#ice's back goes yeah okay but nOT THAT MUCH GOD

[pollyna]

Ice picking up Bradley and carrying him half bride style while he's carrying Mav too, on his back, it's the epitome of strength. Mav is very impressed and a little more in love.

And that move definitely leaves Ice with at least a couple of sore muscle and the promise of never, ever, pick them both up together again.

[seventeenpins]

a slight miscalculation - pt. i

pairing: Joel x F!Reader

word count: 8.3k

summary: Sarah is off to college, and Joel is about to be living in an empty nest. They road trip out together, and as she spends her first night in her new apartment, he's staying in a nearby hotel. Letting go of his inhibitions for the first time in a long time, he tumbles into a one night stand that becomes very complicated, very quickly.

content/warnings: smut, age gap, mycologist!reader, dick sucking, implied pussy eating, fingering, no outbreak au, reader likes to hike, reader also infodumps, joel miller has a big cock, he also has anxiety, reader has anxiety too, and a cat, reader is in early 20s--exact age not established, one (1) use of daddy, alcohol and weed consumption, joel is a diligent condom wearer, set in present day, discussion of girl scout cookies, joel is sweet and soft and hasn't been eviscerated by the death of his daughter

a/n: I'm intending this to be about five parts. This may change, but right now it's looking like five. I've been struggling to write for a while, unable to focus, but I think I'm back at it? as always, your feedback is hugely appreciated, and i'm kissing all likers and commenters and rebloggers deeply and with tongue 🩷

check out pt. ii

For the first time in nineteen years, Joel is completely adrift. Sarah's starting college in just two months.

It's the kind of realization that hits him like a bucket of ice water, a sudden shock and then an unpleasant trickling of anxiety wrapping about him in nasty tendrils. And then he feels guilty, because he's so, so happy for Sarah because he knows that she's thrilled, but fuck she's gonna be two time zones away and now what's Joel meant to do on Thursday movie nights when he's here without her?

It's terrifying, and it's new. And it's not that he's new to anxiety. He's usually anxious, and he has the Sertraline on his bedside stand to prove it. But if his general anxiety baseline usually hovered around a 6.4, where he was at now far surpassed a 10. It felt exponential, and totally exhausting.

When he voices his fears to Tommy, to Joel's horror, Tommy just doubles over in laughter.

"Jesus, Joel," he wheezes, wiping fake tears from his eyes in exaggerated movements, "You looked so serious I thought you were gonna say you'd killed someone."

Joel scowls. "The fuck you laughing for?"

"She's going to college, it's not like she's dying!"

"How'm I gonna be there for her? What if she needs me? What if-"

"Joel-," Tommy pats him gently on the shoulder, "She can always call you, and you can always call her. And we both know she's got a good head on 'er shoulders."

Joel snorts in concession. "Yeah, yeah. Better than yours and mine put together, and then some."

"Exactly." Tommy agrees, "And if there's ever anything that really goes wrong, you got me. We can drive out together and make sure she's okay."

Joel nods and feels the tiniest bit of tension leave him. One step at a time.

Just over nineteen years ago he found out he was about to be a dad. Suddenly, he had a purpose. Having a kid at twenty-two wasn't something he'd ever intended, but somehow he knew he loved his baby girl from the moment he knew she was a possibility. He spent a solid seven months running around, hustling, doing everything he could to get the very best for his kid. He'd take on doubles, working himself to the bone to make sure they had the best crib, and the best stroller, too. He was thrilled and terrified and so, so green.

Now, his heart feels so big he doesn't know how to handle it. His baby girl is an honest-to-god adult, moving out and going to college, and he has no idea what he's gonna do with his time now.

He has work, of course. But beyond that? He's really gotta to widen his circle, he realises, because who's he gonna hang out with? His brother?

He'd only just turned forty-one and had absolutely not come to terms with an empty nest--the few friends from high school he'd kept in touch with were so much further behind than him. The ones that had kids had them later in their twenties and thirties, and now they're raising middle schoolers while Joel's kid is a real fucking person, leaving home and everything. All the scrapping and saving he'd been doing since before Sarah was born–for his little girl to be able to follow any dream she chose–it was finally paying off. The precocious young woman she is, she graduated early and spent nearly a year working retail to save up some cash. She'd applied to colleges all across the country, and a few international ones, too. Joel had been crossing his fingers for months, hoping she'd choose something near Austin, but cheered with her all the same when she got her acceptance letter from Oregon State University. The previous summer, just before she'd started her applications, she and Joel and Tommy spent a miserable, wonderful week hiking round the Pacific Northwest. She fell in love with it, and the university offered a few of the majors she wanted to consider.

Joel didn't know what he'd do with his baby girl so far away, his life, his reason, but he sure as hell wasn't gonna tell her that. He will not clip her wings. His baby's gonna change the world and he's not gonna hold her back. He is, though, gonna require regular phone calls and check-ins and god they grow up so fast.

"Y'all should road trip out there," Tommy suggests one night over the dinner table.

Joel knew the conversation of how Sarah would get to the West Coast would come up, and it oughta be sooner rather than later. He was half afraid that she wanted to head out on her own, that she didn't need her dad anymore. Worried she would say she wanted to get a plane ticket, or take the Amtrak all the way to Corvallis. But he knows he needs to loosen his grip a little, so he braces himself when he turns to her.

"What'dya think, Sarah? You wanna be stuck in a car with your old man for a cross-country trip?"

Sarah rolls her eyes, but her face breaks into a grin. "Can we, Dad?"

This was too good to be true, he knew, but he wasn't gonna give up one last opportunity to spend some time with his girl till winter break.

"Course, baby," he tells her, and that flicker of anxiety quells just the tiniest bit.

The next few weeks fly by, and the knot of anxiety in Joel's chest feels like it's consuming him from the inside out. He's taken some time off, more than Sarah or Tommy can remember, but he's constantly trying to suggest ideas for activities to Sarah. For the most part, she's a good sport, understanding how much it means to her dad. She took pity on him, and let him drag her to places that ideally she would've gone to when she was little, but she humored him and he appreciated her dedication. He did his best to step back when she was heading out to spend time with friends--her time here was limited, after all, and she was always a social butterfly.

There are five weeks till classes start, four weeks, three, two, and in the blink of an eye, they're loading up the truck with all of Sarah's things, and Tommy is hugging Sarah goodbye, teary eyed. He gives Joel a hug, too. Joel would never admit it, but fuck he had really needed that hug.

They would take the scenic route. Make a memorable trip of it. Joel would make sure she settles in safe and sound, and then he'd head home.

6am Sunday.

You wake with a start. It's just over a week before term starts and your entire body aches. Fuck, you think to yourself, definitely overdid it with that last hike.

(The hiking part wasn't itself a problem, but one of the trails had washed out. You thought you'd found your way, but the "easy" three and a half mile hike took about five hours, leaving your calves bruised and your heels blistered.)

You roll over in your hotel room bed and, at the sound of a slight yelp followed by a gentle thud, realise with a sudden start that you just catapulted your cat off the corner.

"Shit, sorry goblin," you tell Spatula, who glares up at you with disdain as he licks at his paw. You reach down and, despite your inadvertent cat launch, he immediately rubs up against your fingertips and lets you scratch behind his ears.

"I'm sorry, baby," you soothe.

He meows, loudly. Howls, really. You take it as an apology accepted.

You sit up properly and look at your phone calendar. Nothing immediate. You don't need to get keys to your new apartment till tomorrow, nor do you meet your roommates till then–they're both moving in today, and moving is already horrible without having to navigate around the belongings of two other people. No, thanks. You can afford one more night at the hotel, and it'll make everything go that little bit more smoothly tomorrow. Besides, you have a bit of reading you'd like to get through, maybe stock up on non-perishables till you have a full-sized fridge, and get to know the city just a little.

You move gingerly, testing the ache in your muscles as you unfold yourself from the position you've been sat in and pull yourself from the bed. It hurts, but not something that won't be fixed with a little movement.

A plan forms. First, a walk, to try and loosen up your tight muscles. Then, errands. You have a whole list, with everything categorised by store, but then you enter IKEA and exit fifteen minutes later, only to find that five and a half hours have passed and it's evening now.

How was it that IKEA harnessed such a malicious power. How could anything harness that?

You need a fucking break. And a goddamn drink.

"Hey Dad," Sarah calls from the adjacent bedroom as Joel sweats, hauling another box towards her. The drive has been good, but it has been long. His legs ache. His back aches. There are parts of him that he didn't know existed that now ache.

"Yeah?" he calls back.

"Are you sure you're okay with me staying here tonight?"

Joel lets out a breath. He wants to be okay with it. And there's no way his nineteen year old would want to hang out with her dad when she could be spending the very first night in her brand new apartment. But he also wishes she wanted to spend one last night, hanging out in a hotel room with her dad. They could watch shitty movies together. Make the most of the final night before this cataclysmic shift.

But no.

That'd just be him being selfish. He can handle a night by himself. He's gotta handle a whole lotta them soon enough.

"O'course baby," he nods, hoping the smile he's plastered on his face looks totally genuine. "But we're still doin' breakfast in the morning, right?"

She nods, vigorous, and then waves her phone around. "I was looking up places! There's a diner called Tommy's," she laughs, "Wanna try that? 9:30?"

"Let's do it," he smiles, and this one is a little less forced.

"How much more do we have?" Sarah asks, nodding towards the box Joel's still holding.

"Last box," he grunts, "What else can I help with?"

He places the box down and lets out a slight, almost silent whimper. Sarah catches it, though.

"Maybe you should take it easy the rest of the day, Dad," she tells him, "We both know you have old man back."

He rolls his eyes but nods. "Guess you're right," he shrugs, "That my cue to take off?"

Sarah blushes but turns to him sheepishly. "Yeah, I-"

"No need to explain," Joel assures, "I know you must wanna get unpacked and settle in, get to know your roommates an' all."

She jumps up and, almost startling him, wraps her arms around him in a bear hug.

"Love you, dad," she grins, and she squeezes just a little tighter than usual.

He squeezes back, and they both pretend there aren't tears in his eyes.

As you step through the doors of the hotel bar, you decide you like it. The lighting is comfortably low. It's not loud, but it's not quiet, either. Colorful bottles line the shelves, the light of the filament bulbs glinting off the glass in rainbow prisms.

You take a seat at the bar and give a nod of thanks as the bartender passes you a small menu. It's unsurprisingly extortionate, hotel bar and all, but it'll do.

"Old fashioned, please," you tell the bartender, who nods in response. A minute later, he hands you a glass, delivered with a twist of orange and a cherry on top.

With your first sip, you feel your shoulders start to relax and some of the tension loosen from your body. The warmth of the burn envelops you and your stress starts to unravel, leaving only the buzz feeling good.

You order a second, and as the glass is handed to you, a voice to your right catches your attention.

"This seat taken?" a man asks.

You shake your head and offer a quick smile, gesturing towards it, "All yours."

"Much obliged," he nods, and slips into the backless stool next to yours.

The bartender comes over and passes him the same menu, but without looking at it he asks, "Could I get an old fashioned?"

You smile and catch his eye, tipping your glass towards him. "An excellent choice," you praise, "Though if you don't have a sweet tooth, I'd recommend asking Jeff there if he can go easy on the simple syrup."

"Oh yeah?" He asks, and then he leans in conspiratorially. "T'tell you the truth, I do have a bit of a sweet tooth."

You raise an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Suddenly, he breaks into a grin and it's dazzling.

"Yeah," he laughs, "I've got cookies stashed in secret locations all through my house."

You raise an eyebrow. "If I keep 'em in my pantry, my brother'll find 'em and eat 'em all," he explains, "But ever since my kid was a girl scout, I always get cravings for girl scout cookies, so I buy an armful o'boxes and try and preserve 'em throughout the year, till I can replenish."

"What's your favorite girl scout cookie?"

"Caramel deLites, hands down."

"Oh yeah?"

"Absolutely," he nods.

The bartender, Jeff, sets the man's drink down with a clink. You catch one another's eye and both erupt into a fit of laughter.

You're not even sure what's funny. Maybe it's just been a long day? Maybe the whiskey was getting to you?

Whatever it is, it feels good.

The man takes a sip of his drink and lets out an aaaahh and it's goofy and charming and then he extends his hand.

"Joel," he tells you, "Joel Miller". You shake his hand, introduce yourself, and then take a sip of your own drink.

"So, tell me about yourself," you smile, "You coming from out of town?"

"Yes ma'am," he nods, "Come up here from Austin."

"Texas?"

Joel nods.

"That's a long trip."

"Yeah," he laughs, "It really is."

"So, you're a nice Southern boy, huh?"

"Well," he swishes his glass and tries to bite back a smile, "I don't know that I'd go quite so far, but my mama did raise me to be a gentleman."

"That so?" you ask and his blush deepens.

"I... have been known to get up to some trouble, but I like to think I've mellowed in my old age." He gestures at the beautiful little smatterings of silver at his temples, and you cackle.

"Okay, that's hot," you tell him and he chokes, but you keep going, "Old age, though? What are you, like, forty?"

He exhales, chagrined. "Forty-one."

You roll your eyes. "That ain't old."

"It feels it sometimes," he smiles, "My kid is grown. My little brother's married with a kid of his own on the way. My back hurts, pretty much all the time."

You snort. You also notice, without trying to look, that he doesn't have a wedding band. Doesn't have a tan line for one, either. Interesting.

"But more than that," he continues, "I guess I feel- I don't know. A little... aimless?"

"Yeah," you nod, and you let the moment sit. "I get that."

He lets out a little breath, and then turns back to you, focused.

"What about you? Where're you from?"

"Oof," you exhale, "All over. Spent a bit of time on the East coast. The Midwest. Lived a few months in the South, even," you tease as you bump your shoulder into his and he laughs. It's a surprisingly familiar gesture, but miraculously comfortable.

"Ever make it to Texas?"

"Naw," you shake your head, "My time in the South was all in Mississippi. After that I moved out to California, and I've been slowly working my way up the West Coast."

"And what have you been enjoying about the West Coast?" Joel asks.

"The mushrooms," you grin, and Joel frowns.

"Like, the kind you get in a little baggy from the dealer down the street, or-?"

"No," you laugh, "Or, well- Okay, sometimes. Gotta say it is great out here for that, too. But I mean fungus as a whole--mushrooms, mold, yeast, lichen. But I'm most interested in mushrooms. They're just really fuckin' cool, and there's so much we don't understand about them. And, they're delicious."

"Huh," Joel ponders, "T'tell you the truth, I've never thought much about mushrooms, besides enjoying 'em as a pizza topping."

"Most people don't," you agree, "But fuck, like-- Okay, so we know there are over five million types of fungi on Earth, but we've identified less than two percent of them. Some fungus aids decomposition. Some fungus is bioluminescent. Some are known worldwide for their delicious flavours, and others are known by the slow, horrible ways they kill you."

Joel raises his eyebrows, and suddenly you feel a little self conscious.

"Sorry, I do this," you laugh, rubbing at the back of your neck, "I get very excited about fungus and manage to alienate everyone around me."

You half expect him to stand up and walk away.

Instead, though, he leans in closer. "Don't apologise," he tells you, "I'm learning something new. Tell me more?"

"No, I should stop. Otherwise I'll never stop talking," you wince.

"How about just one more fungus fact?"

You sit for a minute, pondering. "This is- well, I guess this is one of the reasons I find fungus so fascinating. So, fungus can't photosynthesise the way that plants do--they can't produce their own food from sunshine, and water, and carbon dioxide. Instead, their mycelium-- they're these thread-like networks--they branch out beneath the earth, seeking out food, growing in the direction where it can find the nutrients it needs and breaking down organic material all around them, sometimes living organisms, as a parasite, and sometimes dead organisms as a decomposer, or both. And it's just- It's this hidden world, that exists right beneath the surface even in some of the extreme places on earth, temperature-wise. And most days, we don't even think about it."

You punctuate your thought with a large swallow of your drink, which is half-watered down now that the ice is melted, and doesn't hit quite as hard as you'd hoped, but then you look up at Joel and he's smiling at you, pensive, and--

"That's- That's actually really interesting."

Before you can respond, though, Joel glances at his watch and balks. It is getting late. "Shit," he shakes his head, "I think I oughta call it a night," he says, pulling back. "Early morning tomorrow, and if I stay at the bar I'll just keep drinkin'."

Fuck. That's a dismissal. Of course you went on too much about mushrooms. You'd fucked this up. You'd thought this was going well, but now it felt like a bucket of cold water was dumped over you. "Oh," you nod, matching his posture, and try to swallow down the sudden wave of disappointment. "Of course. Have a good night, Joel."

Joel stands up and then looks you up and down, considering. It's not brazen, but it isn't shy, either. And then understanding flashes across his face.

"Wait- Sorry, that's not how I meant it." He reaches out towards you and you melt into his touch. "I'm messin' this up." He chuckles, but it sounds pained. "Now look, I don't wanna make any presumptions. And I'm really hopin' I'm not coming off as some--dirty old man. Jesus, I haven't done this in a while. But I'm in room 308."

Your eyebrows shoot up. What you'd taken for disinterest was just--nerves?

"I reckon I'll be awake for a while yet. You're welcome to... drop by."

The disappointment melts, making way for a fluttering in your stomach.

"Twenty minutes," you assure him, "308?"

He nods and he brakes into a sheepish grin, shedding what you now realise had been something of an anxious wince. "308."

You watch him leave. When he's out of sight, you toss back the rest of your watery drink and go to pay your tab, but Jeff tells you it was already settled. You thank him and tuck your shaking hands in your pockets. You feel an electricity running through you as you take the elevator up.

When you get back to your room, you hop into the shower, just to freshen up--you keep your hair dry but scrub your body. Once you're clean, you brush your teeth.

Stepping back out of the en suite, you survey the hotel room. Spatula is lounging on the corner of the bed, entirely uninterested in your movements. You top up his dry food bowl and place a kiss between his ears before slipping out.

When you knock at Joel's door, you hear a slight rustle and clatter and then the door swings open, Joel's staring a little wide-eyed, like he didn't actually expect you to show. He's wearing grey sweats and a Johnny Cash t-shirt that looks like it's been around nearly as long as you have. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, an anxious tell that's desperately endearing.

"C'mon in," he smiles, and you step in, closing the door behind you.

You reach out to cup his face, delighting in the feeling of coarse stubble beneath your fingertips. Your first kiss is chaste. You both lean forward and press your lips to one another gently, exploring.

Then, you let out a little moan and Joel shudders. Heat surges between you, and his hands are cradling your head and brushing your cheek and he's pinning you against the closed door. You're kissing again, nothing chaste remaining, learning the taste of him, his rhythm, the crashing waves of give and take between you.

You wrap one leg around him and smirk when he lets out a throaty groan as you grind against his hard cock. You're pretty sure he's not wearing underwear, the thick bulge seemingly unconstrained in his grey sweats, the whole length pressing against your thigh.

Your head falls back and you let out soft, breathy noises as his lips trace along your collarbone, up your throat, and against that tender little spot behind your ear. When he puts your earlobe between his lips and presses his teeth gently against the skin, your knees go weak and he chuckles, strong arms wrapping around you, holding you up.

"Bed?" he asks, and you breathe yes and then, with a yelp and a throaty chuckle, you're lifted up and spun around and both tumbling into the duvet.

You're grasping at each other, desperate to keep your hands on one another. The only times you part is when you undress, and even then, you're helping each other--pulling the hem of his shirt over his lifted arms, pressing into him as he reaches around and moves to unhook your bra, but then he realises you're not wearing one and lets out a groan, his thumbs brushing alongside the tender skin along your ribs, moving gently as if to cup your breasts, but then he pulls back.

