting you one of the novels that you had picked up and talked to him about wanting to read, calling you his ‘maltenida’ once again when you were protesting his purchase. Once you caved, he grinned and went to the counter himself, carrying the bag for you as you continued to walk.

“You hungry, angel? Or want to get a drink?” Javi rubs circles into your lower back, looking at you with a soft, closed smile.

“Hmm, guess I could eat, yeah. Should we walk around and find somewhere?” You start to glance around for something that catches your eye, feeling yourself being led off the path and up to a set of stairs to the street.

“Do you trust me, angel?” His voice vibrates in your chest, lips brushing against your ear and sending a tingle across your nerves.

“I trust you, Javi.”

“Good girl. M’glad to hear that,” he winks and moves his hand to take yours, interlocking your fingers, “I’ll take us somewhere you’ll love, promise.”

It’s about five minutes walk away from the river, further into downtown before Javi veers off to the left. You’re right along with him, stumbling a little to keep up with his wide gait; he slows when he notices you always a step behind, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, just excited to show you.”

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, you shake your head, “No need to apologize. The rush is keeping it all very exciting.”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his steps completely slow to a stop in front of an unsuspecting set of double doors, labeled with numbers and letters that are reminiscent of library catalogs — the nerd in you realizes that it’s the Dewey Decimal system.

“What is this place?” A confused expression contorts your face, scrunching your nose and drawing your brows together in a pinch.

“Why am I gonna ruin the surprise now, angel? C’mon, you’ll see.” Javi holds the door open for you before following you inside. A hand is kept protectively on your back over to the staircase, stacks of books that look as if they’re stolen from a library lining the walls and the wide staircase. Ascending up to the second level, you comb your eyes over the open floor plan, Javi stepping over to a host’s stand to your right.

It’s dark, warm mood lighting illuminating the space minimally. Each small table has one of those built-in desk lamps you recognize from the outdated furniture in the university library, worn and stained wooden floors and tables fill up the restaurant area. The bar is made up of old bookshelves, still filled with books at the front and every chair or stool or booth is softened leather of all different jewel tones — emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amber.

If you were to ever design a restaurant, it would surely be something like this. It's a mix of that book, paper smell with delicious food being made, and there’s a quiet hum of chatter and music that isn’t overwhelming.

It’s the “if you know, you know”, off the beaten path kind of place.

And Javi wanted to take you here. He knew you would love it, he was excited to share it with you.

Again, with the being so fucking romantic and sweet and cute. Makes you want to smack his gorgeous face and walk away from it all so you don’t have to feel these feelings.

“They’re getting a table cleared now for us, angel. Should be a few minutes, you want to sit at the bar and grab a drink?” Javi saddles up next to you, grin tugging up one side of his mouth and exposing the dimple on his right cheek.

For a minute, all you can do is take in the sight of him. Groomed brown locks with the hint of an unruly curl at the nape of his neck. Quaffed mustache, likely trimmed today for the occasion of meeting up with you. Wide, rounded soft brown eyes that are looking at you with all the patience and affection in the world. Plush, pillowy lips that sit in a constant pout and make you want to kiss them all the time.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

Why does he have to be such a good man too? Can’t he be an asshole for your sake?

“Y’alright, cariño? We can go somewhere else if you want, just thought you might like this place and—“

Cutting him off with a hand on his cheek, you smile widely, shaking your head, “I don’t wanna go, this place is wonderful. I love it….Thank you for bringing me here.”

He replicates your grin and shrugs off your gratitude, leaning in and kissing you chastely.

“Let’s go get a drink, mi maltenida.”

Javier gives you the last seat at the bar, leaning against the surface standing next to you, chest facing toward your seat and neck cranes to the side to grab the bartender’s attention. He’s got a hand on you constantly: roaming from your back over your waist and down to your hip before coasting along your thigh and doing it all in reverse. He orders for you, remembering what you got the last time you two were together and ordering his usual whiskey. After the bartender walks away, he turns to face you and his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything different. M’sorry, angel. Did you want to try something else? I’ll grab the bartender again.” He already turning away before you can answer, your hand reaching out for his that starts to extend up in a wave to the server.

“S’totally fine, Javi. Cálmate.” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your accent being pulled out for your basic Spanish knowledge, a wide grin crossing his face.

“Aye, mi maltenida sabe español? Qué? (Oh, my sugar baby knows Spanish? What?)” his voice slips easily into his accent, the words effortlessly falling off of his tongue in his first language, “Eres la mujer más hermosa del sitio. Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, cariño? (You are the most beautiful woman in the place. Can you understand what I’m saying, darling?)”

“Um, un poco? I have the most minimal understanding and am terrible at speaking. I’m in a level 200 class right now and struggling to keep up,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink once the glasses are dropped off by the bartender.

“You don’t sound half bad to me, angel. Takes some practice to really get into it, but I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with it by the end of the year,” he smirks and leans in, lips close to your ear, “Plus, I can tutor you. One-on-one. Qué te parece? Puedo enseñarte mucho más que tu profesor.”

“You’re going to have to clue me in here, Javi. No entiendo.”

“I asked ‘How does that sound?’ And then I said ‘I can teach you much more than your professor.’”

“Oh, is that right? And what would you teach me?” You match his smirk, scooting to the edge of the stool with his hand gripping your hip a bit harder than before.

“Mm, cosas sucias.” His tongue peeks out to swipe along his bottom lip as he eyes your own mouth, translating without your request. “Dirty things. You want that, angel?”

A nod from you grows his smirk before you’re fully inching closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow, sensual kiss. There’s a bit of a push and pull before he wins out the upper hand, slanting his mouth against yours with quiet exhales.

Another thing to be angry about with this man: he’s a great fucking kisser.

Javier is the first to pull away, leaving you with one last quick peck before he sips his drink, glancing over his shoulder when the host comes by to seat you both. Javi backs up, helping you off of the stool and leaving behind your empty glasses on the bar. You walk next to him, following the host to a booth toward the back. Javier takes a seat on one side of the booth, expecting you to take the other. He’s surprised when you smile shyly, stepping toward his side and sliding in next to him. Backing up toward the inside, he bites back a wild grin at your move, cheating himself toward you.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that move in the moment. But to be honest, he’s glad you’re the one who made the move.

