#literally in tears over the beginning

[homielander]

shiv's motivations for voting to pass the gojo deal are so layered and i don't think they should be dismissed in favour of any one interpretation. shiv desperately grabbed on to a lifeline for her relationship with tom. shiv was the deciding vote and she couldn't bear to hold the crown only for a moment just to place it atop her brother's head. shiv knew she would have more influence as wife of CEO rather than sister of CEO. shiv absolutely hated seeing kendall crystallize into logan before her eyes, especially when he made roman bleed ("and if we did kill him we get to go to bed") -- succession has always been about siblings so of course she tried to free her brothers before her child. shiv still thinks she can raise her child with all the material benefits of being the daughter of waystar CEO while doing better by her, whatever that means. and all of those things are true

[seastarlily]

Random thought is random, but if Mr. Krabs acts as a father figure to SpongeBob (he outright states that SpongeBob is like a son to him multiple times), and Squidward acts as a younger brother figure to Mr. Krabs (not outright stated, but at least heavily implied with the fact that he's been Mr. Krabs's go-to babysitter for Pearl since she was an infant and the fact she canonically calls him "Uncle Squiddy"), then would that make Squidward and SpongeBob like uncle and nephew?🤔

(Not a shipping post - please don't tag ships of any kind)

[fingertipsmp3]

Only I would get diagnosed with a hamstring tear and feel smug about it

[septembersghost]

I guess I was thinking of how SM became both a tool & a weapon to many celebrities. We can't fully step into their shoes. Integrity is something they guard- w/ privacy. Someone said how celebrities now are more exposed by SM- which takes a toll on mental health & their lifestyles- (and those who care about them). At times we only see what may be seen as "calculated"- a strategy- a vicious cycle- especially when people get cruel. Only the good (truth) die young, lies thrive (like weeds).

social media is such a nightmare and such a morass of cruelty and fabrication that if i had even the smallest level of fame, no one would ever hear from me again. i say this as someone who also cherishes sm because of it being my one outlet in the midst of illness, since it affords me my ability to connect with the world at all, and the blessing it provides me in the incredible friends i've made, and the help and comfort, knowledge and kindness, it has given me for many years as an invisible person in her room. the gulf between social media for us vs. for famous people is immense, and while they also have extraordinary privileges and wealth and resources we cannot access or even entirely calculate, which is a social imbalance, it comes with losses too. the celebrity vs. privacy, exploitation vs. art issue has always been unfortunate, if not outright tragic, since hollywood came into being. tabloids ruined lives and exposed confidentiality even back then, but now anyone with a cell phone and an imagination can snap a photo or send an anonymous tip in to a gossip account and the thought of that is terrifying. tbh we should only have to see the strategy - ie: the necessary press and marketing - and in return receive the art and accept it in an embracing and thoughtful way, but that's not the structure of the machine. we crave the personal, we seek the details, the pieces, we idolize or we tear apart based on very little. i'm guilty of this by nature of being here talking about it, you know? i enjoy learning about people and what their process is and what inspires them and what they carry and go through because that humanism reveals so much in the art and is a source of empathy and connection, but it's almost paradoxical that that's also the thing that can cause harm. they can't succeed at megawatt star levels without fans' love and interest, and yet that can turn hostile and damaging because the press and the negativity follows too. it's worn down people's mental health and well-being for decades because no one is built to live under and withstand such constant scrutiny and invasion, it's frankly a miracle anyone ever survives it and gets through somewhat intact. but that doesn't mean those who don't or can't were lacking. the testament to personal integrity and strength comes from many different individual facets. fans could help this by acting with more empathy as a whole, but sadly we see fandom devolve into fighting/bullying/intrusion consistently instead (and stan twt thrives on that mean-spiritedness for reasons beyond my comprehension), at which point the best we can do is to individually treat others with care, and approach the artists we admire with respect and compassion (and subjective boundaries) ourselves. we have to hope goodness and truth will rise to the top - and it doesn't always, but we can still try to champion it whenever possible.

[arolesbianism]

Made the mistake of listening to music that makes me think of the dream story™ Grim girlie girlieeeeeee *disintegrates*

[rxmye]

" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . . 

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[cavillscurls]

be my baby | logan howlett x f!reader

summary: logan fucks you in your sundress. warnings/tags: MDNI. this is literally porn. basically no correct lore/lore whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. soft daddy!dom logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. pet names (bub, baby, little girl). cockwarming. biting. some manhandling. riding. a smidgen of ass play. a smidgen of innocence kink. size kink. unprotected piv. one (1) spank. creampie. breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1.6k

He likes to keep you full. Satisfied. 