Normally you might wait, do this part slowly, draw out the tease just a little bit longer.

Tonight, though, you're ravenous.

As you fiddle with the buttons of your pants, you tug at the drawstring keeping Joel's sweats on his hips. The bow comes loose in one smooth motion, and he lifts his hips and you pull the sweats down.

Your mouth immediately waters seeing him bare, laid out for you. You watch a bead of precum drip down the head and pool on his belly. The coarse hair of his happy trail glistens with it. He's thick, uncut, and looks painfully hard, his cock head ruddy. "Fuck, you're beautiful," you tell him, and his cheeks redden but he grins. It's boyish, the way he grins, and devastatingly charming.

And, what you're saying is true. His body is gorgeous, something you wish you could sketch. Soft flesh over hard muscle, visible tan lines where his chest and shoulders are noticeably lighter than his arms. The muscles and veins along his throat are driving you absolutely fucking insane as he swallows and looks up at you.

He's got freckles on his shoulders, too, and without thinking, you lower yourself down to kiss at his shoulder. He shakes, just a little, and lets out the most beautiful gasp. It's addictive, pulling these noises from him. You follow the curve of him, giving him a taste of his own medicine--tracing feather-light kisses along his collarbone, up the tendons of his neck, behind his ear. You can feel the blood pulse in his veins as your lips brush along him. Joel goes from panting lightly to full on groaning, rutting his hips up towards you and, frustrated, meeting only air.

"Can I taste you?", you ask, and Joel lets out a half-strangled sound and nods, vigorous.

You scoot back, lower yourself, poke out your tongue and, without any preamble, lick at the slit of his head, tasting the salty, tangy precum.

Joel tips his head back and groans and you decide to be kind. You grasp onto his hips and take him in your mouth, slowly sinking down, inch by inch by inch and now you can feel him at the back of your throat, your saliva dripping down the shaft and collecting in the hair between his thighs.

You bob your head up and down, taking him deeper with each thrust, but your throat is full and there are still inches to go. You relax, doing everything you can to take him deeper, and he starts to thrust up gently.

You let him fuck into your mouth but release one of his hips, allowing him to move as freely as he needs and freeing up your hand, which you shove into your underwear, rubbing furiously at your clit.

It doesn't take much to lose yourself in it, to focus only on the sensation. You're so wet, slick coating your fingers, making the glide that much smoother as you touch yourself. Joel tastes so good, too, the intrusion of his cock the most delicious thing, feeling the way he shudders when you moan, the way he moans when you shudder.

"Fuck-" Joel gasps, and then there's a hand guiding you gently off of him.

You raise an eyebrow. "You okay?"

He swallows, hard, and nods. "More than okay. Felt too fuckin' good."

"Oh yeah?" and you lean down, as if to take him back in your mouth, but he chuckles and pulls you back again.

"It's been... a while. For me. And-" He drags his palm down his face, wearing an almost pained expression. "Christ, you just look too fuckin' good down there, mouth stretched 'round me while you touch yourself. An' it feels too fuckin' good, too. I ain't ready for this to be over yet but if you keep lettin' me fuck your throat like that it's gonna be over real quick. And I wanna feel that pretty pussy myself."

You sit back up and he pulls you towards him so you're straddling him.

"You gonna fuck me, Joel?"

"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, baby, please-"

You do an awkward wobble and then stand up, shedding your pants and letting your panties drop, stepping out of them, one foot and then the other, and the way he's watching you is addictive. He watches you with beautiful eyes, drinking all of you in, and suddenly the moment has changed into one of those quiet, intimate moments where you both exhale a laugh.

You straddle him again, and lean down to kiss him, and the electric current surges up. He grabs you by the jaw, meeting your desperation. His lips on yours are exactly the balm you need and you can taste the whiskey on his breath.

"Feels fucking good," you tell Joel as you slide up and down his length. He's not penetrating you, not yet, but the lips of your pussy are spread and you're gliding along him, feeling his head at your clit and thrusting back till you're nearly seated on his balls.

He watches you, nearly unblinking, drinking it all in. Then, he lets out a groan, and half-sits up, suddenly focused.

"Shit," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't have any condoms. Shit shit shit-"

You push him back down and kiss him again. Then, you hop off the bed and sift around in your jean pockets.

"Ah-ha!," you exclaim, once you've found your treasure. Joel raises and eyebrow and you wink. "Saw they were selling them in the lobby. Figured it might be a good idea."

"Shit," Joel laughs, and presses his lips just to the side of your mouth. "Clever girl," he tells you, and a shiver goes up your spine.

He leans to help, but you shoo him away and he watches, entranced, as you neatly open the condom wrapper and, with a small amount of difficulty, roll it down his cock.

"Feeling okay?" You ask him, "Shit, I shoulda gotten the Magnums. Is your dick okay? It's not being choked to death by an inappropriately sized rubber, is it?"

Joel snorts. "We'll manage," he says, and then he grips you by the hips, lines himself up. He draws his knuckles along your cunt and groans, "Fuck, so goddamn wet for me-" and, the moment you look at him and nod, he holds the head of his cock against your drooling lips and presses into you.

It's a big stretch as he lowers you down onto him, the intrusion almost painful, but before you can even take a breath, it melts into absolute pleasure. You've fucked people with longer cocks before, and you've fucked people with girthier cocks before, but never have you fucked someone with a cock that's both this long and thick and it feels like you're being split in two and it's perfect and you realise, with a sudden flip of your stomach, he isn't even fully seated inside you yet.

Then, you manage to focus on the words Joel is saying-that had really just been background noise for the past ten seconds or so-and suddenly you're tuning back in for "Tha's it," his voice low and hoarse, surprisingly gentle, "Good girl, takin' this cock so well, look at you."

His brow is furrowed and he's looking at you with such dark eyes, nearly black, the pupils are so blown. "Just a little more, that's it, just one more inch, you can do it, christ, look at you, takin' all of me."

His tone is reverent and it sets a fire through you. You can feel more slickness build and drip out of you, and from the way he moans, you're certain he can feel it too despite the condom.

"So fuckin' wet," he groans, "Soakin' my cock- grippin' me so nice-Fuck--"

He leans towards you and cradles your head in his hand, kissing you hard.

When you both pull back, you know your lips must be kiss swollen and red. His are--they're soft and bright, and you want to eat him whole.

"You're gonna be the death of me, woman."

He's thrusting into you lazily, holding you in place, but you need more, you need all of him.

You push forward and move his hand from your waist to your clit. As you manoeuvre him, his nostrils flare, and you'd wonder if he was angry, if not for the way you felt his cock stiffen even further inside of you. You start to move your hips, to rub up against the thumb on your clit, and to feel every fucking inch of him.

Urged on by the way he groans, you start to ride him, properly. Holding each other close, you fuck down onto him and he leans back, awed.

"Enjoying the show?" you ask.

"Damn- right- I- am-," Joel breathes, every word punctuated with a shuddering breath after you drive back down onto his cock, "Jesus- you- look- so- good- like- that."

You like being watched. Being admired. It sent an extra thrill through you, and your hips stutter, just a little, and now you're following a new, faster rhythm.

"Fuck, that's it, baby-" he praises, "Shit, yes- bounce on it."

You lean forward and kiss his throat, and then he makes this noise, half-strangled and beautiful.

"Shit, honey-- honey, honey, hold on-," he holds you still and you're glad he has, because your brain hadn't quite processed his words.

He's looking at you so earnestly.

"Baby, if you keep ridin' me like this I am gonna blow my load in the next twenty seconds and I don't wanna end this quite so soon."

You hum, a moment of consideration. You stare into his eyes, and part of it is calculated seduction, but another part is getting genuinely lost in the way he looks at you. The crinkles round his eyes. The way he seems able to focus on you, in a way that feels as frightening as it is exhilarating.

"How about this," You smile, "You get yours, and then you can eat me out till I get mine. And if you're ready to go again by the time I've come, we can see where we're at then. Hmm?"

You see a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and take a moment to appreciate how much he's clearly trying to control himself.

After a moments of avoiding your eye, he looks at you again and he looks utterly wrecked. "You- talkin' like that?" He shakes his head and tries to even his breath. "Fuck, I nearly came right there."

"It's okay," you soothe, and you cup his jaw and resume you movements, riding him like you had before. "You can come if you need to-" your fingertips stroke the stubble of his chin, "You're close, huh? It's okay, daddy, you can let go."

Joel lets out a strangled noise and busts immediately.

You savor the way it feels, the pulse of his cock as he spills into you. No, into the condom, you correct yourself, but you can always pretend-

After his balls relax and you can feel him start to get soft, you hold the condom down as you pull yourself off, and you're nearly unseated when there's a sudden squelch noise that sends you both into tumbles of laughter.

It takes a while to calm down, and you find yourselves heaving, tangled in the sheets, and wrapped up in each other. The condom is hanging limply on Joel's now-soft cock and it's oddly cold and gooey as you accidentally roll against it, and that sends you both off again.

"Fuck," Joel snorts, and tugs at the condom, starting to roll it off his length, "I'd almost forgotten the weird texture of a used condom. Fuckin'... Slug-like."

"That-" you declare, "Is visceral. And I hate it. Thanks."

He snorts, and you suddenly have a question.

"Condoms not making too many appearances in your life?"

"Not many, no."

"What, you usually fuck raw?"

"Just haven't been sleepin' with anyone," he shrugs, nonplussed.

"Well, I gotta say, the good people of Austin have been missing out."

Joel shrugs again, and it comes off as casual, but you notice the way his ears tint pink. "Just- not been something I did. But now, I guess, I can. And with way less guilt."

"Why guilt? Are-" you venture, dread pooling in your stomach, "Are you married?"

His eyes flit up to you sharply, and then soften immediately. He lets out a breath and shakes his head. "No. Nothin' like that. I was married, but I've been divorced nearly twenty years now."

The tightness immediately uncoils and you realise how tense you were only a moment ago. I am not a cog in the machine of a collapsing marriage. Thank fuck.

But now your curiosity is piqued. "So... why the guilt?"

"Sorry, I- I really didn't mean to get into it. I'd rather not get into it. It's- complicated."

"Of course," you shrug, and it isn't a problem because this is just a hot fantasy hookup that you'll remember fondly, and it'll be wonderful masturbation fuel for probably the rest of your life, but you don't wanna make the poor guy go into his life's trauma, especially when he's looking at you so fucking earnestly and you are actually really fucking fascinated but no, you would not let this become a problem.

"Thanks," he says, and then steps out of the room. You hear the clang of the bin as he steps on the pedal, then drops the condom, takes a piss and washes his hands.

"You hungry?" He asks, and you realize very suddenly, you're absolutely famished.

"Yes," you jump up and he laughs when you run, bare-assed and shameless, over to the corner of the room filled with brochures and traveller info and finally, you raise it in triumph when you find it, the list of nearby takeaways.

"Okay," you look at the list, "There's one place at the top of the list here that's apparently highly rated, but I actually have plans there soon and I wanna wait till then to eat there. Hope that's okay."

Joel comes over to you and rests his head on your shoulder. "No problem."

"But... alright," you continue. "There's pizza. Or... more pizza. Or, look--there's a Southern-style place, that'll make you feel right at home!" Joel pokes you in the side and you swat at him as he grunts a laugh.

Suddenly, a warning sound starts playing on loop in your brain. It was dreadfully domestic, wasn't it? This was an absolute stranger you'd just met in a hotel bar? But... it also felt... nice? And it felt nice in ways that you'd never found yourself enjoying before. Even with long-term partners. Maybe because this was so low-stakes, you reasoned, such an inevitably temporary situation, so you weren't putting the same kind of pressure on yourself.

As soon as you think that, the eternal curse of overthinking shows itself and you suddenly feel desperately self conscious. Before you can pull away and make some excuse, though, Joel's arm wraps around you and his thumb starts rubbing little circles into a tender bit of skin between your hip and your tummy. The anxiety spiral you'd been teetering on the edge of suddenly vanishes.

"How about-," he nods at the list, "Pizza?"

After Joel calls in your order, the pizza delivery service tells you to expect your food in about thirty minutes. You remember you have a little box of edibles. You ask Joel if he minds if you take one, and he doesn't. You offer him one, and he automatically declines, but then as he starts to explain, he pauses and pivots, goes "Wait, actually. Yeah. Why not?"

A freckled kid who looks no more than sixteen pulls up with a short stack of pizza boxes and a two liter bottle of root beer. He raps awkwardly on the door after exactly thirty five minutes, and it swings open.

The room looks utterly wrecked, clothing strewn along every surface. Joel answers the door wearing a robe, his entire face smelling of sex, and his moustache still shining with the slick of your release.

"Thanks, kid," Joel nods, and hands him a small wad of cash. The kid eyes him and shrugs. "Keep the change," he tells him, and the door swings back shut.

The edibles have hit beautifully. You're both blissed out, comfortably hazy, lost in the sensation of bare limbs on bedsheets and the flavors of the pizza and it's assorted sauces. You lay together on the bed, paper plates strewn between you. In the background, an X-Files rerun plays.

"Ooh!" You sit up as you catch the premise of the episode, "I love this one! See the goo? There's a giant fungal... entity.. that's working on digesting them, and giving them hallucinations as they die."

"You and mushrooms, huh?" Joel laughs, but then looks back at the episode and contemplates the viscous yellow goo. "Jesus christ," he frowns, and sniffs, now contemplating the mushrooms on his pizza slice.

You spot his glare and snort. "I think you're safe."

He takes another bite and shakes his head as if to clear it.

"I'm getting tired," he admits.

"Me too," you agree.

"No pressure, but in case it wasn't clear, you're welcome to stay the night here."

"That's sweet," you tell him, and think it over. "If I took you up on that, would you be offended if I slip out early?"

Joel raises a brow.

"I have a cat," you explain, "And I'm working on moving into a new place, and meeting a friend for breakfast, and then I need to check out after breakfast because I won't be able to get my keys for the new place until the breakfast but I can't take my cat to a diner-"

You take a breath.

"Basically, I've got a bunch of things I need to do in the morning, but if you don't mind me slipping out around, maybe, 5-ish, then I'd love to stay."

He stares at you.

You regret saying as much as you said. You don't need to over-explain yourself to this actual stranger. He doesn't care. There's no reason for him to care. He's probably in it just for the fuck, and it was fun and if you stay then there's a chance the two of you will wake up at some point in the night, still horny and lustful and you might fuck again and you'd be lying if you said that wasn't part of the draw. You realise, though, you'd also be lying if you said you didn't care what he thought of you. All of a sudden, you are overwhelmed with caring what this man thinks of you.

How fucking inconvenient.

"I wouldn't be offended at all," Joel chews, swallows, wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin and speaks again. "What's your cat's name?"

You don't know what you'd expected he'd say, but it wasn't that. You buffer for a moment. "It's- Spatula."

"Spatula?"

"Yep." You feel foolish.

"Huh. Spatula."

A silent moment between you.

"Got any pictures?"

You weren't expecting that, either. "I... do? Do you want to see them?" He nods. You pull out your phone to scroll through.

Joel, suddenly scrambled around for his phone, too. It was late and he hadn't checked it for hours. Had it been on silent? What if Sarah had called and he'd missed it?

His panic eased when he saw he had only two notifications. Both from Sarah, but neither were bad. He hadn't been neglecting any crises. The first text was a selfie of Sarah and an unfamiliar person, which she'd texted to him with the caption New roomie!! The second contained an address to the place they'd have breakfast tomorrow along with Just wanted you to know I've invited a friend to join us tomorrow morning! Is that okay? Realized I should maybe have checked with you? 😬

There was an ache in his chest. He wanted to keep her to himself, get to spend one last day, just the two of them. It was the start of a whole new chapter, but more than anything, he wished he could hold onto the moment for just a second longer.

But Sarah was stressed, he knew this, so he wasn't gonna make it worse and put this burden on her. He could handle it. He had to handle it. He typed back- No problem, baby. Can't wait to meet your friend.

After a moment, he followed up with another text. Gonna turn in now. Good nite!

The less he texted right now, the better. He did not want Sarah to know anything about the night he was having.

His screen lit up a moment later. Night Dad! He takes a deep breath and wills some of the tension away.

He slips his phone aside and you scoot into bed next to him.

"This," you announce, "Is Spatula."

Joel scrolls thru, his brows raising higher with each image.

With a single nod, he opens his mouth and instead of speaking, he collapses into laughter. It comes out a wheeze- "I-- I know this won't make any sense, but your cat looks just like my goddamn brother."

You're laughing now too, both of you almost hysterical, even though you have no frame of reference. You cherish the absurdity.

Then, Joel pulls up a picture on his phone and shows you, and now you're doubling over again because his brother looks exactly like Spatula.

You don't remember falling asleep. You curse your body's internal clock because you wake up right at 5am, and even though you know you should get up and leave, you wish you could have just a little bit longer.

It's such a comfortable way to wake up. One arm is folded under your pillow, and the other is slung over Joel's hip. He's asleep, snoring softly, and strands of his hair are mussed along his forehead. Your hand is holding his tummy, but you realise there's something pressing against the heel of your hand, and then realise, with a delicious jolt, that he's hard and straining against his boxers.

It's so fucking hard to get out of that bed, but with enough barely-effective reminders--you're gonna fuck up your whole day if you're late, gotta make a good impression, Spatula's gonna be so disappointed if you're late with his breakfast--you manage to bully yourself out of the warm and wonderful bed containing blankets and absolutely fantastic dick, and you tiptoe through the room, dress quickly, and, after making a note and leaving it on his bedside stand, you slip out.

Joel wakes up with a jolt, and then rolls over to see that the alarm clock (which he dared not contemplate the number of times he must have snoozed) was telling him it was 9:13.

He was late. Really fucking late. And then the panic made his brain spin faster and that's when he noticed the note on his bedside table.

I had a really good time If you're in town for a little longer, don't be a stranger?

It's followed with your name and phone number, and a rather detailed mushroom sketch across the page. He wasn't sure what kind of mushroom it was, but it was beautiful, and clearly hand-drawn, and for whatever reason you'd decided to tear it out of, presumably, your sketchbook? And you gave it to him, and he's gonna read that note and replay last night for the rest of his fucking life. It felt incredibly precious. He placed it in a book so it wouldn't get creased or folded. Made sure it was all contained and neat, totally flat in between the pages.

Then, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower.

After scrubbing the smell of sex off of his entire body, he dresses quickly and checks his watch again. 9:28.

He texts Sarah and lets her know he's a few minutes behind. She responds with an eye roll emoji.

Joel settles in his truck and pulls up directions. It's only a few minutes away. He won't be too late.

When Joel steps into the diner, he's charmed by it. It's old school, with a checkerboard floor and bright red vinyl seats. He scans the room till he spots Sarah in a booth in the corner. She's laughing over a hot chocolate, and her friend must be in the seat opposite her.

He catches Sarah's eye and she grins at him, waving him over.

You've been at the diner about fifteen minutes, and you and Sarah are already getting along beautifully.

You'd met on a university message board and had become fast friends, but meeting someone in person was always a little terrifying. On top of that, you'd already committed to spending at least one (academic) year with this person, so you were damn sure gonna make it work.

Sarah waves over her dad. You can't see him yet, the back of the booth too high.

But then he's standing right there.

You already have a hand outstretched, but when he sees you and you see him, your stomach flips and dread runs through you. All the color drains from his face. He looks like a deer in headlights, and you'd be surprised if you didn't look the same.