The reassurance calms his constant buzz of nerves, relaxing him as you now look to be the shy one.

“Is this okay? Probably should’ve asked,” your voice is gentle, well-mannered as you question him. Javi scoots closer, stretching an arm onto the top of the booth behind you and circles the knuckle of his index finger featherlight on your shoulder.

“More than okay, angel. Trust me.” He can’t help the grin on his face when he leans in, kissing you lightly and feeling your own smile against his lips.

With another inhale of your perfume mixed with your shampoo, he presses a kiss to your temple before turning to the menu on the table, looking it over with you.

“Gonna get the same thing, cariño?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to try one of their specialty cocktails. They're all named after books, it’s so fun.” Glancing at him, he can see the joy in your eyes and it makes his heartbeat double, looking back to the list.

“Well, which one are you going for?”

“I think I’m gonna do the Gin Eyre. It’s got a dash of sweetener, lemon, mint, and some orange bitters it says. Sounds good.” A faint chuckle slips from your lips, combing over the list. “You should try this one, Javi. The Catcher in the Rye. S’got whiskey, and then sherry, orange liqueur, something called Torani Amer, and bitters. I think you’d like it.”

You meet his eyes and he shrugs, “I dunno know, angel. Whiskey is my favorite but I’m more of a no-frills kind of guy when it comes to my drink.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll buy you a different one if you hate it. But you can get whiskey at any bar, this place is the only place that’s gonna serve a drink named after a Salinger book,” you plead and pout your bottom lip, fluttering your lashes as Javier tries to hold out. After another moment he sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing you closer when his arm wraps around you.

“That look is pretty devious, cariño. How am I meant to say no to that?” He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together when you laugh, smirking at him with a small lift of your shoulders.

“Guess you’re not supposed to say no.”

“Mhmm, devious, mi maltenida. Devious.”

At that moment, your server comes by to take your order, you giving him the drinks and telling Javi to order whatever food looks good to him. Once everything’s put in, you turn back to him while he leans into the corner of the booth, gently coaxing you closer.

“So if you’re gonna be my tutor, can you answer one question I have?”

“Course I can, ask away.”

“What does ‘mi maltenida’ mean? I’ve heard you say it a few times to me but I have no idea what it means but it sounds bad cause it’s got ‘mal’ in it.” Fingertips graze along his thigh closest to you, his arm around your lower waist coasting up and down your side a few inches.

“S’not bad, necessarily. Sure, it probably has a negative connotation in some circumstances but I mean it as something cute,” he clears his throat and pauses the roaming of his fingers, “Mi maltenida is my sugar baby.”

“Javi! I don’t wanna be called that, that sounds so bad.” Arms crossed in front of your chest, your touch leaves his thigh and you move to face forward with a pout.

“Hey, cariño, I said it didn't mean anything bad. I mean it as a term of affection. You’re so sweet and I like reminding you.”

“Doesn’t feel sweet. It literally has the word bad in the spelling of the word.” You pout more, and when Javi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turns your face up to see genuine upset in your eyes.

“M’sorry, cariño, I was just teasing when I started calling you that. I won’t anymore, promise.”

“Is there something better out there? I like being something to you, just not something like that…” you trail off, not bothering to repeat the translated words. They make you feel dirty, like your feelings in your chest and your stomach right now, your nerves and excitement around this man, aren’t genuine when you reduce your relationship down to that. It makes you feel icky, that dark turn of your insides tugging the corners of your lips down.

“Hmm, what about mi bebita? That sound better to you?”

“What’s that mean? Little baby? I don’t know about th—“

“Babygirl. My babygirl,” Javi kisses the corner of your lips, his own smile peeking through. The press of his lips trails along your jaw and to your ear, until he can speak to you with a low, reverberating roll of his voice, “You wanna be my bebita? Would that make you happy?”

His voice is spreading heat along your neck and down your spine, settling in a syrupy pool between your legs. A languid nod rolls your head, Javi’s fingers once again turning your chin to face him.

“Can I hear you say it, please?”

A quiet clear of your throat pulls your voice back, responding to his request, “I wanna be your bebita.”

He hums with a satisfied smirk, closing the gap between you two to press a light kiss to your lips. Pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips, his hand drops to the top of your thigh and rubs gentle circles toward your center.

“Such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you, bebita? That’s all I wanna do for you. Whatever you want, bebita, you can have from me.”

Underneath the skirt of your dress, you can feel your panties sticking to the wetness gathering there. As you’re nearly about to spread your legs and let him have you right there, the server returns with your drinks and food.

Javi pulls away from you, hand on your thigh possessively when the waiter checks you out from his higher vantage point. The burn of his stare crosses over your chest and your legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. The lick of his lips instantly makes you feel like prey, turning into the booth toward Javi to hide yourself even a little bit. At the discomfort of the wandering pair of eyes on you, your legs cross at your thighs and trap Javi’s hand there, one of your own holding onto his wrist.

There’s a clipped ‘thank you’ from your man at the table once everything is delivered, dismissing the younger guy and slipping his hand from between your thighs. There’s no acknowledgement made of the moment, only Javi running his hand across your back soothingly and picking up conversation about something else, immediately taking your mind off of the uncomfortable interaction.

Turns out you were right, and Javi loves the drink you asked him to get. The two of you share both of them, enjoying the picky bits that Javi chose from the menu. Conversation is easy, as always, and the room falls away around you as you get wrapped up in each other.

A small tug in his gut brings him to ask, “Did you draw in class a few weeks ago?”

You pause your search for the perfect fry, looking up at Javi with your hand frozen, “Uh, yeah, I think so….I kind of doodle in every class, it helps me focus. I can stop if—“

“No, no need. I was asking cause, well, I found one of your drawings after class a few weeks ago. It was at the desk you use and it was of me, I think.”

A quiet groan rolls from your throat, shoulders slumping as you shake your head and resume your fry search.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you threw it out.”

“No, fuck no. I kept it. Sits in my desk drawer and I take it out whenever m’thinking about you. Think it’s cute that I was your muse for the day,” he chuckles with a wide grin, leaning into the corner and admiring you with tender eyes.