There is no stress, no lines of fear or concern painted across your pretty little face when he has you plugged full of his cock. He likes to watch them disappear, like magic, rolling off you in blissful waves when you sink yourself down him and breathe that glorious sigh of reprieve. 

His pretty girl, his perfect girl, who deserves to be a little mindless at the hands of the man who will bear the weight of her worries for her. 

“Eyes on me, bub.” His strong fingers cradle your jaw, tilting it towards him. “There you go, that’s a good little girl. Keep ‘em here.” 

He knew today would be one of those days. When you needed him a little more than usual, in ways others would fail to understand. He saw it the minute he laid eyes on you; the pout of your lips, the downturn of your brows, they called to him from across the room and stirred every instinct inside of him. 

Hours later, he’s finally got you alone, straddled over his thighs on the couch with his cock nestled deep inside of you. The hem of your pretty little dress hiked over the swell of your bare ass, the straps slipping down your shoulders, revealing the slopes of your neck and the swell of your breasts to him. He’s already sunk his teeth into the flesh, marking you, a reminder for all those around you that you already belong to someone. 

Your eyes, which find him on his command, are half-lidded. Dazed, nearly as wet as your lips that you keep biting every time the tip of him kisses your cervix. What were once slick, heavy bounces of your cunt up and down his shaft have now turned into desperate, wavering grinds of your hips. Your thighs tremble, having lost momentum, and your skin is sheen with sweat from the exertion of riding him. 

“Daddy,” you croak, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he’s putty in your hands. He can’t resist, not when you talk to him like this—fucked out eyes brimming with tears and the sweetest little voice, a siren's song. “C-can’t anymore… need help.” 

He’s been a little mean, having you work for it. But he wants to tire you out, get you good and loose so he can have you completely brainless. Entirely at his disposal. Then, he’ll make you come as many times as it takes until you forget what made your day so troublesome to begin with. 

His massive hands on your hips have remained relatively still, save for the way his calloused fingers dig into the plush of your ass every now and then, spreading your cheeks wide to feel the stretch of your cunt around him, tips just barely teasing the puckered little hole hiding there. He wants to overwhelm your senses; the big breadth of his chest against your body, the intimacy of his touch, the familiar scent of tobacco and leather. It’s dizzying, and he knows it. 

“You need help, baby?” he reiterates, a bit patronizing. You nod dumbly, still desperately trying to chase your high by rocking your hips. He feels you clench every time your clit rubs up against the hair at the base of his cock, shivering above him. The hand on your jaw doesn’t relent, but he lets his thumb slip over your lips, grinning triumphantly when you immediately part them and suck it into your mouth. He's trained you well.

“You gonna keep those eyes open if Daddy helps you? Let him see ‘em when you come?” he asks you, arching a stern brow. You nod again, a bit more eager, moaning a high-pitched promise of mmhm around his thumb. 

He’d be lying if he said he isn’t getting impatient himself. You’ve been sitting here for nearly an hour, and he had not even allowed you to move for the first twenty minutes he filled you. He likes to take his time with you. Break you down bit by bit until you’re malleable, until you beg. The sweet sound of it now breaks a bit of him, too, and he can’t ignore the building urge to brand you on the inside as well as he’s done outside.

“Alright, baby,” he acquiesces, pulling his hands off your face and finding your hips underneath your dress again. “Hold on to me.” 

You obey, wrapping your arms eagerly around his neck, tits pushed up and spilling out of your neckline against his chest. His eyes do a once over of the predicament you’re in, and he knows he’s a bad, bad man for enjoying this sight of you as much as he does. Sweet, young thing drooling around his cock, too impatient to even get your dress fully off of you—he wouldn’t have let you, anyway, content at the vision of pretty floral details and bows while the rest of you succumbed to corruption. 

Once he’s got you balanced in the palms of his hands, he doesn’t give you the opportunity to adjust before he’s lifting you off his cock only to slam you right back down it. You gasp, nails digging into his shoulders, and he sets his ceaseless pace. Flesh slaps against flesh when his hips begin to piston up off the cushions, meeting your bouncing body that he manipulates with ease. 