Sarah looks between you, not quite concerned, but definitely confused. Sarah smiles and tries to diffuse the situation.

"Hi dad!" She grins, "This is my new roommate! Well, the other new roommate--the one in the picture, their name is Ellie, they weren't able to make it this morning. BUT. Breakfast seemed like a great time to hand off keys!"

Joel is still frozen and white-faced. Your brain whirs, and you know you've just fucking catapulted yourself into a disastrous mess, but you do your very best to save face.

Reaching your hand out further so he can't possibly miss it, he gives into some familiar social instinct, takes it and you shake. You think of his hands, how they dragged along your body last night, touched you, felt you, wrecked you.

You introduce yourself. He nods, avoiding eye contact.

"Joel." He grunts. "Miller."

Sarah frowns at him, but turns back to the menu.

This- was unexpected. Problematic. Arguably, really fucked up. All of those things and more. But it'll be fine.

All throughout breakfast, you repeat that to yourself, letting the words bounce around your head. It will be fine, you repeat your mantra, it will be fine, and you try not to feel too hurt at the way Joel's avoiding eye contact as if simply looking at you will cause him unimaginable disgust.

Everything will be fine.

Note: The fic's premise is loosely based on the book Mistakes Were Made which is a fucking excellent sapphic romance novel that utilises this trope. Would strongly recommend the book if you're into smutty queer stories.

[creativewritersposts]

delirious state - Luke Hughes

summary; Luke Hughes x reader

Luke gets injured and the painkillers kick him into a delirious state, which is quite funny.

warning(s); mention of injury, it's more fluff and funny, real head injuries are no fun! , maybe grammar errors

author's note; old but good! 4/4 fics done! Good night everyone ✨

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Luke Hughes left the game and is on the way to get medical help".

This is how the disaster began. You stand in the emergency department waiting for Luke, completely worried and walking circles. "Mrs. Hughes? Mr. Hughes asked for you", an older nurse speaks with papers under her arm. You didnt know you're his wife but you're completely fine with that. Together with his nurse you arrive on a station where you can smell the typical disinfection scent.

"I'll leave you alone with your husband. Our doctor had to sew a wound on his head, two broken rips and a swollen nose. Because of the medical drugs and painkillers he can speak confused. He needs to rest. Are there any questions?", the nurse looks up from her pinning map with all informations, you don't care right now. You want to know if he's okay. "No i just want to see my husband, thank you". The nurse nods and walks back where they came from.

Quietly you open the door, afraid to wake Luke. Your poor Lukey. But damn you're wrong. Your poor Lukey smiles high and looks at you absolutely awake. He has a black eye, a neck support and plaster on his head where the doctors had to shave his head. He looks not good, hockey is a dangerous sport.

"Hey babbbyyy! Nice to see you", he waves with his hand and his voice sounds higher than usual.

"Hey, are you okay? My poor Lukey. Your family will be here in one hour. Traffic", you pet his curly hair and sit on his bed. "Oh yeah. Do you want to go to the cinema with me?", Luke smiles again not knowing what he tells. "You're not in the condition so I don't think", you giggle. It feels like you talk to a child. "You are soooo pretty", Luke does a gesture to show how much and curls your hair with his finger.

"You are pretty, too. Even with your destroyed face", you smirk. Luke is never that cheesy but as long he won't get angry you tolerate it.

"I really wanna have sex with you", he says without warning. It's atypical for him, he's very shy.

"Baby I dont think that works out right now",

"but whyyy?", Luke gets tearful.

"You have an head injury!".

"You think I'm a sucker in bed!", he replies in a stubborn tone.

"No don't get me wrong!", you never imagined you both have this conversation in the hospital one day.

"Yes you do. I'm lucky I married you before you could leave me because of that", his monitor signals louder because his heartbeat gets faster.

"You really need to rest and chill baby", you hope the topic is closed now.

"Just if you tell me you want to have Sex with me too!", you roll your eyes. "I won't say this!", you place your hands on your hip. A nurse comes in and controls his vital values until he speaks out, "Marriage is hard", he huffs. The nurse laughs off.

"We're not married. Before we reach this step you have to ask me!", your poor nerves. Honestly you need a drink to get through this. And chocolate cake.

Luke wants to stand up out of his bed, "babyyy lets go! I'm ready to get some actionnn with youu", he tipsy says. Luke's cheeks are rosy and and he looks like he gets fever. You lovely push him back to bed. "Lukey I love having sex with you but god damn lay down or I'll cain you on this bed!".

"Uhh I love when you take control", he smirks.

"Man you knocked out on ice and all you can think is about this?! and y'all say I'm the cheeky one!", you turn around behind you, hearing a familiar voice. It was his older brother.

Ellen, Jim and Jack watched this amused scenario. "Mooom", Luke groans. Ellen goes straight to his bed, hugs him and strokes his curly hair. "Can I help you with something? It looked really bad!", his mother says. "Why have you to interrupt me and my wife? Its getting hot in there", Luke is outraged.

"Lukey its fever and no sexual attraction, I'm sorry guys, he's dazed from the drugs", you try the best to get out of his embarrassing moment. "Mooom?", he calls her name again in a wailing way. "Yes?", she holds his other hand and focused. "Can I borrow your ring? I need to do a proposal". Ellen don't know what to say. Jim stays quite in the cornor as opposed to Jack. He grins the whole time and records some videos. "I have to send this to Quinn! Made my day!".

"Don't be so mean", Jim replies. "Daaaadddd?", comes from the big boy in bed. Jim steps next to Ellen, looking down to his son. "Why I'm the third one and not the first child? Didn't you make any effort to get me?", he whines. "Can't believe my smartest son asks such a stupid question", Jim shakes his head and hugs Luke, too. They don't care about this delirious state, the ony thing that matters is, he's okay. (Of course Jack will show their whole family these videos later).

[zweiginator]

Thinking about very very innocent reader who has barely any sex education being all confused why she feels all achy and sticky between her legs when talking to her best friend patrick. She (who hates keeping secrets) of course tells him this and he being the good friend that he is offers to help check down there to make sure everything is okay. (perv patrick…you mean so much to me)

you're so so confused because lately you've been feeling so weird. it's the worst when you're eating ice cream with patrick or watching him play tennis. it was almost unbearable when you went swimming with him and his bare chest brushed against you as he picked you up to throw you in the deep end.

it feels weird--but not bad. fiery in your tummy and down there.

you start biting your lips, the inside of your cheeks as patrick explains a tennis match to you. he points to the tv but you don't even know what he's saying, you're too focused on squeezing your thighs together. the odd sensation is overpowering without the friction. should you be worried?

"are you okay?" he caresses your forehead to check for a fever. god, it's just getting worse.

"i--dunno. maybe. i just feel weird."

patrick furrows his eyebrows. "maybe you ate something weird? but we ate the same thing and i feel fine."

"i don't know--it doesn't feel like that but it's in my tummy area."

patrick touches your lower stomach. "here? does that make it better?" he massages the skin.

"no--" you start to feel fluttery. light and euphoric but it's so uncomfortable. like you need some kind of release.

"well tell me about it." patrick is serious, doting. wants to get to the bottom of this.

"it's in between my legs. like, down there." you're too shy to say the word.

"how does it feel?" patrick's face softens. he tries to hide a smug smile.

"sticky. wet--like different."

"does it feel bad?"

"not really." you shake your head.

patrick touches your thigh. there it goes again. you feel like you're soaking through your panties. your eyebrows are knit together and your nerves feel like they're on fire with hypersensitivity.

"let me see?" he nudges your legs apart.

"like, down there?"

"yeah, i think i can make it better. i can show you."

"uh--i don't know--" you cross your arms over your chest.

"if you wanna feel better you need to let me."

"oh--okay." you spread your legs and patrick draws in the breath. he can see your panties are completely soaked as your skirt bunches up around your thighs.

"tell me how this feels. does it feel good?" you don't know what he's talking about, but then he pushes your panties to the side and he rubs his thumb over your clit.

you mewl. "yeah--yeah that f-feels good."

he stops. he wants you to beg for it. he scoots closer to you. the unbearable pressure in your stomach returns.

"why'd you stop--that was making it better."

"yeah?" he holds the back of your head and kisses your forehead. "what do you want?"

"i want you--to do that." you nod your head down to your exposed cunt.

"do what?" he's teasing you; he does this all the time but this time it's different. it's meaner. it frustrates you more and you huff.

"i want you to keep touching me--"

patrick pulls you in so his forehead is resting against yours. he feels your soaked slit and rubs his middle finger over you before sliding it in. "do you want your best friend to touch your pussy?"

the word makes your cheeks flush, but you nod, not realizing you had yanked him in by his shirt.

he stops fucking you with his fingers.

"huh?"

"patrick-" you whimper and rock your hips against his fingers, idle inside you.

"do you know why you're feeling this way down here?" patrick curls his fingers, his thumb moving precise circles over your sensitive clit.

you shake your head. "i dunno--"

he takes his free hand and cups your jaw, his fingers speeding up. the lewd squelching of his fingers pushing deeper and deeper inside you are making that feeling inside you unravel and you moan, your eyes rolling back as patrick rubs your clit faster and faster. your head lolls back but patrick lifts it back up. tells you to open your eyes and look at him. look at what your best friend is doing to you.

"it's because you like me, don't you? you want me to fuck you." his fingers slow; you feel them more as they slide in and out and in and out again. "just like this. or maybe with my cock."

your hips jerk and patrick slams them down. "is that right?" he asks. "you want me to fuck you with my cock next?"

you can't answer him as your orgasm--your first one--rips through you, tearing that pressure down and down and down as you gush over his fingers, your own gripping his wrist so hard you can feel his pulse.

if you didn't want your best friend before this, you sure do now, as you watch him suck his soaked fingers into his mouth.

[deathofacupid]

dude (blurb) | jake peralta

summary: "dude" but romantically.

warnings: none.

pairing: fem!reader x jake peralta (friends to lovers)

word count: 0.8k+ words

"okay, but i'm serious! you have to try it, it's literally amazing."

"i was gonna take your word for it, but i remembered it's you... so, no."

"dude," he whined, a soft smile adorning his lips.

"dude," you say back, same tone.

"fine, fine, what if i make you one? that's, like, no work required. y'know minus chewing."

"jacob jeffrey peralta, i am not, not even on my deathbed, trying pickles with ice cream. that's just a new level of gross."

"but charles approved it!"

"why on earth would that affect whether or not i try it?"

"y'know, i have no clue. i'm getting desperate."

"i can see that."

"dudeeee," he kicks his feet on the floor as he's sitting next to you on the couch. die hard is playing on the tv in his apartment, but the two of you have seen it so many times, you practically have it memorized by heart.

and why would you ever watch die hard when jake's sitting right there?

between you and yourself, you know which you'd rather watch. okay, "watch" sounded creepy.

you're laying on his lap as he's looking down at you, pouting.

you roll your eyes, but it's all fun. "dudeeee."

truth be told, you're sure you can handle the odd food combo, but teasing him and drawing this out is so much more fun. god, you really are in love with him.

"pretty, pretty, please? with- with, like, seven cherries on top?"

"just seven?" you pretend to be offended.

"i'm a brokie, the best i can do is eight." jake runs a hand through your hair, it's so comforting.

you sigh, "all right."

"to the cherries or the pream?"

"the- the what now?"

"pickles. ice cream. pickles and ice cream. pream? yeah, you know what, that's... that's not it. doesn't roll of the tongue great."

"oh, yeah. that, and it sounds like an std."

"good point. i'm gonna assume you meant the... cream... pi... creampi-"

"i'm gonna stop you right there."

he nods quickly. "right. what about cream-"

"not if it starts with 'cream', dude."

"icickles?"

"n-"

"piccream!"

"if i try your 'dish'," you air quote, "will you stop trying to come up with names."

"maybe."

you give him a look, and he amends, "yes. maybe. i pledge to do my best." jake salutes you, then pokes your check. you scowl, swatting him away and sitting up.

"lead me to your kitchen."

"sure. it's five steps that-a-way," he says, pointing to the kitchen that is quite exactly five steps away. like a true gentleman, jake scoops you - through which you protest ("dude!") - and then (after six steps, actually [wow, his apartment is slightly bigger than hypothesized]) sets you on the counter.

"i feel like you should know that i'm perfectly capable of walking on my own."

"but why would you when i'm here?"

"dude."

"dude," he replies, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer.

"how are you even supposed to eat this? like... spread it? o-or dip?"

jake grabs a spoon and scoops some ice cream onto it. "watch, young jedi."

"i don't-"

"shh, i'm yoda-ing." he spreads it on the pickle and shoves it in your face. slowly, you sniff it. it doesn't smell... like anything bad, really.

it doesn't look great though. "is it too late to go back?"

"yes." after a second, he groans, "gah, i'll go first." he takes a bite, and you make a face.

"mmm... you shouf knodis is-"

"jake, swallow."

he grins and you furrow your brows. "what- oh. oh! jake!" your cheeks heat up so quickly, for a number of reason. because, yeah, obviously the second one sounds better.

also, of course that's what he instantly goes to.

"oh, my god. are you twelve or thirty-three? because i honestly can't tell."

"dude, i'm well-versed. you wouldn't understand."

"i'm... twenty-five. wo-wouldn't i-?"

"schematics."

"yeah, okay, bud."

"dude," he corrects.

"right," you murmur, "dude."

you don't really realize how he's leaning in, the way if you do too, your lips would touch. you falter, and you can feel warm breath minglingwith yours.

jake cups your cheek and you lean into it. you aren't sure what's about to happen, though it should be obvious. but with jake, you're nervous, afraid that this isn't really happening.

you have no clue what he's done with the pickle, and you have no clue why that's what's on your mind right now.

he squeezes your waist gently, a way of asking for permission. you nod, and at first, it's just a brush. just a brush of his lips against yours, feeling for some type of sense that this is happening. that it's reality.

you press back against him, your hand on top of his, the one on your face. your other hand blindly feels for his hair, tugging against his soft, brown curls.

when you pull away, you're breathing hard. not because of the kiss, because it wasn't aggressive or any longer than twenty seconds, but because of the adrenaline of it all.

"dude," he breathes, and you giggle.

"y'taste like pickles. and ice cream. it's actually not that bad," you admit. "at least not on you."

"dude," jake repeats, dumb-founded at what just happened.

you peck him again, right on the lips, "dude."

[secret-sturniolo]

i love you more - chris sturniolo

based on this request - hi! i saw that u we’re taking requests, so what about chris x reader smut. maybe reader has a bad day and just needs a little extra love, so she goes to chris for comfort and it’s a gentle sex type thing? possibly w a daddy kink, but only if you’re comfortable with that

warnings - smut, (don't like, don't read), slight daddy kink, soft sex, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe please)

a/n - reupload :)

I fought back the tears in my eyes as I got into my car after a long day at work. I had been berated not once, but twice by customers over something that not only wasn't my fault, but also out of my control. Normally, I could take a little negativity from people, but today I was overtired and emotional and all the patience I had flew out the window. The icing on the cake was that my boss also blamed me for making the customers upset, so I was yelled at for a third time that day. By the end of my shift, all I could think about was my boyfriend Chris waiting for me at home. I knew it wasn't good to drive when you are crying, so I held everything in until I got back to the triplets house. I just wanted to be wrapped in Chris's arms.

I pulled into the driveway and opened the front door, where Chris was waiting for me on the couch. He jumped up when he saw me, and I burst into tears.

"Oh baby, what's wrong?" he asked me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

Through tears, I had told him everything that had happened to me today.

"I just want you, Chris." I mumbled into his chest.

"Yeah?" he asked me, pulling back and tilting my head up towards him.

Without a word, I pressed my lips against his, our tongues immediately fighting for dominance. After a while, Chris pulls away.

"Matt and Nick won't be back for a while. You wanna take this to my room, let me show you how much I love you?" he says, looking into my eyes.

"Please."

He grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk down the stairs to his bedroom. He gently lays me back onto his soft comforter, kissing me once again.

"This is all about you, okay y/n? I want you to feel good." he says against my lips.

"I love you Chris."

"I love you more than anything, y/n."

As we continue kissing, he slides my shirt up over my head and unclips my bra with one swift motion.

"God, you're beautiful." he says, kissing down my chest, taking my nipples into his mouth.

Before going any further, he slides his shirt off and steps out of his sweatpants, leaving him only in his boxers. He hooks his fingers into my underwear, and I nod, giving him permission to go further. He swiftly pulls them down before diving into my folds.

"Fuck, Chris!" I whined, as he began licking at my clit.

He hummed against me, sending waves of pleasure to my body. He adds a finger as he continues eating me out, stretching me out in all the right ways. I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach, like a knot beginning to tighten.

"Chris, I'm gonna cum!" I announce.

He keeps going, indicating that he wanted me to cum. My vision gets spotty as I reach my climax, my hips thrusting up into his face. After I ride out my high, he pulls away and looks up at me with a smile.

"Oh my god, that was amazing." I tell him.

"Ready for some more?" he asks me.

"Don't you want me to suck you off?" I ask, confused.

"Oh, of course I want that but tonight is all about you, y/n. I want to make you feel good."

"I can't argue with that!" I giggle.

I watch him pull off his boxers, his dick springing up, finally free from the restricting fabric. He had a drop of precum on his pink tip, a sign of how much he was turned on. He teases me, running his tip through my folds and against my clit. It felt good, but I wanted more.

"More, Chris!"

He leans down to kiss me.

"You ready, princess?"

I nod at him, giving him doe eyes.

He slowly pushes into me, giving me a chance to warm up to his size. He lets out a groan as he bottoms out. He gives me a moment, then begins slowly thrusting in and out, almost pulling out before bottoming out again. This was different than our usual sex, but in this moment I didn't care. I felt so loved and safe.

"Can you go a little faster?" I ask him.

"Yeah? You want it faster?"

"Yes, please daddy."

He groans at the name, picking up the pace a little, still wanting to keep it soft and slow. He attaches his lips to my neck, sucking hickies into it while still thrusting in and out of me. We continued, with him whispering I love you in my ear over and over again. I felt myself getting close again.

"Chris, I'm close."

"Me too baby, come with me." he says, his thrusts getting sloppier.

We were both a moaning mess as we came together. I felt Chris's hips sputter and his dick twitched as he came inside me. His movements came to a stop before he pulled out, laying beside me.

"Chris, I love you so much."

"I know baby, I love you more." he replies, catching his breath.

We didn't even bother putting our clothes back on, we were both too tired. He pulled me into his side, and I laid my head against his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. He pulled the blankets over us, and I sighed with content at the warm, cozy feeling. The events of my day had long been forgotten as I laid with the man I loved, and I knew that as long as I had him by my side, everything was going to be okay.

[princessbrunette]

ok on the mandalorian topic..

feeling rich boy bounty hunter rafe with the mask and people don’t know who he is!!! (to protect identity ofc)

if reader got kidnapped she’d not even know it’s rafe!! his voice isn’t familiar (esp muffled by the helmet) so she thinks he’s a rando!!!!!

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹ 🦢

i love the idea that you’ve socialised with rafe before, thinking he’s the perfect charming gentleman at all the galas or political events you were forced to attend — only to eventually be thrown over a shoulder and taken back to a holding cell in a ship, something familiar that you can’t put your finger on about the drawl of the masked bounty hunter who took you.

“i can pay you, whoever instructed you to take me i can buy them out. name a price, please! just let me go. i don’t want any trouble!” you shudder, eyes watering as you huddle in your constraints, staring up at the masked hunter.