“You kept it? As in, you still have it? Why? We weren’t even really anything back when I did that.”

“Told you, bebita, got a big ol’ crush on you.”

It’s another couple of hours and only a few drinks later that the bartender makes their rounds to announce closing. Your conversation took most of your attention for the evening, gently taking Javi’s wrist and checking the time on his watch.

“God, I didn’t even realize how late it was. Feels like it’s only been like an hour since we got here,” you laugh quietly as Javi signs the check, leaning over and pressing a supple kiss to his lips, “Thank you for tonight.”

A couple more kisses are shared before he leans back, smiling softly at you, “Thank you, bebita. I really like spending time with you.”

You slip out of the booth first and watch as Javi stands, groaning quietly before his hands find you again, wrapping you up close to him as you both make your way out of the bar.

“You need a ride home, angel?”

A tingle settles in the back of your neck, blossoming across your whole body as you look at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ that maybe we could keep tonight going. Maybe you could show me your place?” Eyebrows raised, you wait for his response as it slowly registers for him, an eager nod bobbing his head up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. My place.”

Javier knows he drove as if he was in the streets of Colombia again; speeding when he could and on the edge of his seat, nerves fried from the excitement and adrenaline he felt.

But there isn’t a part of him that regrets it, opening the door to his apartment and letting you in ahead of him. You glance around the space, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter next to you as he walks up behind you after locking the door.

Hooking his arms around your waist, you turn around to face him, biting back you grin as he meets your eyes. Fingertips coast across your back, palms moving to your hips and tugging you to press against him.

“What d’ya think of the place, hm?”

“S’nice. But you haven’t given me a tour, wanna see your room.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you, bebita.” He smirks as he meets your lips with his in a heavy kiss, hands at your hips gripping tighter and starting to walk you backward. A muffled whimper parts your lips enough for him to lick into your mouth, both moaning as your tongues meld together. All the way back to his bedroom, he hasn’t taken his lips from yours. Crossing the threshold, he pulls his lips away, trailing heady kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You stretch back and gasp with a sharp inhale as he bites at the base of your neck, nipping and soothing the marks with his tongue. A glance around his room proves you right from your guesses about how he keeps his space: minimal decoration, one or two photos strewn around, and warm wooden furniture with dark toned bedding and soft furnishings. It’s welcoming, but a bit sad that he doesn’t have much expression. The difference between his and your place is a bit astounding.

What will he think when he sees yours?

When he sees yours? God, no one has ever been to yours out of all your arrangements and with one night with him you’re going to already be calling him to come over.

It feels a bit out of your control at the moment, your imagination running wild with feelings that are tamped down inside. Something snaps back into place in your mind, closing that part off and begging you to get some control of the situation. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you pull him out from the crook of your neck, smirking at him and kissing him, leading with much more fervor than before.

He bends to your guide, letting you lead him back to his bed, sitting down at the edge when his knees hit the mattress. Pawing at your waist, hips, and grabbing handfuls of your ass, Javi groans against your lips and pulls away only enough to speak.

“Can I take this pretty dress off, angel?”

You nod, a soft ‘yes’ breathed out in response before the material is being pulled over your head and tossed to the side along with the small shrug cardigan you were wearing. Javi’s eyes drink in your body greedily, standing before him in some off-white lingerie. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, hands moving of their own volition as they run over your curves and thighs, settling under the cups holding up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, bebita. Did you wear this for me?” Hands squeeze your breasts over the lace, a whimper involuntarily sounding at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thought you would like it.”

“Mm, I love it, mi bebita. But I want to take this off of you, can I? I wanna see you, amante.” The band of your bra guides him around to your back, fingers tracing over the clasp.

“You have to take this off then.” You tug on his button up under the jacket he still has on, letting him unclasp your bra and slide it down your arms to discard where your dress ended up. Before he can make any move for your newly bare skin, you lift your arms and start to unbutton his shirt. Javi shrugs off his jacket while you work his buttons, grabbing you by the swell of your ass and pulling you down to straddle his denim covered bulge.

“God, babygirl, wanted you so bad. Y’know I couldn’t get my dirty thoughts about you out of my head, every single class,” his voice gets muffled as he nibbles at the crook of your neck again, making you giggle smugly.

“Is that right? What would you think about?” The last button slips through the hole, allowing you to push the fabric off of his shoulders and leaving it to fall back onto the bed. Your own hands roam across his sturdy, solid chest and broad shoulders, down to his soft tummy. Leaning in, your own lips work at his jaw, starting a slow roll of your hips against his hardness.

“Fuck…” he exhales before his head falls back, voice rumbling from his chest and coated with arousal, “Thought about—Thought about what kind of sounds you’d make for me, if you tasted as sweet as you act…Thought many, many times about what that mouth of yours would look like around my cock…”

Even his words cause you to whimper, chastising yourself internally for the hold he has on you. Peeling yourself away, you stand up in front of him, folding over to kiss him sweet and slow before you drop to your knees.

“I can show you what it looks like, Javi, if you want.”

No one else has made you ever feel like this, and it is terrifying.

And you’re going to whatever you can to disarm this feeling inside of you.

“Oh, hell yes — I mean, yes, please. Quiero verlo, por favor (I want to see it, please).” Javi can hear how desperate he sounds in the moment, aching for some relief and salivating over the view of you on your knees in front of him.

Inching closer, you spread his legs apart to settle between them. Featherlight kisses pressed against his thighs and up to his crotch, shuddering out a breath as your lips ghost along the outline of his cock. You rub your cheek against the bulge, whining to yourself before nimble fingers open his belt buckle, pop the button and drag the zipper down on his jeans. He helps you out by lifting his hips, your hands hooking together his jeans and briefs to tug them down to his ankles.

Javier kicks one of his ankles out, looking down at you, licking your lips and smiling up at him. His brain short circuits as he watches you move your head over his cock, dribbling saliva onto it before wrapping your hand around and starting slow, teasing strokes.

“Knew you were a pretty man, but you really are pretty everywhere,” he exhales sharply when your thumb circles the head of his cock, shaking his head at your devious smirk.

“Y’like it, bebita? S’all yours. Lemme feel that little mouth of yours.”