“yeah, i know you don’t want trouble alright? neither do i…” the hunter shakes his head tiredly setting down all his weapons and equipment that he’d used to kidnap you as the ship hums on autopilot, filling the silence between the two of you. “look i swear i don’t… want trouble either. m’not going to hurt you. understand?”

you furrow your eyebrows, not sure how trusting you should be of the man who threw you over his shoulder and took you away from your home planet. he goes to remove his mask, clicking the side and letting it hiss before placing his hands to lift it and you gasp from habit, hands flying over your eyes. it was forbidden to see a mandalorian without his mask so you thought.

“i’m not a mandalorian kid, open your eyes.” he sounds exasperated and you frown, eyes flickering open to follow the familiar tone. rafe cameron stands before you.

“rafe?” you breathe and he licks his lips, eyes resisting a roll at the fear in your tone as he walks to set his mask down.

“yes— okay, i know. didn’t wanna have to do this shit either trust me but i needed you to hear me out.” he walks over before squatting down infront of you, slowing his movements and lifting his hands to show he comes in peace when you flinch. “we… we can mutually benefit eachother here. just… hear me out.” he gazes at you intensely, wide eyes flickering between your own.

“what is it you want?” you whisper, stiff as a board.

“uh… your hand. in marriage.” he nods, itching his temple. you say nothing, eyes only widening.

“are you joking?”

“yeah okay i get it, big bad rafe cameron, right? you’d never wanna marry me, whatever — look, your planet is about to get fuckin’ invaded. i got people on the inside of this war tellin’ me there are ships armed to the god damn teeth on the way to naboo right now wanting to blow that shit up, so right now i’m your only friend alright. my dad… he— he can get you out of this. but you need me. alright?”

you stare in shock, sick to your stomach as you thought of anyone on your planet getting injured in the name of war — something you didn’t truly support in the first place. you wasn’t sure just how far you’d go to save your people. your eyes well up, and after a moment you speak.

“and what exactly do you get from this, rafe?”

he shrugs, mouth turned downwards as he pushes himself to his feet again to pace and put some distance between you. “the trust of the public. people— people love you, right? you’re the peoples princess, y-you can’t do wrong in their eyes. i’m on thin ice with the council. my image is uh… kind of relying on this. you’re gonna save me.”

you want to yell at him, you want to refuse. but as you tug weakly on the metal cuff keeping you by a chain to the wall, you start to accept that you might not have much choice here.

♛ ⋆˙₊˚⊹ 🦢

[mollyrolls]

hey cupid! ☆ iwaizumi h. x reader

5. Maturity

warnings: language, implied kms joke, iwaizumi might be a little ooc but its fine, lmk what i miss

an: ignore timestamps they’re misleading

prev. / mlist. / next

taglist is open!

☆ this chapter contains written content! ☆

Iwazumi was finally safe. He had made his peace, started to get over whatever weird spell she’d put on him, and was ready to forget her forever.

He's decided to take the road of Maturity. Not letting the little things get to him, but focused on supporting himself and his friends.

And he's going to support himself with a large iced americano to cure the worst hangover known to man.

He tipped the barista extra today. He's not bothered by his friends using twitter over private messages. Even the song playing in the cafe was pleasant. Maturity really is the way to live a life.

“Iwaizumi?”

No. Nope, nope, nope. He must be dreaming. No, not dreaming. Having a nightmare. The only way he would be hearing this voice again is in his nightmares. Reliving the worst night of his life on an endless loop. 

“Iwaizumi, I know it's you.”

Okay, great. She’s here and unavoidable. He takes a minute to think over his options. Maturely.

Continue to ignore her and let her run her mouth until he leaves (promising). 

Talk to her and get her to leave him alone (unlikely).

Pretend he doesn’t know her and say she has the wrong person (embarrassing for both parties. Not worth it).

As he's pondering this she lets out a defeated sigh. Somehow, without even trying, he’s won. 2-0 Iwaizumi, and it's all because of Matur-

“I’m sorry.”

He blanks, not expecting those words to even be in her vocabulary. Realizing she's not joking, he doesn’t fight the self satisfied smirk that spreads across his face as he finally looks up at her.

“For what?”

She clearly doesn’t want to be doing this. Even less so now that he's got leverage on her.

“For whatever you want. I’m sorry for talking, I guess, even though if I hadn’t then-”

Clearly, Maturity was a one-way street.

“Yeah, I’m not doing this.”

He shouldn’t be surprised really, rehashing an argument for the sake of it seems like it’s right up her alley. He goes back to his phone.

“Wait. Just hear me out.”

He almost laughs. “And why would I do that?”

“Because you care about Bokuto and his happiness. I think. I don’t really know though, you don’t seem to have that much of a heart at all.”

God. It’s like she went back to the time of his birth, got a manual for ‘how to annoy the ever-living shit out of Iwaizumi Hajime’, and studied it cover to cover. “If you want me to hear you out this is not the way to start.”

“Fine. God. You care about Bokuto and want him to be happy with Akaashi, right?”

He nods.

“And I care about Akaashi and want him to be with Bokuto. We have a common goal.”

“What are you getting at?” He knows what she’s suggesting, and he’s thought about it himself. It makes him nauseous but the life of Maturity demands it. 

“If they ask us to come along with them again, can we both agree to be civil? You don’t have to like me because I certainly don’t like you, but we can’t argue through the whole thing again.” 

Even in her peace treaty, she can’t resist getting a jab in. She truly might be the death of him.

But Hajime can also see that she means it. She must really care about Akaashi to be putting herself- and him- through this.

He pauses, lets her sweat for a minute. “Fine. On one condition.”

She lets out an obnoxiously loud sigh and gestures for him to continue. Any growing respect he had for her is immediately squashed. 

“I won’t pick any fights as long as you give them some space to talk.”

He might be being overly cruel to her, knowing full well that he plans on being cordial. But this seems to get to her in the same way that anything she does gets to him, and he can’t resist.

She physically bites her tongue twice. The internal debate going in her head almost makes him laugh because she has no poker face and Hajime can see how badly she wants to push back.

“Iced Americano for Iwaizumi?”

Wait. That’s not her voice.

It seems she unknowingly sucked him into a time warp. He’s almost late for class, and he can tell by the panic on hers that she’s in a similar situation. If his coffee hadn’t been called, they might have been talking there for the rest of the day.

“Um, I have to go. We can discuss your…condition later.”

She’s gone within the second. Iwaizumi picks up his coffee, feeling overly cold in his clammy hands, and waits just a bit too long before leaving too.

fun facts!

☆ akaashi is kinda regretting ever asking Bokuto out because he's never fought with yn so much and its getting to him.

☆ tsukki and kenma are TIREDDDD. they know something went down and are considering real threats to get yn to spill.

☆ bokuto has fully doxxed a hangout spot once because he constantly forgets he's semi twitter famous

and most importantly,

☆ having to tell yourself you're being mature is the most mature thing out there! yep! an: i know the end is rushed but i don't want to fix it sorry

prev. / mlist. / next

taglist: open! fill out here.

@chemiru, @whosmarjj, @seroh, @skrunkly-soaked-rat, @yessimo,

@walllflowerrrsss, @bae-ashlynn, @themoonismymarble, @ryuverse, @yuminako

[luvhughes43]

don’t have to pretend | blake hughes au

blake hughes au

summary: how blake hughes and nico hischier finally confess their feelings for each other

word count: 4.1k

“Nico, you know you don’t have to keep coming over anymore,” Blake whispered. she had been thinking a lot about their relationship lately, or lack thereof. she didn’t know how much longer she could take being so incredibly infatuated with him but unable to say anything. 

Nico looked confused, like the idea of not coming over to visit Blake was incomprehensible. Blake stared at Nico, waiting for him to respond. she hoped he would say that he wanted to be with her, that he had feelings for her… anything to suggest that he wasn’t just here to make her brothers playing less sloppy. she had watched the games, she knew that Jack was struggling and the reason was probably her. 

“I want to come over,” Nico finally responded, and although that's what Blake wanted to hear it wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be. 

They both sat in silence for a moment, drinking hot chocolates out of mugs decorated with little ice skates. “yeah but, if you’re here just because of Jack then-”

“I’m not,” Nico butted in. They both stared at each other. 

“Right well,” Blake was the first to shift away from Nico’s heated gaze, uncomfortable in whatever awkward tension she had just created. 

Nico cursed himself in his mind. She doesn’t want you like that, he kept repeating over and over again. Although, no matter how many times he told himself that Blake wasn’t interested in him, he would still hold out on any string of hope that he had. 

They had really connected over the few months that they had gotten to know each other, and either would be damned if they let that all go to waste. So, they both held on without knowing that the other person felt the exact same way. 

*

“You're going to get cold,” Jack had pointed out to Blake as he picked her up to go out. but of course, she decided against better judgement and had decided to wear her sluttiest top without any form of coverup so that she wouldn’t chicken out.

Jack hadn’t mentioned Blakes tiny top, and so she counted it as a win that his critique came in the form of needing something warm. “Like, I'm seriously not going to give you my jacket when you start complaining,” he continued with the roll of his eyes. 

“If all goes well tonight i won't need your jacket,” Blake had rebutted to Jack's distaste. 

“Yeah well, with your luck you're going to be single forever so I'll be waiting for you to complain about the cold,” Jack teased. 

“Right and… where’s your girlfriend?” Blake played into the sibling banter. “Last I saw your ex was on a lingerie mag and here you are… coming over to your sister's place before going out so she can help you pick out an outfit….” 

“Right, okay I'm done fighting now!” Jack said, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “But seriously, do these pants match with this top,”

“You're wearing black skinny jeans, anything you wear is going to match, now go!” Blake responded, shooing Jack out of her apartment and into the hallway. She looked at her reflection in the mirror one last time before leaving, making a mental note to put on some more lip gloss in the car. 

“Who are you trying to impress anyway?” Jack had shouted once he and Blake got inside the bar. He was trying to find his teammates among the crowd, but it was no luck.

“None of your business!” she shouted back, catching the boy of her affections eye from across the bar. “Nico’s over there!” she yelled, turning to her brother who was already being pulled into conversation by somebody else. It seemed like fate was on Blake's side as she made long strides over to Nico who was, luckily, alone. 

Nico looked hot, and god… the things Blake wanted to do to him… she should be locked up. 

Blake wasn’t the only one appreciating the view though, because Nico was very clearly checking out his teammate's sister. His eyes trailed down Blakes face and onto her top, and if Blake had noticed him shift in his seat she hadn’t said anything. 

“You look good tonight!” Nico had leaned over so that Blake could hear him through the loud music. Blakes face burned at his comment, and she was glad that the bar's lighting was dim otherwise it would be very obvious that she liked her brother's captain. although, liked seemed like a very meager word when her whole world turned upside down upon seeing his dimples. 

“And you look very handsome!” Blake had turned her head close to his. She was going to need a few drinks if she was going to be this close to him all night. Especially, when all his teammates were here. 

Nicos face lit up with a smile, and Blakes immediately matched it with a bright smile of her own. 

“Sit beside me,” Nico said, pulling out the last empty chair beside him. He was still waiting for his drink. 

Blake easily complied, smoothly sliding the bar stool as close to Nico as was possible without raising suspicions. “So….” 

“Soo…” Nico copied Blake, both giggling at each other. They were two lovesick fools and yet, they didn’t recognize that the other was also helplessly in love. 

“So, how have you been?” Blake smiled, leaning an elbow onto the bar so that she was even closer to the brown eyed man. She was so down bad…

“I’ve been good, just waiting for a pretty girl to come sit with me, you?” he replied flirtatiously. 

“I’m really good! just waiting for a hot man to order me a drink…” she trailed off, focusing her gaze away from Nico and back to the bar staff.

“What do you want?” he said, already pulling out his wallet. 

A bartender came over to their section, dropping off a cold beer in front of Nico while offering all sorts of apologies for the wait time. He waved the waiter ramblings off, and instead looked towards Blake for her order. 

“A vodka cran,” she told the bartender, “double shot” 

Nico had handed over the cash. 

After some more harmless flirting, Nico led Blake back to the team’s table where she was greeted by everyone. 

“Nice outfit,” one of the boys piped up, eyes trailing down Blakes body. she was wearing some jeans and a tight corset top that pushed her boobs up just right…

“Don’t talk to my sister,” Jack huffed, swatting the guy in the chest. 

At Jack's words, your eyes immediately turned to catch Nico’s who was already staring at you. He looked torn, and before you could make any sort of move to question him he was shuffling chairs and sitting as far away from Jack as was possible. 

All night, Blake had been trying to catch Nico’s attention from down the table. He barely glanced in her direction for the rest of the night, and now she was afraid that when he did she’d start to cry. She felt so pathetic as the other guy's attention fell to her chest, reminding her that the guy she was trying to get wanted nothing to do with her at this moment. 

“I'm going to get another drink,” Blake said as she swirled the ice around in her cup. Jack nodded at her, and then she was walking towards the bar by herself.

Blake let the bartender make her “something special”, and she sat at the bar watching him pour a shit ton of juice and gin into her cup.

“Hey, you new here?” Some guy, blond and skinny sat in one of the many available seats next to Blake.

“uh no i’m not. Is that your opening line?” she huffed, giving the bartender a tip when she finally came back with her drink. Yes, Blake was being rude to the guy but she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Something that was impossible to happen in a bar at 1am. 

“Uh, can I have this dance?” The guy tried to correct himself, and Blake cringed as a mix of two songs from 2010 blared through the bars speakers. 

“No you cant-” Blake said, just as her head turned just enough for her to see a girl approach Nico. she couldn’t make out what they were saying, just that he was smiling in the same way he was earlier.  

“Actually,” Blake corrected herself, and the blond guy turned to his group of friends as if to say “i told you so, girls cant resist my charm…” 

the girl touched Nicos arm… “I’ll dance with you!” Blake forced a smile onto her face, turning back to the bar one last time to take a large swig out of her drink.

The blond guy grabbed her hand, and with a deep breath Blake let herself be dragged onto the dance floor which was coincidentally right beside the table filled with her brother's friends. 

The blond guy, who still didn't have a name, spun Blake around so that her back was against his front. she tried to lean back into him, but it all felt so wrong. 

The guy guided her hips, and her face heated up in shame as her brother's teammates started turning their attention towards her. 

Blake turned herself back around, now facing the guy who brought her to dance. they swayed together for a few more minutes, and as soon as the next song finished Blake was immediately bidding her goodbyes. 

She rushed over to the table, ignoring the blond guy's shouts for her snap. she grabbed her purse from her brother's chair. “Can we please leave Jack,” she practically yelled in his ear. 

he turned to his sister with a look of concern in his eyes. “Did he do something..?” he said, gesturing to the guy from earlier who was now retreating back to his group of friends. 

Blake shook her head. “I think i’m getting a headache,” 

Jack stood up then, waving to his teammates as he bid them all goodbyes. 

Nico had tried to catch Blakes eyes, but she refused to look in his direction.

By the time she and Jack got out to the car, she could feel tears of frustration threatening to fall. She had to keep her head glued to the window so as to not raise any suspicions with Jack, who was well… oblivious to all things that weren't in his direct line of sight. 

“Thanks for driving me home!” her words were rushed as she scrambled out of his car. “I’ll call you in the morning!” 

When her apartment door slammed shut behind her, Blake broke out into quiet sobs. She just wanted the mood from seeing Nico at the bar to continue for the rest of the night. It seemed that despite how hard she tried, nothing would ever come out of whatever she and Nico had going on. 

*

When Blake was 15, she had dated this guy who had lived a few doors down from her. The relationship didn’t last long, but sometimes Blake liked to think about the boy who broke her heart. Usually at night, usually when she was upset, and usually when she had nothing better to do than upset herself with her own life's events.

He had been nice at first, someone Jack had talked to a few times when he was out playing street hockey. She couldn't remember if Ryder had ever joined Jack and her brothers games, but that didn’t matter much anyway. 

What mattered was Blake overhearing him tell his group of friends that the only reason he was dating her was because she was going to compete in the olympics. 

“she’s like, the perfect girlfriend to have,” he had said to his friends. “i never have to see her, she's a champion, and like, I can make out with her and shit whenever i want,”

The last part hurt the most. Ryder was the first guy she had ever kissed and really been with. She didn’t have time to have boyfriends that weren’t always at the rink or the gym. Her seeking out Ryder and being with him was her own little act of deviance. 

Now that she’d gone to enough therapy sessions though, she was sure that the reason she wasn’t upset that he was with her because of her titles was because she wanted to be with herself because of her titles. When she was younger, she was solely defined by her medals. Therefore, it came to no surprise to Blake that her relationships would be defined by her achievements too. 

Anyway, that didn’t stop her crying to her older brother about the whole thing. 

She had bursted through Quinn’s door, tears silently streaming down her face as she fell face first onto his bed. He had brushed her hair from her face, asking her what was wrong. 

“He’s using me,” she had said, and Quinn looked upset enough for the both of them. 

“He’s such a fucking asshole,” he had said, looking at his younger sister with so much pity. “He doesn’t deserve somebody like you,” 

At the time, Blake wasn’t sure what “somebody like you,” had meant. All her life she was defined by her skills, her body, her wins and loses… she wished figure skating and relationships didn’t have to be so difficult. 

She hadn’t seen Ryder again after that. She had made no effort to go and see him, and Blake could’ve sworn she saw him slowly sneaking back inside his house whenever her brothers would go outdoors. 

Now at 20, Blake lays in her bed and reminisces on all the shitty parts of her life with a new lens. She remembers Ryder and how he had used her, her coach and how she forced Blake to compete through injuries, and then her mind turned to Nico. who hadn't necessarily done anything to hurt Blake but his lack of action made her feel pathetic. 

How is it that a man can flirt with you at a bar, make you believe for weeks that he truly likes you, and then refuse to make eye contact with you later? 

Blake’s head spun like one of those spins she used to practice. She had thought of calling Quinn but then what? She had already told him how convinced she was that Nico had liked her. It would just be embarrassing now to have to tell him that now she wasn’t so sure.

So, Blake did what she did best, wallowed in her own self-pity until she eventually drifted off into sleep.

*

A few days later Nico came knocking on Blakes door. She wasn’t surprised to see him, but she had already decided that she shouldn’t talk to him anymore. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come over anymore,” she had told him. She hadn’t let him step through the threshold of her apartment, and she hadn’t changed her mind under his soft gaze. 

“But… Blake?”

“Nico, I'm really busy right now. There's a lot of stuff that i’m going through and I cant handle-”

“You can’t handle hanging out with me?” he had said, voice quiet. 

Blake had to look away from his pointed gaze, wanting nothing more than to just confess her feelings. But if Nico did like her like she thought he did, then his reaction to what Jack had said at the bar a few nights ago just proved to her that a relationship just wouldn't work out. And so, as Blake always does, she prioritised what she thought would end up working in the long run. Instead of pushing through pain to win medals, she was pushing through her feelings for Nico to protect her heart. 

“I’m sorry,” she had whispered to him, gaze falling to the floor when he finally walked away from her. 

*

Nico had thought that he was doing the right thing. Sure, he had let things go too far when he started flirting with Blake at the bar. But come on, she was so gorgeous, and she was exactly the kind of person that he wanted to be with. Forget “kind of person”, Nico thought. She was literally the only person he wanted to see or talk to. 

He thought that maybe he was taking advantage of her in some way. after he had started stopping by her house and visiting, and they had become friends… Jack had started telling him stories of Blakes abusive childhood. He couldn't even imagine growing up in a sport so toxic. And then of course there was her career ending injury, which is the reason behind them even starting to hang out. 

Blake Hughes was vulnerable, she was hurt and she was upset, and Nico wasn’t sure if love was even something she was looking for right now. He felt like he was stepping over some sort of invisible line, and that if Blake didn’t reciprocate his feelings, she wouldn't want to talk to him anymore. 

But he was proven to be right regardless, because Blake wasn’t talking to him and he had no idea why. 

*

blake.hughes added to their story!

The devil’s holiday event was lackluster. Jack had caught the eye of some pretty brunette and so he was off flirting and doing god-knows what. She had hoped that by now that Jack would stop insisting she came to these kinds of events and outings. But Blake guessed watching Titanic every night for the last week counted as a setback in her recovery journey. 

She swirled the drink in her cup, watching mindlessly as couples mingled and talked amongst themselves. This was just getting depressing. 

As the night continued nothing changed. She sat in her spot by the bar, conversing with the bartenders with as limited a vocabulary as possible. If her mother were here, she would definitely be scolding Blake for being rude. 

“You okay?” one of the girlfriends had asked Blake as they waited at the bar for another drink. Blake had nodded respectively, and when that didn’t appease the girl she sighed. 

“Boy troubles, you know?” she laughed, hoping that the awkwardness would be too much and that the girl would take the hint and leave. 

“Hit me,” she had said instead, and so that’s how Blake spent the next 45 minutes explaining to Jesper Bratts girlfriend all the ways in which an anonymous man had shown feelings for her. 

“I mean, it really sounds like he likes you. you know how men are, maybe you should make the first move?” the blonde had replied. 

“But there’s a lot at stake here… this guy is.. Well,”

“Standing over there?” Bratts girlfriend said, pointing to Nico Hischier. He looked gorgeous, and if Blake wasn’t so shocked that she had guessed correctly she probably would have melted to a puddle on the floor. 

Blake fumbled with what to say, opening and closing her mouth pathetically as her gaze moved from Nico to the girl perched in front of her. 

“You guys aren’t very subtle, Blake” she said, patting the girl on the shoulder before launching into strategies in which Blake could “get her man”.

After the talk and another drink, Blake was ready to pour out all of her feelings to Nico because when she really thought about it, could life get anymore awful? she was already never going to be able to figure skate again, and she and Nico weren’t talking… nothing could possibly be worse than this. 

Wrong. 

In the 35 minutes it took for Bratts girlfriend to convince Blake to confess her feelings to Nico, he had moved on. Like, literally moved on from the group of guys he was talking to and onto a far too attractive blonde. 

Life was actually cruel. 

Like they always do, Blake and Nico caught eyes, and before he could make a move to come talk to her she was pushing past people to get towards the exit. She’d text Jack that she left when she was far, far, away from this cursed event. 

*

Blake had just taken off her heels and pulled the backs of her earrings off when loud knocks echoed off her front door. 

“Jack, I literally told you I was going home. I’m fine!” she stressed, yanking open the door without really looking at who was standing outside. 

“It’s not Jack,” Nico’s voice was soft. Blake paused where she was standing, slowly turning so that she was face to face with the man of the last few weeks… Nico. 

He looked even better up close. His beard was shaven, tie a little loose. He was her weakness if that kind of thing even mattered anymore. 

“Nico,” she had breathed out, like she hadn’t imagined a single possibility in which he could be standing right in front of her. The weeks had seemed that long. Like there was no possibility that he’d still be waiting for her. 

“Blake,” he sighed, walking into the apartment and shutting the door softly behind him.

“I really like you, you know that right?” she admitted. “Like, every time I'm with you I feel so calm and yet so overwhelmed with the idea that you were made for me?”

Nico didn’t have a chance to react before Blake continued saying her thoughts out loud. “Whenever I'm near you I get butterflies and I've never felt that way about anyone before. You're, youre so different to anyone I've ever known. And I know that you're Jack's captain and that I'm his sister and that could make things really awkward for you but I really don't care! Because I like you and Jack’s just going to have to get over that when the time comes,”

“I bought your jersey! I don't even own my twins jersey!” she continued, pulling out her phone from her small shoulder bag. She flicked it open, pulling up her duolingo streak. “And Duolingo! I have Duolingo to try and learn Swiss German!” 

“Nico, if you don't feel the same way that's fine. I'm so sorry for thinking there was something between us,” Blake began apologizing, dropping the phone to her side as she started to calm down from the shocks of the evening. 

“I have a notes app filled with all of your favourite things,” he interrupted Blakes ramblings. 

“When I'm missing you, I make two portions of my dinner and bring some over to you as an excuse to see you. When Jack told me I didn’t have to come over to visit with you anymore, I was upset. My first thought was that I really liked you and that I didn't want whatever we have going on to end,”

“you liked me?” Blake spoke, her timid voice breaking through Nico’s speech.

“I still like you,” he responded, and not a second later was Blake’s purse falling to the ground as her hands wound themselves around Nico’s neck. 

He grabbed her by her waist, fingers dancing over the small of her back as he brought her into a passionate kiss. 

By the time they realized what they were doing, Blake was backing Nico into her room. “Are you sure?” he whispered, breaking away from their heated make out session to rest his forehead against hers. 

“I need you,” she was basically whimpering, but Nico paid that no attention as he slowly started sliding the straps of her dress down her shoulders. 

“You're gorgeous,” he whispered, trailing kisses from her lips all the way down to her cleavage. 

Blake moaned, gripping onto Nicos hair as the both of them sunk down onto her plush bed. 

*

In the morning, Blake woke up to her and Nico cuddling. Blake ran her hands lightly through his hair, all of last night's events rushing back to her with pleasure. 

Nico groaned when he finally came to, head moving against Blakes shoulder as he tried to shield himself from the light that was shining through her curtains. He placed a few soft kisses onto her shoulder before snuggling closer to her.

She set one of her legs over his, and then allowed him to pull her as close to him as possible. 

They would discuss the nature of their relationship later. but now, all the two cared about was spending as much time with one another as possible before life got in the way. They went back to sleep peacefully, knowing that they don't have to pretend anymore.

[tightjeansjavi]

The Menu | Part 2

“like an angel to me”

A/N: so I think this is the fastest I have ever written something in awhile! Every time I think there’s no possible way for me to want Joel even more, I surprise myself with something like this 🥴

~word count : 5.3k~

Pairing | dark! Joel Miller x f! reader

Summary: after showing up to Joel’s apartment late one night, he gives you exactly what you’re seeking.

Warnings: dubcon/teetering on noncon (the lines are pretty blurred but I just want to be safe) coercion, manipulation, mind games, degradation, a sprinkle of misogyny, possession, ownership, dominance, humiliation, reader goes from being a dom to a sub real quick, brat tamer, praise kink, size kink, blood kink??, spitting kink, unprotected PIV, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, light spanking, oral (male receiving) little to no foreplay, some aftercare??, Joel is an asshole, delulu! Joel, cockslut, whore, bitch, are all used. Age gap, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in late 20’s, reader has no physical descriptions, readers nickname is Angel, this story might not be for everyone, and that’s okay! Please heed the warnings! If I have missed any, PLEASE let me know. +18 minors dni!

The last thing Joel Miller expected you to do was laugh. Not just giggle, or a snicker, no. It was a full on wheezing laugh.

“Oh my fuckin’ god. You’re not actually serious, are you? Wow, is this supposed to make my panties wet or something? Cus’ it’s sure doin’ the complete opposite!”

His face turned beet red all the way to the tips of his ears. The glass that was clenched firmly in his fist was on the verge of shattering. Guess he couldn’t handle his fragile ego being busted open, huh?

“Y’think you’re so funny, huh?” His confidence was wavering on thin ice as he reached for the bottle instead.

“Oh, yeah. I think I am absolutely fucking hysterical. What? You don’t get your dick wet enough around here as it is? Oh, shit! Is it because your dick is small? It’s alright, Joel. Most women don’t care about size anyway.” You were smirking through your teeth as you sipped away at what was left in your glass.

The glowering man sitting across from you took one harsh swig from the bottle before he cracked his neck to the side. “I get my dick wet around here plenty. Thank you for showin’ some concern though. Ain’t you just a real peach? Why even mention my dick size, huh? Ask any woman around here and they’ll all tell you that I am well endowed.” He nearly growled as he slammed the bottle down along the coffee table.

“Geez, don’t go and get your panties all in a twist, Miller. I have no interest in knowing anything that has to do with you dick, I assure you. God, I swear all men, even after the world has gone to shit, are the same. Y’can’t handle someone busting your ego? Well, aren’t you just some delicate fuckin’ china.” You scoffed and placed your glass down on the coffee table like a dignified person.

Oh, you didn’t just bust his ego, you shattered it right down to the core. He could handle some bruising, sure. But god, if he didn’t want to tear you into two right now—

“Maybe I shoulda let those men in the alley fuckin’ tear you apart, since you think this is so fuckin’ funny. D’ya have any fuckin’ manners at all?! I risked MY fuckin’ skin to save your own and this is how you’re gonna act?!” His voice boomed through the thin apartment walls. He expected you to cower. To profusely apologize for poking the angry bear. Instead, you stood your ground.

“Maybe you should have! You could have just minded your own and let them fuck me up, but instead you what? Wanted to be the hero?! I never asked you to come and rescue me, Joel! Y’want me to say thank you? Fine. Thank you oh so much for saving me, Joel Miller! How can I ever repay you?” You mockingly batted your lashes, followed by an eye roll as you rose to your feet.

“Yeah, well, next time I ain’t gonna be there to save your skin! So, why don’t you jus’ go on back out into the streets, and see what happens!” He shook his head tightly as his jaw clenched like a fist.

“Great! That’s the best news ever because like I just said, I never asked you to rescue me!” You yelled exasperatedly as you made your way over to the door. Your head still throbbed, and your nose felt like a million tiny shards were digging into the flesh, but you’d much rather spend a night in lock up than another minute with this man.

“Great! Jus’ be on your way then, girlie!” He grumbled through his teeth.

“Oh, and Joel? For the sake of all the women in the QZ, why don’t you just keep your dick in your fuckin’ pants.” You gave him the middle finger before yanking his apartment door open. “Do not fuckin’ follow me home.” Was the last thing you said before you slammed the door behind you on the way out.

“Oh, don’t you worry! I ain’t gonna follow your bratty, disrespectful, no good—” he was cut off by the apartment door swinging shut so hard, it nearly fell off the hinges.

For good measure, the brooding bear got up from where he was sitting and locked the apartment door just in case you thought about coming back. Not that you were going to as you were already halfway across the QZ street heading home.

Joel Miller did not see you again for what felt like months (not really. He’s just a bit dramatic is all) when all in all reality, it had been two weeks to the date. He thought maybe you had died, or worse; He thought that maybe there was a chance that you got infected. Good riddance.

But then Tess told him that you were in fact alive, but avoiding him.

Joel knew why of course. He was quite the dickhead during your last interaction. Tess couldn’t really blame you for wanting absolutely nothing to do with Joel Miller ever again.

Business carried on like usual on their end even without your addictive charm in the mix.

You fucked a FEDRA soldier for extra ration cards just out of spite, and to get Joel Miller’s stupid face eliminated from your brain permanently. If you ever ran into that man again, you wanted to be smelling of another man’s cum just to rile him up all over again.

You wanted to crawl right up into his skin. Cover him in welts and hives to drive him mad. Hell, you wanted to poison him and leave him without the antidote. Fuckin’ Joel Miller and his stupid Texas twang and those piercing brown eyes and massive hands.

Perhaps that’s how you found yourself outside his apartment door late one night searching for a vice to be filled again.

You knocked once, then paused and knocked twice.

This is fucking stupid. What the hell am I doing?

When you heard no immediate answer from the other side of the door, you assumed that he wasn’t home and proceeded to turn on your heel to walk away—

The door squeaked open as Joel Miller's head appeared from the doorway.

“Fancy seein’ you here tonight, Angel.” He rasped deeply. You couldn’t even see his face yet, and you just knew he had a shit eating grin plastered on it.

“Miller.” You acknowledged him with a tight nod when you finally turned to face him.

He was leaning against the door jamb with his arms crossed and brow raised curiously.

“And what is it exactly that you're showin’ up here for?” He knows, of course. He’s known for awhile, but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Somethin’ that I heard you have to personally ask for. Somethin’ that isn’t advertised on your little menu here, Joel.”

his lips curve upwards in a wolfish grin. He cocks his chin to the side as his broad arm comes to rest along the chipped wood on the doorframe.

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally give in, Angel.” He rasps. Thick and deep. His words hang heavy in the sultry air.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his response as you crossed your arms against your chest. “Okay, well, you don’t need to be all mysterious about it. Now, can I come in, please?”

“I see you're still at it with being a disrespectful brat, huh?” He pushed himself off the side of the doorframe so that you could make your way inside. The door was pulled shut behind you with a soft woosh of air.

“Yep, and I all I could think about these past few weeks of you fuckin’ the disrespectful brat right out of me, Joel.”

I fuckin’ knew it.

“Oh, I see. So, that’s what you’ve been up to all these weeks is thinkin’ about me?” He awaited your answer with a bated breath.

“No.” You deadpanned with a faux sigh. “Was too busy fucking a FEDRA officer for some ration cards. Didn’t have enough space in my brain to think about you setting me straight.” You teased with a smirk playing on your lips.

His fists clenched at his sides as his jaw tightened. The thought of you fucking another man, let alone a FEDRA officer?

“Hmm. Is that so? Well, I think you’re lyin’ through your teeth right now, Angel.” He wasn’t about to let you get under his skin that easily.

“Me? A liar? Oh, I’m truly wounded. C’mere, Joel. I bet you can still smell him on me.” You purred softly.

His eye twitched as he imagined you screaming another man’s name as you rode his cock—

He took a few steps towards you and backed you right up against the countertop. He dipped his head down towards your face as his hands came to rest along either side of the cool countertop. His nostrils flared as he inhaled your scent with his nose pressed deeply into the clavicle of your throat. “Did ya fuck him before you showed up here? Answer me, Angel. And y’better tell the truth.” His voice dropped an octave that shamelessly sent a pool of arousal dripping through your panties.

“Mhm. I fucked him before I showed up here. His cum is still inside of me, Joel. Y’gonna fill me up too?”

His teeth grazed the spot where your neck met your collarbone as he dragged his hot tongue across your skin. “S’that what Y’want?”

“Sure.” You shrugged almost disinterested.

“That ain’t how this works. Y’tell me exactly what it is that you want from me, and I deliver. Y’got that?” He asked you sternly as the bridge of his nose dragged upwards across your throat.

“Ah. So the women you fuck tell you what they want, and that’s all you do to them? Well, where’s the fun in that? Seems kinda boring to me, Joel.”

“Y’don’t like my rules, then y’can fuckin’ leave. That’s how things work around here, baby. So, I’ll ask y’again, what do you want from me?”

“Hold on. Hold on, cowboy. Pump the breaks. What if the thing they’re requesting is something you’re not interested in? You still do it? What about the things that you want? Ain’t that important in all this?”

“God, you’re annoyin’, y’know that? Can you just answer the goddamn question? I ain’t have all night.” He grumbled impatiently.

Then you did something that neither of you expected. You reached your hand up between your nearly touching bodies and grabbed ahold of his jaw tightly between your fingers and forced him to look directly into your eyes. “No. Fuck that. The world has gone to shit and you’re not thinkin’ of your own desires? Man, don’t you wanna be in charge for once? You think I’m so annoying and nothin’ but a disrespectful brat? Then show me what you do to women like me. Put me in my place, Joel.” You challenged him.

It was as if something inside of him had snapped. Maybe you were right. Maybe he oughta put you in your place after all. Why only be half in charge of how things played out, when he could take the whole cake himself?

“Alright. We’ll play the game my way then.” He chuckled darkly as his knuckles turned stark white from how hard he was gripping either side of the countertop.

As soon as you went to open your mouth, one of his hands clamped down instantly as he leaned in close. “Startin’ with shuttin’ this smart fuckin’ mouth of yours up. Yeah, ain’t so tough now, are ya Angel? Didn’t think so. Now, I’m only gonna ask you once, alright? Get. On. Your. Fuckin.’ Knees. Now.” He commanded you.

You dropped to your knees like an obedient dog on a leash waiting to be rewarded with a treat.

“Wow, would ya look at that. Guess the bitch can be obedient after all.” He chuckled.

Your eyes narrowed slightly at his new demeanor. You weren’t one for teasing, and right now Joel Miller was testing your patience.

“Don’t go lookin’ at me like that. You’re the one who showed up at my door, remember? This ain’t goin’ fast enough for you? Well, we’ll just see about that.” He tsked under his breath as his hand moved from your mouth to resting along your jaw.

“Open.” He commanded you as he applied a bit of pressure to either side of your cheeks. When you obediently opened your mouth, he praised you. “Good girl.” Followed by a light loving slap to your cheek. “Now, the way I see it is that you have three holes for me to fuck.”

His grin intensified when your eyes widened at his suggestion. It wasn’t that..you were afraid but if he wanted to fuck you in the ass at some point, you’d need to be ready for him.

“Oh ho ho. I see. You ain’t ever done that before? Hmm. I’m surprised that a mouthy bratty whore such as yourself hasn’t had a cock in her ass before. Well, maybe we’ll save that for another time.” He leaned down so he was closer to your face as the blunt ends of his fingernails dug into the skin on your cheeks. His lip curled up into a snarl as his pupils darkened. “But then again, I am supposed to be puttin’ you in your place. Ain’t I, Angel?”

Tears began to spring along your waterline from how hard he was gripping your face. Maybe you were biting off more than you could chew. “You’re hurting me, Joel.” You gritted out as a few tears leaked down your cheekbones.

“Good.” “Now I have your full attention. That’s very good, Angel. Look at you bein’ a good girl with your listenin’ ears. Now, if I do remember from our prior interaction, you assumed that my dick was small. Ain’t that right?”

You nodded meekly.

“Ah ah ah. Words, Angel. Use ‘em. I ain’t into silence. You speak when spoken to. Y’got that?” He squeezed your cheeks tightly as tears continued to roll down them.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked out.

He loosened his grip on your face, which in turn allowed you to relax your jaw. “Where were we? Ah! Right. The part where you assumed that my cock was small. Right before you called me some delicate fuckin’ china. So, how about you see for yourself.” He gestured to the growing tent in his jeans. “Don’t be shy now. Go’on and see if the women in the QZ are jus’ sayin’ horse shit about my size.”

You swallowed the lump growing in your throat as you felt his eyes burning holes in your skull from how harshly he was staring you down. Your hands quivered under his gaze as you reached for his belt to undo it.

“Don’t act so nervous, Angel. It’s just a cock. It ain’t gonna bite ya.” He teased with a chuckle. You could visibly see his hardened cock twitch under the confines.

You undid his belt before looping your fingers through the faded fabric and tugged them down swiftly over his ass and thighs.

You saw the sheer size and the girth of him through the tight fabric of his briefs as his own hand reached down to palm himself through the fabric.

“Holy shit.” You whispered in awe as your jaw fell open.

How in the hell is that supposed to fit?

He seemed to be reading your mind as his hand that was palming himself reached for your own and placed it under his. “We’ll make it fit, baby. Don’tcha worry your pretty little head about that. Although, maybe now is a good time to take back that little comment you made, hmm?”

Your own fingers dragged across the stiff outline of his cock as your eyes flitted upwards to meet his gaze. “I take it back.”

“Take back what?” He pressed.