On the next downstroke you make, you flick your tongue against his tip before taking it in your mouth. He shudders out a quiet moan, keeping his eyes glued to you as you take a few more of his inches and swirl your tongue around him.

“You look even better than I imagined sucking my cock, angel. Fucking hell, babygirl, jus’like that.” He exhales content when you have most of him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out. Your hand continues to work around the base of him, a rhythm being built with the bobbing of your head.

“Mm, such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, bebita, feels so good…” Javi’s hands itch to touch you, one running down the column of your throat before it snakes around to the nape of your neck. The other brushes baby hairs from your face, smirking down at you. “Think you can handle all of me, angel? Your mouth feels so fucking good, I want all of it. Want to feel me hit right here…”

His words are punctuated with the hand at your hair trailing down to your throat, gently running his thumb back and forth over the center of it.

“Can you take it? Be my good little slut?”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this scenario and been called something of the sort, but it is definitely the first time that the words shoot straight to your cunt, flooding between your legs. A whimper is stifled around his cock and his eyebrow quirks, hand petting at the back of your neck.

“Does mi bebita like being called my little slut? Mi zorrita (My little slut)? Knew you were gonna be so good at sucking my cock when I first saw you in your little plaid skirt and that tight fucking t-shirt of yours. And with those glossy plush lips of yours. You wanted to get my attention didn’t you?”

In response, you hum and take him all, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You hold back a gag, tears filling your eyes as you breathe through your nose and dig your nails into his thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yeah jus’like, angel. Oh, so good for me, bebita. So fucking good.” Javi’s hips jerk off the bed, pushing him further into your throat and hitting harder at the back of it. You really gag around him, the sensation causing a loud moan from him and his head rolling back. The hand at your neck clutches tighter, thrusts of his hips moving him subtly.

With a vice grip on his thighs, nearly drawing blood, he stills and you pull off for a breath. Heavy inhales and exhales fill your lungs with air as he pets your head while you stroke his cock covered in your spit.

“Y’okay, mi bebita?” When you nod and sigh out a tiny ‘yes’, he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs it open once your breathing is steadied. “You gonna keep being my perfect, sweet slut for me, angel? You’re such a good girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mhm, I wanna make you come, Javi. Please.”

With a dark chuckle he nods, one hand stilling yours on his length and guiding it back to your open mouth, “G’head, bebita, be a good girl and make me come.”

Your need to please him clicks on, eagerly licking up the underside of him as you stroke him faster. Getting as close as you can, you take one of his balls in your mouth, rolling your tongue around before giving the same attention to the other and releasing it with a pop. Above you, Javi’s chest is moving quickly with deep breaths, some moans slipping out when it feels too good.

You take all of him again, swallowing around him and gagging, taking all the small thrusts he jerks out. Tears fall down your cheeks and he whispers praises in the same breaths as the filthiest things, all of it making the ache between your thighs worse.

Fuck him for making you so fucking turned on you’re going to have to fuck your vibrator when you get home.

“Mhm, yeah, good girl. Fuck, m’close, angel, keep going. Please, oh shit, yeah—”His own adlibs are interrupted by his loud, rumbling moan as he holds your head and starts to come. Ropes of his release fill your mouth, Javi gently pulling his cock out and you closing your mouth to keep it all in.

“Lemme see, bebita, wanna see you with my come in your mouth.” His voice is breathy as he recovers, jaw dropping slightly open in awe when you show him. Rolling it on your tongue he swipes the few beads that leaked out and sticks his thumb in between your lips. “Swallow.”

Following his orders, you swallow all of his spend, catching your breath when he pulls his thumb from your mouth. You pat his thighs and stand, taking one step to go put on your dress when his hand reaches out to stop you, holding your hip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His brows knit together, mouth tugged down at the corners. You look at him equally confused, turning toward him and point to your clothes.

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Cause you finished?”

“What?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?”

“What d’you mean ‘cause you finished’?”

“I mean, thought we were done here. Unless you want me to stay until you can go again…?”

“Angel, respectfully, what the hell are you on about? Why the hell would I let you leave my fucking room, let alone my apartment and go home, and not have gotten the chance to even touch you?”

You stutter for a moment, taken aback by his adamant questioning. Never has this happened before with any of your other clients, normally getting them off with your mouth or by fucking them, but never did they want you to stick around for them to make you come.

“Bebita, beautiful, may I please taste you? Been dreaming about it for weeks…”

“Um, I do want you to but you don’t have to feel obligated. I mean normally it doesn’t happen—”

There’s that same flash of anger in his chest that he’s felt with you before, too jaded to be able to see what you’re really worth.

Fucking golden, that’s what you are. Any man who’s been with you, arranged or not, should be so fucking lucky to see you come undone.

“Okay, fuck whoever has made you feel like you don’t deserve that. I don’t feel obligated or anything of the sort, I want to. I’m begging, bebita, please, let me make you feel good.” His hands run up and down from your thighs to your hips, Javi looking up at you from his seat on the bed with those rounded, softened puppy eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Javi, if you ask again, I will actually get dres—“

“No, nope, no. I’ll shut up, just c’mere.” His hands palm your ass, toying with the lace of your panties and moving you between his legs. Kisses are peppered on your abdomen, blowing his breath across your skin and raising goosebumps. His nose presses into your skin as he gently nips and sucks and soothes different spots; your fingers run through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“Javi…”

“So soft, angel,” he hums, vibrations sent across your torso before he’s standing, turning you both around quickly and guiding you back onto the bed, “Lay back, bebita. M’gonna take care of you.”

There’s a stirring in your gut, nerves high as you scoot back on his mattress. Javi climbs over you, crowding you back against the duvet as he catches your lips with his. Heady kisses are exchanged, one of his large hands coming to your chest and squeezing gently before he pulls off of your mouth and latches his lips to your pebbled nipple.

A whimper cuts out in your throat, holding back as much as you can to stay quiet. Javi mirrors his actions on your other breast before scooting down your abdomen, littering kisses until he settles between your legs. Two of his fingers hook in your panties, pulling them off of you and tossing them aside. Awe fills his eyes as he spreads your folds, licking his lips hungrily.