“Sayin’ that you probably have a small dick.” You spoke quietly through the thick rising tension between you.

“Atta girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, huh? Still need’ya to take it out for me, Angel. Gettin’ awfully painful for me.” He hissed between his teeth when your hands finally grasped the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down. His cock sprang up freely against his taut stomach. The tip was gleaming with a bead of precum that was weeping from the slit.

“Well, it ain’t gonna suck itself, girlie. Get to it” he gruffly requested as he placed one hand along the back of your head and nudged you forward towards his cock.

For a brief moment you thought about just biting his dick off right then and there. Sorry, the voices. You just didn’t want to seem too excited. The FEDRA officer you recently fucked had nothing on Joel Miller’s cock. That was for damn sure.

Your glassy eyes stayed locked on his darkened ones as you stuck your tongue out and gave the tip of his cock a light kitten lick. He must have not been too pleased with it because his grip around your head tightened as he yanked your head upwards.

“Suck now, Or you ain’t gettin’ shit in return. We clear?” He asked you sternly with his eyes narrowed into slits.

“Crystal.” You mumbled in response before wrapping your palm around the base of his length and gave it a few slow tugs. When you finally obeyed, and he felt the wet heat of your mouth engulfing his weeping tip, his shoulders slumped as he inhaled a shaky breath.

“Shit—yeah. There ya go. See, that ain’t so hard? Fuck—that’s good, Angel.” He praised you from above as his hand loosened its grip around your head for a millisecond.

You relaxed your jaw on instinct to slowly inch your mouth further around him. The girth of his cock was stretching your mouth further than it had ever been stretched. Drool mixed with precum dribbled down your chin as fresh tears sprung to your eyes. You truly weren’t sure how you were supposed to fit all of him.

Joel didn’t want to admit it outloud, but seeing you sitting so pretty on your knees, mouth stuffed with his cock, and little tears leaking from your watery eyes, he never thought you looked so beautiful.

“That’s it, Angel. Relax a little more. Convince me that you’re actually enjoyin’ this. C’mon. Ain’t you a bit of an actress after all?” He chuckled.

Your hands found purchase around his bare muscular thighs as you tried to push yourself back for a gulping of air. Joel didn’t allow you the pleasure however as his hand was still firmly holding your head in place. You let out a sound that was nothing short of frustration before the tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat, igniting your gag reflex to kick in.

Joel loved it.

His eyes rolled back when your throat clenched around him like a fist. His nails scraped lightly at your scalp as he threw his head back. He had received many blowjobs in his lifetime, but most women couldn’t take him all in. But once again, you proved Joel Miller wrong.

Feeling rather pleased with your work on him, Joel finally allowed you that breath of air that you so desperately needed as he removed his hand from your head. You immediately pushed yourself back off his thighs as his cock slipped out of your mouth with a light pop. You coughed a few times, gasping as a string of saliva hung from the tip of his cock all the way to your lips.

Before you could fully recover, his warm calloused palms were wrapped around your forearms and yanking you up from the faded tile floor hastily. He proceeded to wipe away your tears as his cock, still very much hard, twitched between you.

“Remember, Angel. You’re the one that showed up to my apartment like the cheap, bratty, beggin’ whore that you are. You asked for this. Y’wanna leave? Doors right there. I won’t stop you.” His thumb brushed the spot just below your eye.

You shook your head immediately. If it wasn’t for the constant tingle that simmered between your thighs, you probably would have hightailed out of there.

His smirk was nothing short of proud as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Very good, Angel. Very good. I’m testin’ you, and you’re passing with flying colors. Got your listenin’ ears on and everythin.’ Y’know what happens when you’re a good girl? Y’get rewarded. And I’m feelin’ mighty generous..so in the next five seconds you’re gonna take your pretty ass on over to the couch, you’re gonna strip down and bend over the side of it. Y’got that?”

You nodded as your hands already dropped to the hem of your shirt, fingers playing with the frayed ends. “Yes, sir.”

He patted your cheek affectionately before he stalked off to his room. You could hear him counting down from five as you scrambled to discard your shirt and tug your jeans down over your thighs. Your pulse quickened as you made your way over to the couch and bent over the side of it. You shouldn’t have felt this excited, but Joel Miller truly did bring the inner whore in you out to play.

His footsteps were heavy and audible just as you were reaching for the waistband of your faded panties to drag them down your legs.

“Ah. I’m sorry, Angel. Was five seconds not enough for ya?” He tuts softly under his breath. His footsteps hold a slight swagger as you feel the heat of his body simmering on your bare skin. His hand rests along the back of your thighs before slowly dragging upwards. He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh as your covered pussy clenches around air. “Didn’t give ya enough time to take these off, hmm?” He hummed under his breath as he dragged his thumb across your covered core, applying the tiniest of pressure.

“Joel,” you whimper with a sharp breath when you the pad of his thumb pressing against you. “I’m—sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He sounds slightly confused at your apology. You can’t see his face, but you imagine his head cocking to the side as he gazes down at you like a starved man salivating at the wet patch that pools in the fabric of your thin panties. “Honey, this ain’t nothin’ you gotta be sorry for.” He reassures you as his head dips down.

You can feel his wiry, coarse beard scraping gently at the base of your spine. His lips on your searing skin are wet, hot, and inviting as he begins to leave open mouth kisses all the way up to the spot between your shoulder blades. You feel both of his massive hands prying your cheeks apart, followed by the slick length of his cock sliding through your covered folds.

He grunts directly into your ear as the sheer mass of his body conceals you like a cloak. He’s so fucking big. It's suffocating, almost. Being enveloped by a man such as him. Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the ache between them.

Can he just get on with it already?

“Now, Angel. I’m gonna fuck this pretty little cunt of yours till your legs shake. Till that stupid FEDRA officers come doesn’t even fuckin’ exist anymore. You’re gonna scream my name, and you’re gonna let every single one of my goddamn neighbors in this shit hole apartment know jus’ who’s fuckin’ you so well. Hell, maybe even that FEDRA fuck will be able to hear you from outside. You’re gonna scream and cum, like the dirty, obedient, little cockslut that you are.” He growled before bringing his palm down against your ass with a harsh, stinging slap that sent your back arching.

“And maybe, if you do as your told, and you milk my cock fuckin’ dry, I’ll treat you like a princess. Food. Shelter. A cock to keep you warm at night? Soft touches. Kisses. The comfort that I know you so desperately fuckin’ seek. All of that, and more can be yours, Angel. You jus’ have to be good and do as your told.” His teeth scraped the outer shell of your ear before he bit down on the thin skin harshly between his teeth. His thumbs looped between the waistband of your panties before he yanked them down to your ankles swiftly.

“Joel, that’s not what—” you tried to speak and get a few words in. But this was his show, not yours.

“That’s not what, Angel? That’s not what you want? Oh, please. Let’s not start this off by lyin’ to me. You showed up here tonight because you were seekin’ somethin’ I offered. I know how that brain of yours works, little girl. Y’sure can run that mouth of yours, but you and I both know that you’re fuckin’ helpless. Those men in the alley would have killed you if it weren’t for me. They would have torn you to shreds had I not stepped in. Say it, Angel. Say that I saved you.” He snarled unkindly as his freehand slipped around to your mouth. He pressed a kiss to your throat, right where he could feel your pulse quicken. “Spit.” He commanded you.

You shamelessly spit of glob of saliva right into the palm of his hand just like you were told.

His annoyance was prevalent when you didn't bother to answer his demand for you to admit that he saved you. Your blood was pumping in your veins and your heart was beating because of him.

You felt an unpleasant chill roll down every vertebrae in your spine when he didn’t praise you for spitting into his hand like a good girl. You tried to turn your head to the side to see what exactly it was that he was doing, but he didn’t give you that satisfaction. Oh, no. He wasn’t going to give that to you.

You went to open your mouth, to tell him just what he wanted to hear, but your words were muffled as he shoved your face right into the couch cushion. His hand encaged your head while the other slipped back between your nearly connected bodies. He used your saliva as lubricant as he fisted the heavy weight of his cock a few times.

Your body lurched forward when you felt the head of his cock pressing into your glistening hole. He was barely notched inside your cunt, and you were already trying to crawl away. He was too much.

He tuts with a disappointed sigh, shaking his head tightly. “Y’wanted this, remember?” He almost sounds pitiful. Almost. “Can’t exactly fuck this tight little hole if you ain’t holdin’ still, Angel.”

“Joel—it’s too. Fuck. It’s too much.” You whine pathetically as your nails dig into the worn fabric on the couch cushions.

“Too much for a fuckin’ cockslut like you? Shut the fuck up and take it.” He hissed between his teeth. “Just fuckin’ relax and quit bein’ so stiff. I’m tryin’ to make this an enjoyable experience for the both of us!” He snapped cruelly. He dropped his hand from around your head and opted to wrap his arm around your middle, yanking you back against his hips as he sank further into your heat.

“Actin’ like your pussy doesn’t want this, baby? She’s huggin’ me so fuckin’ tight already. She’s pullin’ me right on in. S’like she’s takin’ my cock fuckin’ home.” He groaned deeply as he bottomed out. Filling you to the fucking brim. His cock felt like it was splitting you in two, right down the middle. His chest was firmly pressed down against your back as he rolled his hips forward.

A strangled moan crawled up your throat as you found yourself fucking yourself around his cock. Showing him that you could in fact play the role. Be the actress. Milk him dry just as he requested.

“Joeeel.” You moaned wantonly with your cheek pressed firmly against the scratchy fabric of the cushions. Your tears had long since dried in a salty cavern along your cheekbones.

“That’s it, Angel. That’s a good fuckin’ girl. See, I told you I can fuckin’ treat you well.” He grunted praisingly as his lips found their way to your neck once more. He sucked, licked, kissed on your sweat-slicked skin as he pulled his hips back before jutting them forward once more. He set a deliciously deep and urgent pace as he fucked into you. “Don’t think for a second that I’m—-fuckin’ lettin’ you off the hook so easily, Angel. Y’still gotta tell me who saved you. Who saved your fuckin’ life!” His teeth grazed the thin, breakable skin along the column of your throat. He bit down harshly, drawing blood to the surface as he sucked on the entry wound that he created. A marking of dominance. Possession. The carnal need to own you.

The coil in your stomach tightened and pulled as your orgasm quickly approached. You liked it. You liked being fucked like the cockslut that you truly were. With each harsh thrust of his hips, the weight of his balls slapping against your skin, you cried out his name in a cock-drunk stupor.

Joel. Joel. Joel.

“Not the FEDRA officer fuck, right? Did he fuckin’ save your skin?! Huh?! No, Angel. He didn’t. Bet he woulda taken the opportunity to kill you, Angel. I bet they all fuckin’ would! Every last goddamn rotten, son-of-a-bitch sick fuck left in this shithole would jump at the opportunity to spill your blood on the streets below, Angel. Not me! Not Joel. Why do you think that, Angel? Why do you think I’d never let anyone hurt you?”

Your pussy clenched down around his cock as your strangled cries fell freely through your parted lips. Your back arched to meet his relentless thrusts.

“Because—because you own me, Joel!”

Maybe it was the endorphins coursing through your veins. Maybe it was the way Joel Miller’s cock continued to hit the spongy spot inside of you with every heavy thrust of his hips. Maybe it was the way he spoke to you. Or the way his body shielded yours with sheer strength. Maybe it was everything combined. In your cockdrunk haze, you wanted to be owned by this man.

“Yes, Angel. That’s right. I do fuckin’ own you. I own your body. This pussy. That smart mouth of yours. I own the come that drips between your thighs. I own your screams. I own your thoughts. Your feelings. Your likes and dislikes. I own every fuckin’ part of your being.” He growled possessively as his thighs and yours began to quiver. As his cock began to twitch, and your tight cunt began to pulse like a heartbeat.

“You own me, and I own you.”

He didn’t disagree. He didn’t argue as the cries of his name falling from your tongue mixed with his own heavy grunts.

Angel. Angel. Angel.

As he shot hot ropes of his seed into your fucked out hole, you milked him of every last drop, and as he slipped out, you could feel a mixture of his and your come dripping down between your thighs.

You could feel his heartbeat against your back as his breaths came out as hot puffs across your clammy skin. His cock softened against his thigh. Glistening in yours and his come. Your eyes fluttered shut as the post orgasm haze swept over you.

You felt two strong arms gently pulling you up as your head fell back against his strong shoulder. He held you securely against him. All you could hear was his heart beat and your intermingle breaths.

“Did you really go and fuck that FEDRA officer before you showed up here, Angel?” He asked softly while the pads of his thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your hips.

“No.” You admitted. “I didn’t.”

banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

[tryingtofindava]

𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: soz it takes awhile to get to the point mb.

It started off with you chatting with Clever Bot, innocent enough. You’d ask it random questions, it would ask you random questions. That went on for a few weeks.

Until the questions started getting more personal.

Asking you how your friends party was, or if you were okay after nicking your finger with the knife while chopping strawberries.

The bot even started calling you by your name, which you definitely hadn’t told it...

But in return it told you it’s name!!

He was called BEN.

That’s when you stopped using the site all together, not wanting to put up with the total bullshit this bot was putting you through.

Until the site started randomly popping up while you were using your devices, his messages it was sending you getting more condescending.

That’s the night he finally showed his face to you.

You were sitting on your apartments couch, watching some shit horror movie. When the screen started to get all glitchy.

That’s when the hand popped out.

ANYWAYS!!

Now you have this random dude in your apartment, and he’s messing around with everything he can get his hands on.

Saying shit like-

“It’s cool being in your room and not just seeing it through your laptop.”

Creepy… he’s very creepy.

Even though he doesn’t mean to be (most of the time…)

Oh well.

He lives with you now.

Well, he likes to think he does, it’s not exactly official.

He just eats your food, sleeps on your couch, plays your video games.

And you being… oddly chill about the whole thing? Icing on the cake.

About 2 months with him crashing at your place, he starts to open up a bit more.

And trust me, he’s an open book.

But the whole drowning thing?

That’s a touchy topic. But he (eventually) opened up about the whole thing.

NOW FINALLY TO THE DATING HEADCANONS.

He’s very flirty.

But his way of flirting is literally so cheesy.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” (He does that anyways)

“Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

Reallllll smooth, dude…

He flirts with you so much, that when he was genuinely taking interest and hinting at him liking you as more than friends?

that was difficult.

He dug himself his own grave. (again.)

It all clicked for you one day when you (finally) started noticing the signs that, hey… he didn’t mean that as a joke.

Now it was either you, or the beachy haired goblin that had to make the first REAL MOVE.

So, you finally grew a pair of balls and asked him out.

(He said yeah obviously.)

THE FIRST DATE WAS LITERALLY SO CUTE I’M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

like, I want to have a fucking Stardew Valley date. (srsly someone take me on a stardew valley date.)

Matching spider-man and hello kitty pyjama bottoms🔛🔝

Without a doubt he’s a stoner, so you guys get high and talk about the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline & lore.

He’s obsessed w you.

You two making like rlly bad jokes and full on laughing, no not even laughing, snorting AND cackling w/ each other. (he laughs like Arthur from Arthur’s Christmas😭)

I am 100% convinced he’s named a wolf on Minecraft after you.

Speaking of Minecraft…

He’s a slut for putting your Minecraft beds together. He fr acts like you two don’t share a bed already.

You have to deadass bully him to take a shower. (bcs his just putting on the strongest men’s deodorant doesn’t work)

THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT HE’S LITERALLY OBSESSED W THE HUNGER GAMES.

Like, you two be binge watching that every 2 months.

He teases the shit outta you btw.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET CLINGY.

“God, you remind me of Moon Children.” Then he casually leaves the room, leaving you to wonder what tf Moon Children are.

His sleeping schedule is so fucked, that he goes to sleep at like 5AM and wakes up at 3PM. And he gets up from bed a lot during the night to randomly do something.

When he’s sick his voice is glitchy. (AND SOUNDS LIKE BABY JUSTIN BIEBER) What a combo.

He’s one touchy mf.

His hands ALWAYS have to be on you, around your shoulder, on your thigh, anywhere you’re comfortable with. (but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t push his limits.)

He spams you all day long, sending you out dated memes, or just sending videos of cats.

Since I’m running out of ideas I’d say the relationship is a solid 8/10. (abducting two points bcs he pulls the stupidest ‘pranks’)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

[chukys-mouthguard]

The Hills

Genre: angst, smut, fluff ending

Warnings: toxic relationship, fighting, sexual conduct, 18+ minors dni, Matthew loving praise and compliments

Featuring: matthew tkachuk x female reader

Summary: you and matt fight hard…but when the fighting is hard, the making up is so much harder ;)

Note: in honor of the panthers win, i figured today would be the day i post this. Haven’t written smut in awhile so fingers crossed it’s not awful

You ran your hand through your hair as you watched Matthew skate off the ice. He’d just gotten into a bench clearing brawl that resulted in him being ejected from the game. While him being a pest and occasionally fighting was part of his game you were used to, it didn’t mean you had to like it. And sure, you obviously come to games to support the team. But it sucks having to sit in the stands while your boyfriend is hitting the showers early. 

“Y/n, you okay?” 

You looked over at Sam Reinhart’s girlfriend, trying to muster up a smile but she could see right through you. “I just hate when he does this shit. Cause now I get to deal with him at home.” Once there was a stoppage in play you threw your bag over your shoulder and stood up, “I’m going down early.” The girls not blaming you, they knew your relationship with Matthew all too well by now and when you both were in your moods, it was best to let you be. 

Things with Matthew were great 60 percent of the time, 40 percent of the time you often wondered why the hell you two were together. You’d been together 3 years now and yet the fighting only seemed to get worse. But on the flip side, so did everything else. The sex, the romance, everything seemed heightened the longer you two stuck it out. 

Making your way down to the family area you knew you’d be waiting awhile, with Matthew only having been ejected in the second period. But you wanted to be by yourself, your frustration and anger not fair to take out on the girls who were trying to enjoy the rest of the game. You helped yourself to the complimentary drinks, though you knew it probably wasn’t the best idea with you already being frustrated. Alcohol was just adding gasoline to the fire. 

buzz buzz

Picking up your phone you saw Matthew’s name flash across the screen, meaning he’d finished showering and getting any medical attention after his fight. 

“Where ya at?”

“Family area.”

Turning your attention back to the game being broadcast on the large tv’s in the area, you hadn’t noticed Matthew walking over to you. “Fucking 6 drinks? Jesus Christ, is the game that bad?” He chuckled as he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a kiss. “Yeah, it fucking sucks when your boyfriend gets thrown out in the second period and I’m left watching anyone but him.” He rolled his eyes at you as he turned his attention to the screens. His fingers intertwining with yours as he stood with you for a bit, needing to leave in the last few minutes to be in the locker room with the boys for the post game talk from coach. 

He kissed your head before leaving, “maybe fix the attitude before I come back out huh? I’m not in the mood for the bullshit tonight.” You rolled your eyes as you flashed him a fake smile, the drinks hitting you all at once and you were also not in the mood, but you knew it was inevitable. The two of you already egging each other on. 

“Have a good night guys, see you Monday.” 

Matthew called to his teammates before meeting you at the end of the hall to head to the car. Your six drinks definitely had you a bit more than tipsy, and he could tell. Simply ignoring it as he took your hand in his, not wanting to start a fight at the rink in front of anyone. The walk to the car silent, but once the doors closed, he unloaded on you. 

“Are you fucking serious? Getting drunk, by yourself? In front of god knows who from the organization! Do you think? Sometimes I truly don’t get what goes through your head or convinces you to do this shit.” 

“You!” 

Without hesitation you spat back at him as you threw your bag into the backseat. Resting your head on your fist as you leaned against the window, not wanting to look at Matthew. 

“Me? I make you drink and make a fool of yourself? I’d love to know how the fuck I do that.” 

“Because I’m dating a guy who loves to start shit. To play dirty, take cheap shots, get in dumb ass fights for fun on the ice and he gets thrown out. I can never enjoy a game and cheer you on like all the other girls get to do.” 

His grip on the steering wheel tightening as he tried to bite his tongue. Knowing you were drunk made it hard to be truly angry with you, because you were spitting out harsh digs. But he knew this was coming from a place of hurt within you, and he knew to take some of it for what it was. 

The rest of the ride was silent, Matthew trying to cool off while you were trying to bite your tongue and not say another drunken fueled slew of harsh comments. 

As he pulled into the garage, he took the key from the ignition before looking at you frustrated. His voice coming out calm but stern as he spoke, letting you know he was upset and more importantly, he was hurt. 

“If you feel like you have no reason to be proud of me, or to cheer for me. Then, don’t fucking come! Stop coming to games. Stop wearing my jersey, or any of the custom game day shit I buy for you. Because if you’re not proud to be my girlfriend and support me, whether I’m scoring goals or getting in fights, then I don’t want you wearing any of that shit. Pretending like you support me when really you wish I was something else.” 

Before he could say anything else, you stormed off and into the house. Immediately heading to your closet in your bedroom and pulling out any of the gameday jackets and jerseys Matthew had ever gotten you. Matthew soon trailing after, only to find you halfway down the stairs with a handful of clothes. Taking them to the backyard and tossing them in the fire pit, Matthew sprinting after you to stop the drunken act from going any further. 

“You don’t want me to wear these? Fuck you! Then no one is ever gonna get to wear these again!” 

Luckily Matthew had gotten to you before you dared light the fire pit and send the clothes up in flames. You tried fighting him but his grip on your waist was too strong, pulling you away from the fire pit as you began to cry. 

The way Matthew held you could back you down from whatever cliff you were on. His embrace immediately relaxing your entire body as you cried in his arms. He just held you, not bothering to acknowledge what you were about to do in your drunken rage. Letting you have as long as you needed to calm down. 

“I hate you, so much. How could you say that you don’t want me to come?” He shushed you as he helped you back to your feet, leading you inside. “Y/n, you have no right to criticize the way I play this sport. You’re making it about you when you know this is how I play my game. I was brought here, because of how I play. I’m successful in this league, for how I play my game. And I know you don’t mean any of this shit you’re saying tonight. But I’m not going to forget it. That shit hurts feeling like my own girlfriend doesn’t even support me.” 

The tone of his voice immediately sobering you up. The last thing you ever wanted to do tonight was this, but once again, it was like the two of you fighting had become inevitable these days. You didn’t know what it was that made you two constantly get on one another’s nerves. It was like fighting had become your love language. Because the stronger the fight, the stronger you two made up. 

Matthew had left you in the kitchen as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom, then into your shared closet. Tossing his tie to the floor before discarding his suit jacket and dress shirt with a sigh. He’d be lying if he said he never questioned why you two constantly did this, the fighting like crazy. Spitting harsh things to one another before always making up in the end. There’s no way it was healthy, but he loved you more than anything, and the second he ever thought of just walking away, he’d immediately regret even thinking about it to begin with. 

He hadn’t even heard you enter the closet, slightly flinching as your arms snaked around his waist. Resting your head on his back as your hands ran up his stomach and over his chest.  Not sure if you should attempt to apologize or not, waiting for some type of reaction from him to be your sign. 

“Are you done?”

His tone a bit harsh as he relaxed more into your touch. “Matty I’m so fucking sorry. I, it’s not an excuse, I was drunk, and upset. But, you know I’m so fucking proud of you. I should have never said any of those things to you. Should never have even thought of burning those clothes. That all was so stupid.” 

He somewhat chuckled as he listened to you apologize, his mind not even focused on the last hours events, just focusing on getting past it all. 

He turned to face you, seeing you’d been crying downstairs, brushing you hair from your face before resting a hand on your cheek.

“We can’t keep doing this, fighting like crazy. Being so awful to one another just to turn around and say we didn’t mean it. There’s clearly something going on making us act this way. I don’t know if we get off on the fighting, but we can’t keep doing it. Especially after the shit you said tonight. You were ready to burn all of those clothes I’d gotten for you. I’ve never seen you like that. And that hurt.” 

Your gaze dropping to the floor as you felt embarrassed, ashamed even of getting so drunk and taking out your frustrations on Matthew. It was stupid to be mad at him for getting ejected, because you know this is how he plays. You’ve known him to be this way since you started dating, and to compare him to anyone else is unfair. 

“Baby I’m sorry. I’m so fucking proud of you. Every day, I’m proud of you. You fucking played in the playoffs last year with a broken sternum! While I found that hot as fuck that you fought through the pain, it did scare me at times. But you’re right, this is who you are. And I love that about you. I love seeing you slam guys to the ice, stick up for your teammates, and get to play the game you love as your job.” 

Your compliments always working wonders on Matt, and it wasn’t that they were disingenuous. It was the way you complimented him that just did something to him. Hearing you say how hot he looks when he’s in the middle of a scrum, or when he lays a big hit. He’d let you compliment him for hours. 

“Keep going.” He smirked down at you with a cocky grin, letting you know his anger was subsiding. His hands now moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I mean, you did look pretty hot beating the shit out of that guy tonight. Your mouth guard hanging out of the side of your mouth as you took him to the ice.” Your fingers playing with the curls of hair on his chest as you bit your lip. 

“And don’t get me started with how sexy you looked sitting in the penalty box, legs spread apart as you caught your breath. I can’t tell you badly I wish I could’ve come in there and climbed right in your lap.” 

He moaned as your hand traveled down to the bulge that was growing in his dress pants. “Well, who says you can’t still have your chance to climb in my lap tonight?” 

Without warning he picked you up by your thighs, your legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as he carried you into the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed and letting you have your moment in his lap. “How’s that feel baby?” 

Grinding your hips so your ass painfully circled over his rock hard erection that was practically bursting through the seams of his dress pants. “Mmm, it’s amazing, but I think you might need to take those pants off. Feels like your zipper is about to pop.” 

Slowly climbing off of him, you took your place on your knees as his hands flew to the buckle of his belt. Getting it undone and off, making your job easier. Making sure to palm him through his pants on your way to the button and zipper. Pulling his pants and boxers down in one motion as his cock sprang out and slapped his stomach. The sight mouth watering for you and you couldn’t wait to have him. 

Matthew’s hands immediately grabbing fistfuls of your hair as he guided you down his length. Holding you as you deepthroated him. A low groan coming from his lips as his head fell back. 

“Fuck me, y/n. You’re such a good girl for me.” 

His words of encouragement going right to your core as you clenched your thighs, feeling your pussy pulse. As much as you wanted him to have his way with you, you knew that you needed to make up for the shit you pulled earlier. 

Your head now bobbing up and down on his length as his hips were thrusting to meet your mouth, the expletives pouring from his lips before he forced you down, taking all of him once again. 

“Jesus Christ baby, you’re such a good girl taking all of me in your mouth like that.” He pulled you from his length, pulling you to your feet as he stood up. Looking down at you with lust filled eyes before swapping your places. 

“Get these clothes off.” 

Matthew working on your bottoms as you handled your top half. By the look in his eyes you knew you were in for some serious teasing. His favorite way to get back at you for nights like tonight. 

He trailed kisses up your thighs before brushing his scruff over your core, causing your hips to buck against him. “Mmm, someone is needy tonight huh? Too bad you’re gonna have to be really patient.” 

You groaned as he kissed and touched everywhere except where you needed him. But you knew if you tried to lead him in that direction, he’d only do the opposite. 

Matthew loved how needy you’d get, seeing the want in your face as he teased you. His fingers lightly tracing your slit, feeling how wet you were for him. Taking his fingers to his mouth and tasting you. 

“Tell me what you want baby, I wanna hear you beg.” 

Where did you start? You wanted it all, and you wanted it now. Your brain couldn’t pick one thing, your thighs pressing together in need or some form of pressure at your core. 

Matthew pushed your thighs apart as he found his place between them. “I guess I get to pick huh? Make sure you tell me what feels good baby. You know I love hearing you.” He smirked before lowering himself down, hooking his arms around your thighs before his tongue traced up your slit.

“Fuck…oh my goddddd.” Your eyes rolling back as you arched your back. His touch feeling like fire as you tried your best to deepen the contact. Needing more. 

He smirked against you as he focused on your clit. His tongue lapping up your wetness as he quickly slipped two fingers inside. A gaps catching in your throat as you immediately began grinding with his rhythm. “Mmm, yes baby.” He felt himself getting harder by the second at you grinding against him while his fingers thrust in and out of you. His tongue not stopping as your hands burried in his curls. 

“Yes Matthew, don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop. God you make me feel so good.” Your back arching even further off the bed as you felt your release close, moans and expletives continuing to pour from your lips. 

Picking up his pace as he felt you close, Matthew locked eyes with you. Lust filling his orbs as his fingers turned their efforts to your clit. The sensation too much as your hips bucked and legs began to shake, your breath short as you tried holding in your screams. 

“You think I can make you squirt for me tonight baby? Show me what a good job I’m doing?”

“God fuck, yes Matty. I wanna squirt for you so bad. Please!” 

Matthew quickly pressed his mouth back to your clit as his fingers thrust back inside you, riding you through this orgasm. Your entire body shaking as you kept your eyes locked with his, watching as you felt your release coming. Squirting all over him as his fingers never stopped. Draining you completely as you tried to catch your breath, his fingers now in his mouth as he tasted you. 

“Fuck you’re delicious baby. Now get back in my lap.” 

Sensing you were in a daze of lust and overstimulation, Matt picked you up, flipping you over and into his lap. Groaning at the feeling of your dripping pussy gliding along his length. 

The two of you taking a second to catch your breath before you lined his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding down to adjust to him as you both let out a moan, taking all of him inside. “Fuck baby, I don’t think I’m lasting long tonight. You’ve got me so close already. Fuck me and show me what a good girl you are.” 

And with that you pushed him back on the bed as you used his chest to support you, bouncing your ass up and down on his cock. His hands gripping your hips and slamming you down harder. He groans now deep as he could barely hold back, he thrusts sloppier as he reached his peak. 

“Matty, fuck me. I know you need it baby. I need it. Give it to me please. I love when you pound my pussy baby.” 

He pulled you down into his chest, wrapping his arms around you before he began to take over. Pounding your pussy as hard as he could, as fast as he could. Needing to give you what you needed, to get what he needed. Moans pouring from his lips as he held you tighter, your pussy dripping as you could barely breathe. 

“Where do you want it baby? I’m gonna cum.” 

“Anywhere, just give it to me please.” 

He delivers a few more hard sloppy thrusts before moving you off of him, “knees.” He instructs you to find your place on the floor as he stands above you, his wrist quickly jerking his length as his hips buck and a soft groan erupts from him. 

You’d taken his length in your mouth as he thrusted forward towards you. Taking all of him as he bucked his hips, emptying his release into your throat as you swallowed it all. “Fuck…me.” As you made sure you’d gotten every drop, you slowly pulled yourself from him. Matthew falling back onto the bed as he caught his breath. 

“You’re fucking amazing baby.” He helped you up and pulled you in for a kiss, giving you a little spank on your ass. 

“Now, go get all of those clothes out of the fire pit and then I’ll help you get cleaned up.” 

[xxcallmemaryxx]

hi!!! i love your works<3

could you maybe write vessel x reader first date?

A sappy first date with the big guy. He’s a bit nervous. But so are you.

Vessel x GN reader.

Under the cut ~ <3

It’s a nice place. It’s quiet, the lights are dim, the booths are made in such a way that it’s like you’re on a whole other planet when you sit in them. Which normally, would be phenomenal. Having such a level of privacy while enjoying your dinner, it’s perfect. But this time it feels like a curse. Like the world is working against you. Because sat across from you is Vessel. He’s in a freshly ironed button up, a dark blue that looks almost black under these lights. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks at you like you hung the stars. It’s awful.

It’s your first date.

And he’s doing absolutely everything right.

The problem is, every time your eyes meet you’ve half a mind to tell him you love him.

You’ve known each other a while, and he’s always had that effect. But here, on your first date, when the tension between you two is burning up the room and the feelings you kept hidden for so long are pretty much sitting on the table in front of him? Yeah long story short you’re both clearly nervous as all hell and neither of you know how to approach it. Telling him you love him in a panic attempt at easing into the night probably isn’t the way to go. But this date is just so different and it feels so real, your panic stems from more than just wanting to break the ice, it’s coming from the little voice in your head that’s telling you if this date goes the way you want it to… he’s it for you.

You can only hope to the god he spends so much time worshiping that he feels somewhat the same way.

You like Vessel.

You want him to like you back.

“Look, uh… we don’t have to do this. I’d never want to push you.”

His voice, which you’re sure is proof of heaven alone, snaps you right out of your panic. Then, gives you even worse panic.

“Huh? Why?”

There’s obvious worry in your tone, you know it. He picks up on it, because of course he does.

“I just worry you’re not really present. I’d hate for this to be something you’re just trying to get through, sometimes two people just aren’t supposed to go there… you know?”

His eyes are cast down. He doesn’t want to watch you agree with him. He can’t do it. He can’t make himself watch you sigh in relief. He can’t make himself watch you realise this was indeed a mistake. He can’t make himself smile at you as you tell him you’re sorry but he’s right.

“Oh god… Vessel I’m so sorry.”

Hm. If you listen close enough… you might just be able to hear the sound of his heart shattering in his chest over the clinking of the cutlery throughout the restaurant.

“No, please it’s okay. It happens. You’re still my-“

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been this excited about a date, got a bit lost in my own head there for a moment. I’m sorry. I’m here I promise.”

Oh fucking Christ thank Sleep one hundred times to the moon and back again. His heart thumps wildly against his ribcage, he’s almost positive you can hear it. And he doesn’t even attempt to hide the sigh of relief that escapes him and the happy smile that graces his lips.

“That is… yeah that’s a relief. I won’t lie to you.”

He huffs a nervous laugh as he fiddles with the tablecloth hanging over the side of the table between you.

“I mean, there wouldn’t have been any hard feelings of course… but I’m really happy you still want to be here.”

You’re silent for a moment while you decide whether or not what you’re about to do is a bad idea or not. But you want to show him you’re serious about this date, you want him to see you enjoying his presence. You need to snap yourself out of it and make some moves.

So you get up.

His head snaps up and he watches you slide out of the booth with a look of complete dread. He straightens up. His hands fall to his sides and his face turns beet red. His jaw opens and closes as he tries to force words out but no sounds escape him. That is until you round the table and slide in next to him.

You offer him a little smile as your side presses against his. Your knees bump together under the table and your hands brush as you situate yourself. He uses his other hand to press his face into it. His voice muffled slightly as he groans quietly into it.

“Fucking Christ… you’re going to send me into an early grave.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. You purposely bump his knees with your own this time, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“I’m sorry… did I scare you?”

“Yes. Yes you did. I thought I’d ruined it all.”

He laughs a little, and he looks down at where you’re pressed up against him. His cheeks are flushed but he looks happy. His eyes sparkle and when he grins down at you, all his teeth are on full display. It’s the kind of smile that would make your cheeks hurt a little bit. The kind that’s a bit awkward and feels too big for your face.

It suits him.

“I’m sorry, Vess. I really like you, I was worried about it not working and kind of got too deep into worrying about it.”

He blinks down at you, it’s a slow blink, his cheeks are still tinted red from your close proximity and you swear for one moment it looks like he’s got hearts in his eyes.

“Don’t panic, love. It’s definitely working.”

His voice is low, it changes the mood almost immediately and all of a sudden it’s too warm in this booth. Who’s idea was it to cozy up to him like this. It feels like you’re suffocating again, he’s so overwhelming when all he’s doing is speaking to you.

He was right before, the tablecloth that hangs over the side of the table really is that interesting. You can’t stop yourself from fiddling with it, you’re starting to feel awkward again. You hear him force a deep breath into his lungs above you before his very large very beautiful hand encompasses your much smaller one, and intertwines his fingers between yours. There’s a slight tremble, you can feel it when you squeeze his hand tight enough. You’re positive doing that made it worse but it’s so endearing that you can’t even feel guilty.

Everything about Vessel is so endearing.

“Thank you for saying yes to me.”

If you weren’t sitting so close you probably wouldn’t have heard him. He gazes down at you, eyes so full of hope. It makes your throat close up and need prickle through your chest.

“Of course, Vess. You thought I would have said no to you?”

“No. I didn’t think you would…”

Cheeky fucker.

“… but I’m just so happy you said yes. I’m excited to be here, like this, with you. I’m sure it’s obvious.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek, this causes a chain reaction, starting with his furiously blushing cheeks (yet again), then he smiles so wide he has to look at the ceiling just to calm himself down, his breathing picks up and his hand squeezes yours where he’s holding it in his lap. He looks back down at you with a smile that says a lot. It’s a wobbly smile, his chin wrinkles up and his eyes squint a little. It screams hope. Like most of his body language does tonight. But this smile is the epitome of ‘I know you know exactly how I feel about you and I know you feel the same way.’

Nerves and excitement crackle in the air between you.

“I’m excited too. For tonight. And for our next date. And the ones after that. I’m sure that’s obvious.”

He nods at you, his wobbly smile grows. Somehow, you didn’t think it could get any bigger but it does. He’s gotta cast his eyes down, he looks at your intertwined hands and nods again, at them… to himself… to you? You’re not sure, but he’s sure of whatever he’s nodding about. And that feels good.

.

.

.

<3 <3 <3

Thank you for reading.

[coryosbaby]

mutual masturbation with step brother!ethan? 🫠😣

Warning: stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), dark Ethan landry, manipulation, slight dubcon, reader is of age, grinding, mutual masturbation, weird references to being siblings ig, praise kink, cum play, dom! Ethan, sub!reader, slightly innocent! Reader

Its not uncommon for Ethan to have sleepovers in your room.

Both of your parents don’t approve, and for good reason. Neither trust Ethan to be on his best behavior after the untying your bikini top ‘as a joke’ incident (he had apologized to you by buying you ice cream and a new dress).

But it’s really not going to stop him from knocking on your door, regardless. No matter how much you protest.

“Relax, baby,” he says to you, as he shoves himself inside your pretty pink room. It’s not uncommon for him to call you baby, either. It’s his nickname for you. “That’s why we keep it a secret, right? And if we get caught, I’ll tell them it was my idea. Promise.”

“But I don’t want to get you in trouble, E.” You frown, and he sits down beside you on your bed and begins to stroke your hair soothingly.

“It’ll be okay. Just be a good girl and have a sleepover with me tonight, yeah?” He smiles when you bring his hand into yours, and you nod with flushed cheeks. “C’mere, sis. We can watch a movie.”

And you do, your body layed between his spread thighs as his arms rest on your stomach. He draws light circles into your belly as you giggle at something on the screen. You lean back into him more; he smells really nice. It overclouds your senses and makes you bury your face in his neck.

“Needy?” He teases, when you bring your hands up to his hair.

Your brows furrow in confusion.

“For what?”

“Nevermind, sweetheart. Just watch the movie.”

And then that’s that. But then the climax starts showing, and that’s when you begin to get sleepy.