“Made such a mess, angel. Fucking drenched for me. You were gonna leave all riled up like this, bebita?” His tongue tsks behind his teeth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Such a good, perfect girl like you doesn’t deserve to have to take care of herself. That’s what I’m here for, cariño.”

Your response catches in your throat when his fingers rub circles into your clit, smirk raising on his face when your own contorts with pleasure. The heel of his palm takes over when his thick fingers tease your entrance, one slowly filling you up and thrusting in and out at a lazy pace.

More wetness pools between your legs, seeping from your cunt and allows Javi to add a second finger, the slight stretch making you wiggle below him. His eyes are glued to your pussy, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers fucking your tight hole, spreading and opening his fingers for a wide stretch.

Javi folds over, saliva coating his mouth as he dives for a taste of you, mouth attaching to your clit and sucking gently.

More whimpers leave your mouth involuntarily as pressure builds inside, Javi pulling away only to acknowledge your feelings.

“I know, bebita, I know. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Obscene noises, lewd and wanton, fill the room as his fingers fuck into the wetness seeping out of your cunt. It’s all you can hear as you hold in your own noises, feeling like if you opened your mouth, his neighbors would think he was making a porno.

His attention is focused back on your pussy, thrusting his fingers into you a tiny bit faster and sucking your clit harder. Your hands clutch the top of his hair, tugging and pulling as he brings you to the edge, pathetically quickly to you, but it’s been a long time since someone else has touched you with such an attentive attitude.

A satisfied hum is felt against your folds, suckling noises filling the air as Javi attempts to drink all that you have to offer him.

“Taste so fucking good, angel. Like heaven.”

His mouth and fingers don’t leave you after the first one; the sight of you coming undone for him flipped something inside, and he is desperate to see it again. He moves faster this time, building off of what he’s already learned you like from him. Fingers hook against that spot inside of you, jerking your hips up off the bed as his tongue flicks over your clit, licking like a kitten lapping milk.

Still burning from your first orgasm, your hands tangled in his hair attempt to pull him away from your cunt, desperate for a break as new pressure, more intense than the first go-round, floods inside of you and makes every muscle ache. Javi grunts at your attempts, his free hand gathering both of your weakened wrists in one grip and pressing them into your lower abdomen. The press from both sides, hands on your stomach and fingers inside of you, adds to the tangible tension covering you.

His fingers and tongue swap, licking into your entrance and fucking you on his mouth with his nose nudging your clit. A finger teases your tighter hole, muscle contracting and breath caught in your throat as he repeats all of the motions over and over.

As your second orgasm builds inside of you, a tight coil winding around and around in your gut, you attempt to hold in your sounds. You think, because in the past it’s been all about your client’s pleasure, you need to stay quiet, letting Javi do whatever he wants to you without an interruption from you.

Attempting to stay quiet for him, you writhe under him, his grip on your wrists tightening as you try to lessen the stimulation from him between your legs. Pleasure blankets your body, tiny sobs wracking your body as you try to let your moans die in your throat. Javi feels the convulsions of your abdomen, hearing the little sounds from you and pulling his mouth away to look at you properly.

Brows furrowed, skin sheened with sweat and frustration evident in your expression and tension from the stimulation he’s giving you. The two fingers that were inside of you move up to press in between your lips, hooking his fingers behind your bottom teeth and opening your mouth.

“Oh, baby, feels good, yeah? Your body wants you to make some noise, huh? Moans, whimpers?” Your whines answer him enough, fingers still holding your mouth open. “Don’t hold back. Want you to be fucking loud for me, bebita. Wanna hear you. Hear those pretty sounds you make when you fall apart on my tongue.”

He slinks down your body again, replacing his fingers inside of you with his muscular tongue, fucking in and out of you at an agonizing pace. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit twists your insides tighter and tighter, unable to hold back your sounds anymore.

Whimpers lift your chest up and down shallowly, Javi’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer. Without your hands to hold him closer, you lift your hips and grind against your mouth, gasping at the vibration of his own moan against your cunt.

“Javi, oh my god, please. Need a little bit more, please.” You beg, wiggling under him and being pressed into the mattress by his hand gripping your wrists against your stomach.

The second time around comes much quicker, your push clenching around his tongue as you come, whining from the pleasure melting into your muscles.

“Fuck, Javi…” you say with a sigh, lifting up to look at him still between your legs. His fingers coast along your dripping folds, sensitivity jerking your hips and thighs as he smirks smugly at the sight. Greed fills his eyes when he meets your gaze, licking his lips as he kisses the curls on your mound.

“One more.”

“Javi, I don’t think—“

“One more, bebita, por favor. Please.”

His tongue swipes over your clit, gathering your wetness and swirling the muscle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. A kiss pressed there makes a whine leave your mouth, encouragement for him to start playing with your pussy again.

“You can do it for me, bebita. One more and that’s it.” Two of his fingers easily slip inside of you from your come coating your folds, a languid and lazy pace building up to something more steady as your whines and whimpers grow louder.

“Yeah, tell me about it, baby. How good does it feel?”

“So—so good. Can’t even, fuck, can’t even think straight.”

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Relax, bebita, I’m gonna take care of you again.”

The pace he built is plateaued to build your stimulation before he picks up more speed. His two fingers move quickly, hooking inside of you to press against that spot inside of you repeatedly. His tongue on your clit circles in sync, your mind solely on the sensations he’s providing you. The rest of your body is heavy from the two previous orgasms, unable to fight the overstimulation as he fucks his thick fingers into you at a delicious pace.

An overwhelming warm feeling drops to your pelvic area, feeling familiar and putting you on edge as you try to get him to release your hands to try to push his face away when Javi adds his tongue to your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, Javi! Stop I’m gonna — Oh my god, it feels different, feels like—like I’m gonna pee.”

His fingers continue as he pulls his mouth away to rumble out his words, coated in arousal.

“S’okay, bebita, just trust me. Relax, baby, let it happen.”

His voice is gentle and reassuring, skepticism still present as you focus on the pleasure again, burning hot in your torso. Your body relaxes again, his hand pressing your wrist into your lower stomach and fingers hitting the roughened spot inside of you while sobs wrack your body.

Pleasure blinds you as it finally overtakes, his name erupting from your chest in a moan. A warm, liquid feeling spreads across your body, feeling a much more intense release that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, flipping your hands over in Javi’s to hold him tightly.