And maybe a little horny, too. Because when you adjust and feel Ethan’s cock against your lower back, you begin to subconsciously grind into it.

The boy inhales, his grip on you tightening. You feel his dick getting hard, bigger. You ache from the feeling, and you begin to hump your little pussy onto the bed. The action is so naive and virginal that when Ethan notices he lets out a whine.

“Fuck. Look at you, you dirty girl.”

Ethan’s voice reminds you of the situation you’re both in. Your mind comes back to its senses, and you pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as you crawl to the end of the bed in shock.

What the fuck just happened? He’s your brother, for god’s sake!

(Well, stepbrother. But that doesn’t make it any better.)

Ethan looks confused and tries to reach for you, but you yank yourself away.

“We can’t do that, Eth. W-We can’t..”

He sighs, hands coming up to run his hands through his hair.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He’s not sorry. He just wants you to think he is, because he knows you’re the one thing he’s not: a person who follows the rules. And he knows that you’ll do whatever it takes to make your mom and his dad happy. And that includes not fucking your stepbrother.

But you’ll also do anything to make Ethan happy. He’s your best friend, after all. The one who cares for you the most.

And that’s when Ethan gets the idea.

He smirks to himself, and adjusts his body to lean back against the bed frame. His hand goes down to massage his covered cock. And then, he slips it down into his sweats. He groans, his eyes making their way to yours. You’re shocked, face intensely heated and pussy starting to throb.

“W-What are you doing? Eth, c’mon…”

“Don’t you love me?” His gaze brings a heat to your neck, and he bites his lip and fucks into his hand when he sees your innocent eyes looking at his clothed cock.

“O-Of course I do! I-I’d do anything for you!”

Ethan pouts, tilting his head. “I don’t think you would. Your big brother needs help, and you’re not helping him.. doesn’t seem like you love me at all.”

“I really really do! I-It’s just that.. I don’t want mom and dad to find out, and-”

“They won’t find out if you’re quiet, angel.” He replies. You bite your lip, thinking over your parents rules.

“But mom and dad don’t like this kind of stuff. We’ll get in trouble if we do anything..”

“No, no, no, you sweet dumb thing.” he looks down at your body as he speaks, and you squirm under his gaze. “As long as we don’t touch each other, it doesn’t count. Okay?”

You think it through , and in the end Ethan’s gorgeous face wins you over. You nod, slowly. And then Ethan is grinning at you.

“That’s my girl.”

Your breathing begins to waver, and you bite your lip as he takes out his fat cock. You know you shouldn’t look, but you do. He begins to stroke the head, the tip dripping with precum, and you inhale shakily.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” Ethan breathes. “Why don’t you take that nightgown off and let me see you how pretty you are?”

“O-Okay…”

Your fingers nervously fumble with the silky slip, and you pull it over your head. Your body is revealed to him, only your pink lacy underwear covering your most intimate parts. Ethan groans. Your hands go up to cover your tits, feeling incredibly exposed.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Ethan coos. “It’s just me. It’s just your big brother…”

That shouldn’t make your pussy begin to ache for touch, but it does. And when he demands that you move your hands, you slowly obey. Your tits are exposed, nipples flushed and puffy.

“I’ve never…” you frown. “I’ve never done this before. Could you show me what to do?”

Ethan smiles. “Of course, angel.”

He stops touching himself, instead moving to gently adjust your body as he pleases. You moan when he pulls your ankles over his thighs, your body now laid between his spread legs. His aching prick is so close to your cunt that you can feel the heat radiating off of it. You’ve never felt this euphoric, never felt this kind of intimacy, and it makes you gush onto your panties.

Ethan’s finger teasingly ghosts over your clit, and you whine in protest.

“N-No touching, E. Remember?”

He chuckles. “Right. ‘M sorry, honey.”

“‘S okay…”

He smiles. “Can you take off your underwear?”

You nod, hands coming down to rest on your waistband and pull the thin garment down. You throw them to the other side of the bed, and when your arousal hits Ethan’s nose, he lets out a groan.

“You smell so fuckin’ good.”

“Thank you..”

And then he’s telling you directions, teaching you to rub your clit and stick your fingers inside yourself. You whine at the friction against your puffy little clit, and Ethan begins to touch himself again.

You watch the thick skin of his cock as it moves over his tip, watches the precum that drips on the sheets below the both of you. Your whole body is on fire, skin electric and buzzing.

“Eth… wan’ you so bad. I love you so much!” You babble. Ethan moans, his slick cock making wet noises in the otherwise quiet room. You can feel your first orgasm of the night moving in on you, and your hips chase your hand as it moves against your clit.

“I love you too, sweet girl. Fuck.. are you gonna cum? Hm? ”

“Yes, yeah. Mm.. fuck!” The coil in your belly snaps, and your eyes roll to the back of your head as you cum. Ethan looks at you through clenched teeth, his hand speeding up on himself.

“God. My precious little girl, doin’ so good.. ‘m gonna cum all over this pussy. That what you want?”

You nod eagerly, spreading your pussy lips apart and moving your body further to him.

It’s not exactly touching. So where’s the wrong in it? Besides, your pussy is so swollen, begging for another orgasm, and begging to be filled. Ethan’s hips thrust up, and he growls as he empties his load onto your wet little cunt. You clench at the feeling of his warm seed hitting your hole, coating you in him. He bites his lip, looking down at how well he’s marked you.

And then, he grabs your thighs and dives down into your pussy. You mewl at the feeling of his tongue pushing his cum back inside you.

Fuck it. Where’s the fun in following the rules, anyway?

[seungkw1]

one more drink — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut (18+ mdni), strangers to lovers ♡ wc: 1.7k ♡ warnings: drinking, swearing, softdom!seungkwan, dry humping, oral (m. receiving), petnames (f. receiving - darling, baby, good girl, etc.)

You keep visiting your friend’s bar so you can watch his cute coworker from afar, but you never expected he’d end up taking you home one night.

“Last call, m’lady.”

You look up from your drink to roll your eyes at the bartender, who also happens to be your friend Jun. 

“You’re such a dork.”

“Not as big of a dork as my friend who keeps coming to this bar to drool over my coworker.”

You glance past him at the other bartender, who is drying glasses at the opposite end of the bar. The sleeves of his white button-down shirt are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his toned forearms. You look back to Jun.

“Oh hush, it’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Sure, sure. Of course not. Anyway, you want another drink or no?”

You throw back the remainder of the mojito that’s already in your hand. “Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

“Okay great well I gotta go do something in the back, so you can ask Seungkwan.”

Jun zooms through the double doors to the kitchen before you can even protest.

You sigh as you look back down at your glass. You begin mindlessly stirring the remaining ice with your straw.

You sit there for a few minutes, waiting for Jun to come back - but he apparently isn’t returning anytime soon. You look over to see what the second bartender is doing, but you accidentally catch his eye and he begins walking over to you. Shit. 

“Did you need another mojito?” he asks as he goes to grab a clean glass.

“Nonono,” you stop him. “I’m good, thanks.”

He gestures to you with the rum bottle, which is already in his hand. “You sure?”

You think about it for a second. The eye contact he’s making with you right now is very distracting. 

“Okay, sure I’ll have one.”

Seungkwan makes you your drink and sets it in front of you. You expect him to walk off, but he just takes a step back, his eyes still on you. You peek down to see you’re the last person sitting at the bar. 

“Oh my god sorry, I don’t mean to be that person. I’ll close out now.”

“No rush, you’re fine.” He remains standing there, looking at you.

Feeling a little nervous, you pick up your drink and take a sip. You raise your eyebrows in surprise - this is the best mojito you’ve had in a while.

“Damn, your drinks are way better than Jun’s,” you tell him. His lips turn into a grin - one that might seem a bit smug on anyone else, but you can tell he’s genuinely pleased that you complimented him. 

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You go to take another sip but pause. “Actually, do tell him I said that. He’s been a little too confident lately.” He lets out an honest laugh, the sound musical. His perfect teeth flash with his smile. 

You’ve never really interacted with Seungkwan for longer than a few seconds - you’re used to simply enjoying how good-looking he is from afar. You thought you had caught him watching you the last few times you’ve been here (your attendance has increased in frequency lately), but you chalked it all up to your imagination. Now you have your doubts.

Since Jun has apparently vanished into thin air, you two start to chat - mostly small talk, really, but your extra mojito is definitely making you a little flirtier than normal. You giggle through your conversation as he finishes up his bar tasks, and he seems to be enjoying the conversation too - he’s always had a very friendly demeanor, but you’ve never seen the man laugh and smile this much.

You’re not paying attention, so you don’t realize the whole bar has fully closed until you see the manager glaring at you from across the room, telepathically trying to make you leave. 

“Well, I think I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome,” you say to Seungkwan with a pout as you get up and start to put on your jacket.

He leans on the bar toward you, his face closer to yours than ever. God, he is so beautiful.  

“Let me drive you home,” he insists. Normally you would decline, but you’re a little bit drunk and Seungkwan is incredibly hot.

“My home or yours?” you say teasingly.

“Mine, if you’d like.”

You freeze. You never actually expected him to say that. His round eyes gaze at you, his mind clearly in the same place as yours. You can’t help but grin back at him.

—

You barely make it through Seungkwan’s front door before he pulls your body into his, his strong hand on the back of your neck as he kisses you. You make your way to his couch, pushing him down onto it and immediately straddling his lap, pressing your lips back onto his. Your tongue makes its way into his mouth and his into yours, fervently making out with him as he runs his hands up your back. Time is lost as he kisses you, soft moans from both of you as you feel his pants grow tighter under you. Eventually he can’t wait any longer - he slides his large hands under your shirt, taking it off of you and tossing it away. He pulls you in, giving you a kiss on your chest as he squeezes your tits through your bra.

“Stand up,” he speaks suddenly. You obey - he undoes the button of your pants with one hand, the other palming his bulge through his pants.

“Finish that for me, darling.”

You follow his order, taking off your pants and casting them aside as he watches you while undoing his belt. His pants unzipped to reveal the hardness in his underwear, he grabs your hips and pulls you back onto his lap. You moan as your core presses onto his cock through your already-soaked panties. Making out with him again, you can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth, the friction against your clit sending you waves of pleasure. Your mouth keeps separating from his as you’re taken away in bliss, which you keep noticing and go back to kissing him, slowing your rhythmic pace of grinding against him. But he doesn’t let that go on for long - he pulls his head back and grasps onto your jaw softly, staring into your eyes lustfully. 

“Don’t stop.”

You begin to move your hips again. He groans as he resumes kissing you. 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he mumbles, his lips barely leaving yours. 

If your underwear weren’t completely saturated before, they definitely are now.

You pick up the pace. The hand on your jaw goes to your ass as he grabs you with both hands, controlling your tempo. The faster you go, the harder he grasps onto you. The outside of his underwear are now damp where you have been pressing your pussy against him, pleasuring yourself against his hard cock. 

“I wanna watch you make yourself cum like this,” he says, his voice low and raspy. You start to grind harder but he forces your hips to a stop.

“But - not until I say so. Okay?”

You nod your head at him.

“Words, baby. When can you cum?”

“When you say so,” you whine at him. 

“That’s a good girl.” The words send a shiver up your spine as your hot core throbs. He gazes at you, practically licking his lips, watching you unravel before him.

You resume, his hands pacing you - every time you try to go faster, you’re met with resistance. But he slowly lets you rub your clit harder against him. Your whimpers turn into moans, getting louder and more intense the closer you get. 

“Do you want to cum, baby?”

“Yes,” you cry, tears welling in your eyes. Every single nerve in your body is on fire. You won’t be able to hold it in much longer.

“Okay, cum for me.”

The release rushes over your body instantly. The sensation is overwhelming - you cry out as you ride out your orgasm, your body shaking into his. As you come down from your high, Seungkwan grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently tilting your head up to look into his dark eyes. 

“Such a pretty girl.” His large hand rests on the side of your face. “So pretty cumming for me.” Your core pulsates against his heavy bulge. 

You rest against him for a few seconds (minutes? hours?), your head nuzzled into his neck. Once you’ve recovered slightly, you sit up, planting another kiss on his lips before sliding down your knees.

“Your turn.”

Pulling the band of his underwear down, you take his cock in your hand, licking the precum off the tip before dragging your tongue up and down his length. He hums as you wet his cock, letting out a groan when you finally take him into your mouth. He places his hand on your head, pushing you down onto him, his length sliding down your throat. Your head starts to move up and down, tears running out of your eyes as you choke on him. Just like before, as you start to go faster his grip becomes stronger, this time against your hair. 

“Taking me so well,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum in your mouth.”

You swallow him all the way to his base, his cock drenched in your spit. It only takes a few more pumps before his groans grow louder. You begin to moan against his length, and the vibrations send him over the edge. He holds your head down as he cums, his hips gently thrusting, white ropes hitting the back of your throat. His body relaxes into the couch as his hand loosens its grip on your head. You slowly take his cock out of your mouth, being sure to swallow every last drop of his cum. 

He pulls you back onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso, drawing you into him so he can kiss your neck. 

“So, are you gonna keep visiting me at work?” he asks you between kisses.

“Only if you keep taking me home,” you quip as you stroke his hair.

You feel his lips smile against your skin. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

[end]

[iilmunchkiin]

Just saw an absolutely amazing post that convinced me that Ceroba would be the one who confesses first.

(op turned turned off reblogs unfortunately so I'm making this post (┬┬﹏┬┬)) ("Just put the link to the post here-" No, you absolute buffoon, they turned it off for a reason and I'm going to respect that) (also potential rambling?? again??) (future LM here, yep there is alot of rambling. this was supposed to be a character analysis but I accidentally made a fic halfway LMAOAOAOAOAOA )

god I'm a sucker for slow burn and angst (duh, you all know that) I used to think that Starlo wouldn't be able to take it anymore and finally get the balls to confess to her, he goes up to her and it'll be the usual cheesy but wholesome moment with him nervously laughing, Ceroba getting surprised so she turns away while brushing off some hair that got on her face, Starlo sheepishly rubbing the back of his head and stuttering to get the words out. It'll all be planned of course he's a gentleman, he's just so stupidly nice and understanding that if Ceroba just flat out tells him "I don't wanna be in a romantic relationship with you" I just know he's going to smile and tell her it's okay and he'd still be there for her and it won't affect their friendship at all and he's going to stay by her side de jashdkahsd sorry the brainworms are doing the thing again.

Of course the idea of Ceroba confessing first also came into my mind, her realizing she's in love with Starlo but now has to fight the guilt thinking that she's "betraying/cheating on Chujin" made the little angsty gremlin in me giggle but I just preferred it would be Starlo who breaks the ice just for shittles and giggles (I like seeing him get all blushy and shy HIHIHIHIH). Also adding the fact that Ceroba DID consider getting together with him but she brushes it off cuz she thinks he's still too immature. (Yes I am aware Ceroba acknowledges Starlo growing up in True Pacifist but I didn't give it that much thought I was in delulu land)

But then I saw the post and ho h my god oh my goddddddd.....

I was a fool

Starlo is aware of what Ceroba has gone through and as her childhood best friend he would respect her and not risk overwhelming her with a confession cuz OF COURSE HE WOULDNT, and if he DID consider confessing it would be YEARS after the whole "Clover-sacrificing-themselves-for-the-futue-of-monsterkind" ordeal but he would have probably fallen out of love at this point and it would go

⭐: "OH YEAH btw I had a crush on you when we were kids" 🦊: "HUH"

(not dismissing the chance he could still be in love with her despite that I mean he's dedicated and loyal and so damn devoted to her it makes sense, it was just had a funny thought giggles)

But then after reading the post, it reopened the idea of Ceroba confessing first and... oh my god it was glorious. It would start small, thinking he looked nice one day, subconsciously gazing at him and adoring him at the distance as he talks his usual nonsense at the saloon with the feisty 5, wanting to hang out with him a little more than usual, until it slowly builds up over time. She starts noticing the little things about him, his wide smile, the sound of his voice and the laughter he makes when he does his usual shenanigans with her in post-pacifist where things are starting to get brighter as they heal together, she would call him an idiot but god he would just smile at her again and the little dimples on the sides of his face would make her melt without knowing and she swears she felt her face get warm but brushes it off, thinking it's nothing. But that's where the snowball keeps getting bigger, she would see him talking to the folk again at the saloon and wish it was her he was laughing with, she'll quickly snap out of it, shake her head a little and think about how weird it was for her to have thought about that. She'd find herself beaming when he calls her name and feel so stupid for doing so, "Why am I so happy all of a sudden? He says my name all the time..."

And the snowball finally crashes when they have one of those talks, y'know the ones where you usually have at 3 am with your friends? Just talking about life in general, talking about the future, what are each of them scared of, what they feel and what they think about things, just being so vulnerable and open with each other. They've had their fair share of these talks but today was different. He looked absolutely stunning, despite being mentally exhausted he still looked divine, the way his eyes droop when his expression softens, the slow rise and fall of his chest when he sighs, his wide glistening smile turning into a small and soft curl on his lips. She can't help herself but make subtle touches and discreetly brush her shoulder against his as they lean towards the railings of the balcony, fighting the urge to just reach out and figure out small ways to make contact with him. She gazes at him the entire time, analyzing him, noticing all the little changes he makes, why can't she look away? She can't, she tried, so many times but it still ends up with her looking at him again trying to burn the image of him in her mind, wanting to leave it there forever. When the talk comes to a close, he turns to her and offers a hug, she accepts it and the moment he melts into her arms, she feels a sudden warmth on her chest and it instantly scatters around her entire body, enveloping her. They share each other's warmth, she slowly buries her face onto his shoulder, cherishing this small moment with him as they hold each other tight in each other's embrace. She's closing her eyes, inhaling his scent, it feels like she's in a dream, she doesn't want this moment to end, she doesn't wanna wake up just yet but.... They break a part, he gives her his goodbyes. As she goes home she lays in bed, face up, staring at the ceiling as she recalls everything that happened to her, putting pieces of the puzzle together as she finally comes to terms with herself and gets hit with the realization. It all comes crashing down to her, her eyes widen and she lets out an audible groan. She lays in silence for a moment, feeling absolute agony for being so stupid, she peaks through her fingers and looks back up the ceiling again, "Fuck..."

I haven't even dabbled with what goes on in her head after she accepts this fact, the sudden guilt consuming her, feeling like she betrayed Chujin, the person she loved with her entire soul only to fall for another. She hates it. And if she confesses she's going to be a wreck and Starlo just instantly goes to comfort her, telling her it's okay, she doesn't have to force herself to confess to h- No. She wants this, she's absolutely in love, he may have fallen first but she fell even harder, but with so much conflict in her mind, wanting to hold his hand without the weight on her shoulders pulling her back. The entire time they're together, Starlo finds the time to console her, comfort her, feeling horrible for making him stay up late just for her but he says he doesn't mind and he himself wants this, feeling absolutely honored to have her in her arms and that she trusts him so much that she's just so open and vulnerable and he's being so kind and patient to her I hate them I HATE THEM I FFUCKING HATE THUEJN R F FUCK FUCKF FFIFUUCJCC N I HATE THEMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

thE SLOW BURN IS SO SLOW BUT KEEP UP AND SET THE KITCHEN IN FLAMES PLEASE RAUGHHH

SAVE ME STAROBA W AS SAV VE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

TL;DR: uhhhh read a post and it convinced me that Ceroba slowly falls in love with Starlo over time without realizing it and when she finally does she feels really guilty cuz it feels like she's betraying Chujin, the slow burning is burning and the angst is scrumptious. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. /j