Opening up your eyes again, you look down your body to Javi lifting his head from between your legs, damp across the lower half of his face and the same glistening on his neck. You wiggle again feeling a large wet spot under you and immediately feeling your stomach drop when you realize what happened.

“Mierda, bebita. So fucking sexy. Doing that for me the first time, m’gonna wanna be greedy and see you do it every time now.” You hide your face in your hands, shaking your head and feeling heat spread across your face and neck.

“I’ve never—” you barely manage to breathe out the two words, Javi leaning his head on your thigh as he stays mesmerized by the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Nuh uh, angel, don’t be shy. Fucking loved it.” He turns to press a kiss on your inner thigh, nuzzling his nose against the pillowy skin.

There’s no thoughts in your head, no words in your mind as you catch your breath following your last orgasm. Your chest heaves, quick inhales to fill your lungs and replenish the oxygen in your blood to get your brain started again.

Clarity spreads in your consciousness, hearing Javi’s voice from between your legs, “What do you say, bebita?”

Brows knit together, you move to sit up and support yourself on your hands, you sigh out as you look down at him. “Huh?”

“Where are your manners, angel? What do you say?” Awaiting your response, he punctuates his question with a swipe of his tongue over your ultra sensitive clit, making your thighs quiver and hips attempt to jerk away from his hold.

Attempting to follow his questioning, you take another second before timidly saying, “Thank you?”

“That’s my good girl.” His smirk grows as he climbs over you again, kissing you gently. A tender look filled with affection faces you, Javi gently running his fingers over your skin. Silence falls between you two before you’re nodding for him to stand, getting off of his bed and looking around for your underwear.

“Um, d’you wanna stay? You can if you’d like to. I mean, I’d like you to if you’re comfortable with it. Jus’thought you might wanna cause it’s late.”

You want to. You definitely want to.

But you shouldn’t. You can’t.

That’s a far more personal line, an intimacy of falling asleep with him and waking up in the morning that has your heart pumping but your mind yelling at you that this is still your job, no matter what feelings are involved.

“Oh, um, next time? I have so much to do in the morning and I have a feeling if I stayed, I probably wouldn’t go home until Monday.” You smile sweetly at him, stepping into your panties and grabbing your bra off the floor.

Javi chuckles and nods, stepping over to you and hooking his arms behind your back. “Probably right about that, angel.”

You give him a peck and reach behind you to clasp your bra, adjusting the straps to your shoulders. Javi steps away from you, grabbing his briefs and jeans, starting to gets dressed himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“To drive you home?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus or a cab.”

“You’re not taking anything besides a ride in my car from me. S’late and I’m not letting you go home alone.”

“Really, Javi, you don’t have to drive me. I can manage.”

Why is he so stubborn?

You attempt to ignore the warmth his protectiveness is blanketing you in, shoving it all into the neat little box you’re attempting to keep everything Javi in.

He watches as you pick up your dress, sighing to himself and shaking his head as he finds himself wishing you would stay tonight. But if you aren’t staying, there’s no way in hell he was letting you walk out the door without him in tow to get you home safely. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight otherwise, but if he told you that, he thinks you’d be out the door before he could blink.

Why are you so stubborn?

“I know you can. I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else. Sorry, bebita, but m’not arguing with you.” He zips and buttons his jeans before reaching for a white t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling it over his head as you put your dress back on along with your sweater.

“Okay, okay. You can drive me if it makes you feel better.” You finish fixing your clothes and start to head toward the front door to get your bag and shoes. Before you can leave his room, his arm blocks your way out of the doorway, you turning your head to face him.

“It would make me feel better. Thank you, baby.” He smiles subtly, trying to get a grin out of you and succeeding. Heartbeats run at the same speeds in your chests, unknowingly, as you take a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Within the next second, Javi kisses you one last time before dropping his arm and following you out of his room. Both of you get your shoes on, you grabbing your bag and heading out of his apartment and to his car.

The engine cuts in front of your building, Javi jumping out before you can say goodnight and circling around the hood of the car to open the passenger side door. He shuts it behind you and takes your hand, looking both ways before leading you across the street. Standing behind you, closest to the street, as you unlock the three flat’s front door, you take his hand this time, pulling him inside and up the stairs. At the second floor, you slow in front of your door and turn around to him, biting your bottom lip as he gives you a sleepy grin.

“Thank you for letting me bring you home safe. Now I might be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, “And thank you for coming out with me tonight. Really enjoyed myself, bebita.”

“I enjoyed myself too, Javi. Thank you for tonight. Like, really, thank you.” You double down, the message received from the repeated ‘thanks’ that are insinuating your gratitude for how the two of you ended the night.

“My pleasure, angel.” He laughs with you, quietly as to not disturb your neighbors before he tugs you into his chest, tilting his chin in to kiss you sweetly.

You pout when he pulls away first, grinning when he pecks your pushed out lips.

“Goodnight, mi bebita. I’ll call you tomorrow? See how all the homework’s coming along?” He smirks as he taps your ass, unraveling from you to let you unlock your door.

“Night, Javi. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, angel. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, both of you turn away on either side of the door; you head to your room and he heads back to his car, both replaying the night over and over again, having the same thought:

This is different from anything else before.

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captainremmington-13 · 8 months ago

Text

Cold

A Bellova x Coriolanus One-Shot

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova, Drusilla, and Oliveria. I also do not condone the beliefs or actions of Coriolanus or Bellova.

Summary: Gym class gets heated in a multitude of ways.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: swearing, violence, mentions of injury, allusions to sex, slut shaming, bullying(?)

A/n: This takes place one school years before TBOSAS occurs, (the equivalent of their junior year of high school). Also, I HIGHLY recommend you catch up on my series, A Lady Made of Snow, before reading this.

“Damn, Plinth, how are you so good at this?”

Sejanus laughed, releasing his hands from the metal bar and landing solidly on his feet. “I train at home when I have free time. Pa always said that a man’s strength is split between physicality and mentality.”

Bellova rolled her eyes playfully. “I wouldn’t know, my father always said that brains are far more valuable than brawn.”

Sejanus walked over to the bench where she was sitting and picked up his gym towel, dabbing it across his forehead to rid it of sweat. “Your turn, Bellova.”

She sighed, tightening the neat ponytail that kept her long black hair out of her face. She would much rather be working on that history essay that was assigned this morning. But for now, she had to do as many pull-ups as she could in one minute while Sejanus held a timer.

At least she excelled in gym class. Professor Aggrippina Sickle consistently praised her for her skills. She was flexible, strong, and nimble, all the traits needed to make a quality athlete. Though she didn’t hate the physical education period, it wasn’t exactly her favorite. Sickle worked every student hard, pushing them to their limits.

About ten pull-ups in, Bellova saw Coriolanus walk up to Sejanus, taking a seat next to him. This was quite unusual, it was usually Sejanus who initiated conversations, not the other way around.

Clearly, Coriolanus was up to no good.

As soon as the timer in Sejanus’s hand went off, Bellova let go of the bar and strode towards the two boys. Their gym clothes consisted of a loose tank top and shorts, which were mainly academy red with a hint of gold near the edges of the fabric. They weren’t very flattering, but Sejanus and Coriolanus still managed to look good. If their lives had played out differently, she would’ve been quite flustered being so physically close to them.

The girl’s clothes were slightly better in Bellova’s opinion. The tank tops were similar to the boys’, but instead of shorts, they had skirts with built-in shorts underneath.

The only thing Bellova didn’t like about them was the stares she got as soon as she walked out of the girl’s locker room.

Bellova only stopped walking when she was inches from Coriolanus’s legs. “Get up, I was sitting here earlier.”

The blond rolled his eyes. “I’m not an Avox, you can’t just order me around.”

Instead of continuing to bicker, Bellova simply turned around and placed herself in between her two classmates.

Sejanus and Coriolanus exchanged glances, but didn’t attempt to shoo her away. They knew that if they did, they’d each walk away with painful bruises.

“I’m so fucking bored,” Bellova complained, inspecting her nails for any signs of damage. “I wish that Professor Sickle didn’t make us stay here until everyone is done with her drills. I could have gotten started on the history project, or that essay that was assigned this morning.”

“The essay should be easy,” Sejanus said. “Professor Click said it only needed to be two pages long.”

Bellova shrugged. “True, but you know I love to go above and beyond.”

Sejanus looked up at the clock that hung just above the gymnasium doors. “Well, the period ends in two minutes, you won’t have to wait much longer.”

“Good,” Bellova said, turning to Coriolanus to give him a snide look. “Both of you desperately need showers.”

Coriolanus scowled back. “You have no concept of manners.”

“And you think you do?”

“Watch it,” Coriolanus spat. “Or I’ll-“

His threat was promptly cut off when he noticed a girl storming up to them.

“Oliviera,” Bellova said, giving her a sickly sweet smile. “How can I help you?”

The girl in question glanced at Coriolanus, then Sejanus, and finally locked gazes with Bellova again.

“Whoring yourself out again, I see.”

Bellova looked shocked, which was a rare sight to behold. “Excuse me?”

“First you fucked Felix, and now these two?”

Coriolanus watched, speechless, as Bellova’s face turned pink. “What the hell are you talking about? I went to the gala with him at the end of the last school year, and that was it. We never even dated.”

“Oh, please,” Oliviera said smugly. “You obviously slept with him. I saw you get in his father’s limousine and head towards the Presidential Palace. Tell me, why did you do it?”

“You’re a fucking liar,” Bellova hissed. “I slept in my own bed that night, thank you very much. Coriolanus can vouch for me, he was there when my car arrived.”

Bellova shot Coriolanus a look, as if to say ‘back me up.’

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah I was.”

Bellova bit back a grin, trying to conceal her relief that he had actually helped her out.

“Now that that’s settled,” she began, giving Oliviera a sharp glare. “Don’t ever ask about my personal life again. In fact, don’t even fucking speak to me, or I’ll ruin you and your family.”

Oliviera’s pale, pointed face contorted into an expression of rage. She raised her right hand, ready to strike Bellova across the face.

“Woah,” Sejanus said, instinctively placing an arm in front of Bellova. “Leave her alone, Oliviera. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“Sejanus, I can handle this,” Bellova snapped, standing up abruptly.

“Bellova,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her wrist. “Don’t. You’ll get in trouble with Professor Sickle.”

Bellova pulled out of his grip, giving him a warning look. “Don’t get in my way, Coryo. Trust me, you’ll wanna stay out of th-“

Oliviera suddenly grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her forward, promptly cutting her off.

Bellova screamed, causing every head in the room to turn to her. Oliviera harshly tugged on her ebony locks once more, and delivered a mediocre but effective punch to her cheek.

“Get off of me!” Bellova cried, trying to push her assailant away.

Sejanus was the first one to come to Bellova’s aid, freeing her from Oliviera’s iron grip. Coriolanus found himself standing up as well, grabbing Bellova by the shoulders gently and moving her several feet away from the other girl.

She was deadly silent, which frightened Coriolanus slightly. He was worried that her rage was building up, and that he’d be the target when it finally boiled over.

Professor Sickle was now rushing over to where Sejanus and Oliviera stood. She demanded an explanation from Oliviera, but she refused to speak. Instead, Sejanus told the professor what had happened, but left out all of the sensitive information.

Bellova could hear Professor Sickle scolding Oliviera, and didn’t even try to bite back her grin. The bitch was going to get what she deserved.

Oliviera ordered to go to the dean’s office, so she headed out of the gymnasium, dragging her feet. Then, the professor approached Coriolanus and Bellova.

“Are you alright, Miss Reginelle?” she asked, gently moving Bellova’s hair out of the way to reveal the bruise forming on her cheek. “Oh dear, we need to get some ice on that. Mister Snow, can you take her to the nurse’s office while I dismiss the rest of the class?”

Coriolanus nodded, and beckoned for Bellova to follow him. She did so reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.

The walk to the school infirmary was…tense, to say the least. Bellova held a hand up to her cheek, covering the purple and blue mark on her face. As they passed by, several Academy students gave them strange looks.

They weren’t used to seeing them within a foot of each other and not arguing.

Coriolanus pretended to ignore it, but it bothered him. He didn’t like feeling judged. He also hated rumors, as they were beyond his control.

But he kept walking, keeping his gaze straightforward as he and Bellova approached their destination. He refused to let her or anyone else know he was perturbed by the attention they were receiving.

Finally, Coriolanus spotted the infirmary doors. Politely opening them for Bellova, he followed behind her once she’d entered the room.

“Miss Drusilla,” Coriolanus began, approaching the middle-aged woman dressed in white who was sitting behind a desk. “Bellova was attacked during gym class. She needs a cold press for her face, and perhaps some ointment to help with the swelling.”

Bellova was quickly ushered into a plus chair by Miss Drusilla, and instructed to stay put until she returned with the ice. Coriolanus stood next to her, feeling quite awkward. What was there to say?

He cleared his throat. “I’m surprised that you didn’t really fight back.”

Bellova sighed. “I wanted to pin the attack solely on Oliviera. I don’t want any blemishes on my academic record.” She gave him a wry smile. “That would give you a leg up, and I can’t have that, can I?”

He laughed. “Of course. You’d never give me the upper hand willingly.”

She gave him a cheeky grin that very nearly made him blush. “You know me so well.”

Coriolanus expression then turned more serious, his pink lips curling downwards slightly. “But seriously, that girl was out of her mind.”

“She’s a jealous bitch, always has been,” Bellova said. “She desperately wants to get laid, and thinks that I’m stealing boys away from her or something ridiculous like that.”

“Ah.” Coriolanus never quite understood the reasoning behind girls’ rampant jealousy. Wouldn’t it be simpler to just focus on themselves? He supposed he’d never really know.

Bellova sighed, turning her head away from Coriolanus. She thought back to what Oliviera had said right after claiming she’d had sex with Felix Ravinstill.

She accused Bellova of sleeping with Coriolanus and Sejanus. And, even worse, she implied she’d fucked them both at the same time.

It was an absurd assumption, really. Everyone knew that Bellova had a less-than-healthy relationship with the Snow heir. They exchanged horrible insults, and went out of their way to provoke each other. There were some times, like now, where there was peace between them. But those moments were becoming rarer as time passed on.

It was obvious that she wasn’t extremely fond of Sejanus Plinth either. He was a nice boy, but he was district. If he hasn’t been born in District Two, she would have considered him a close friend. Bellova couldn’t be too closely associated with him, or people would talk.

Miss Drusilla returned with a small bag full of ice and a small jar. She placed the bag in Bellova’s hands. “Keep that on your face for about ten minutes, and then apply the ointment after.”

Bellova nodded, doing as she was told. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

“Of course, dear.” The nurse then turned to Coriolanus. “You can head to your next class, Mister Snow.”

He nodded, and looked at the injured girl before him. “See you tomorrow.”

She didn’t reply, simply giving him a small nod, half of her face hidden by the ice.

The bruise was painful, but the cold demeanor that Coriolanus gave her somehow hurt even more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the phone in Bellova’s room rang, she immediately picked it up. She assumed either Persephone or Lysistrata wanted to check in her. After all, they were there when the incident took place, but were on the opposite side do the gym when it occurred.

“Hey,” she said into the speaker, her tone casual and relaxed.

“Hello, this is Bellova, right?”

Her body tensed immediately. It was Coryo.

“How did you get my number?”

Bellova winced. She hasn’t meant to come off so aggrssively, but when she was caught off-guard, it happened naturally.

“Sejanus,” he answered simply.

“Ah.”

Fuck, this was awkward. Bellova took a deep breath, and then spoke again.

“Why exactly are you calling me?”

“I just…wanted to check in with you. I assume the bruise will heal up soon?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “As long as I keep icing it and applying that ointment Drusilla gave me, it will be gone in a week or so.”

“Good,” Coriolanus said stiffly. “I also wanted to inform you that after you left the campus, I found out that Oliviera was suspended for two weeks as a consequence for her actions. When she returns, she’ll be closely supervised.”

Bellova rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t seem harsh enough. But if she fucks with me again, she’ll really get what was coming to her.”

Coriolanus’s laugh rang in her ear, and she found herself grinning like an idiot. Quickly forcing the smile to fade, she added, “I appreciate you backing me up earlier.”

“Of course,” he replied. “It was the right thing to do.”

“Careful, Coryo,” she said teasingly. “It’s starting to sound like you care about me.”

She could practically see him rolling his eyes. “Trust me, that’s not what I was trying to convey.”

Bellova felt her fondness for him fade immediately. “Whatever. I need to go, I have homework to do and so do you.”

Coriolanus hummed. “Alright. I’ll leave you too it.”

“Bye.”

Bellova set the phone back on the receiver a bit too harshly, and collapsed backwards onto her mattress dramatically.

Just when she thought he was trying to be being nice to her, he metaphorically slammed the door in her face.

But that was just how Coriolanus was. He’d show hints of affection and care, and then turned cold. She wasn’t sure why, but she suspected that he was afraid to be vulnerable. She sympathized with that, but the constant game of hot-and-cold was irritating.

Why couldn’t he at least try to be more consistently considerate?

‘Stop it,’ she chided herself. ‘It doesn’t fucking matter. He’s always been like this and that’ll never change. Now, we have homework to finish.’

With that, she pushed herself off of her bed and headed to her desk. She sat down on her plush chair and opened the drawer designated for writing materials. Retrieving several sheets of paper and a fountain pen, she took a deep breath and began to write, ignoring the throbbing on her cheek from the escapades that had occurred earlier.

Strangely, the bruise didn’t feel like something to be ashamed of. It felt like a battle wound, something that showed she could handle herself.

It further proved that she was strong, resilient, a true Reginelle through and through.

And nothing could take that away from her.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊❆ ‧

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy, @effectwalker, @vxnilla-hxrddrugs, @mystargirl-interlude

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! I’m so sorry this took FOREVER to write, my life has been rly busy this week :(( I apologize if the quality of this fic isn’t great, I kinda rushed the ending a little…

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! (I had to add some of y’all to a comment instead becuz tumblr won’t let me tag more people for some reason☹️)

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x oc #tbosas #the hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #original character #thg prequel #sejanus plinth #sejanus x reader #sejanus deserved better

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