Your jaw unhinges, and he takes in the sight with pride. A rag doll of his choosing, only to be played with by him and him alone. The thought makes him growl, and his lips lean forward to capture one of your bouncing breasts, wrapping around the peaked nipple and sucking it into his mouth. He can feel the pour of nectar stick between your thighs, coating his and the couch below. Eventually, he grows restless, releasing your hips to wrap the entirety of his wingspan around your torso, flushing you taut against his chest with nowhere else to go as he uses your sweet, dripping pussy to his hearts content. 

The sounds of your hiccups and moans do little to drown out the obscene echos of squelching flesh and slapping skin. You do your best to keep your forehead pressed against his, but he takes note of the way your eyes begin to roll in tandem with your fluttering pussy. 

He unravels one of his arms, only long enough to give your ass a firm smack. You yelp and your eyes fly back open, trembling fingers clinging to his hair. 

“On me,” he grits, your only reminder before returning to his punishing pace. 

He knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl against his thigh, when your nails dig into his scalp a bit painful, and your cunt suffocates him. 

“Daddy,” you call again, garbled and hardly intelligible this time. A string of DaddyDaddyDaddy’s follow, and your breath begins to hitch in your throat, like there’s not enough air to keep you breathing. He’s stolen it from you, taken it for himself in hopes of leaving you wanting. 

He’s right there with you, brows pulled in concentration when he feels the familiar clench of his lower abdomen. The tingle that spreads throughout his thighs and pulses through his cock that’s molded to the shape of you. 

“Tell Daddy when you’re coming,” he commands, leaning up to steal your lips in a wet kiss and muttering against them: “Tell him so he knows when to fill this pussy up. That’s what you want, right baby? Want Daddy to fill you up real nice?” 

You try to tell him yes, but it comes out warped, high-pitched, and on the verge of breaking. It’s not even seconds later that you tell him you’re coming, repeating it over and over and over again until he can feel it happening. You squeeze him like a vice, his personal pocket of unmatched pleasure, pulsing and milking around him. You keep your eyes on him, like the good girl you are, though your lashes flutter and falter with the rest of your body that convulses in his stronghold. 

And he can’t help himself, can’t even starve off the buildup for a moment longer, and he's rearing forward, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Tickling the sweaty skin there with his beard before sinking his teeth into it again. He needs it to muffle the roaring groan that rumbles through his chest, to ground him as his cock begins to twitch and swell inside of you, borderline animalistic in the way his fingers bruise into your ribcage when he spills inside of you. 

He doesn’t stop his thrusts, though they grow shallow and slow. He huffs with each spurt of his release, the growing sensitivity weakening him. But he is bound to it, the pleasure you pull from him. No amount of dominance could diminish that. 

Eventually, the world stills. His breath comes back to him, his senses clear, but he does not move. Does not unfold you from him, nor make any effort to slip away. He listens to the sound of your breathing, quick and sporadic then slowing, shaky and deep. He kisses your hot temples, releases his paws from your flesh, and uses them to soothe up and down the length of your spine. He lets you slump against him, nuzzle up into his chest, body limp and satiated. 

He’ll have you sit like this, full of him, for another while, he thinks. Maybe even until you fall asleep, until the shape of him is built within you, until every last drop of his seed has the chance to be inside of you. 

Maybe this time, it’ll finally take. 

follow @cavillscurlsupdates and turn on notifs to be notified when I update!

[redr0sewrites]

Can I request hcs for batboys experiencing the best blowjobs in their life from their s/o who is shy and has no experience in the sexual activities (like this is their first time doing and they were eager to please the boys)?

🥀A/n: YES!!!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING!!!!

🥀Character(s): Dick Grayson x reader, Jason Todd x reader, Bruce Wayne x reader

🥀Cw: smut, blowjob, dirty talk, praise, inexperienced/virgin!reader

🥀minors dni

Dick Grayson :

he's more than a little cocky at first, cooing at you and treating you like a precious little angel. your inexperience and eagerness definitely turns him on a bit, and that makes him all the more susceptible to how skilled you are at giving him head

thinks it's cute how shy you are, and definitely wants you to be naked beneath him. he doesn't mind if you touch yourself while your pleasuring him, and thinks it's adorable how your eyes widen when you see how big he is

how is that going to fit in your mouth?

while he does tease and mock you just a liiiittle, Dick isn't an asshole

he talks you through it the entire time as he's gently pushing his cock into your mouth, praising you for taking him so well and brushing the tears from your eyes when you gag on his length

when you start sucking him off, Dick swears he's in heaven. he can't help but buck his hips and grind against your face, and it takes everything in him to restrain himself from grabbing a fistfull of your hair and fucking your throat

his head is tossed back and his thighs are twitching, he's mumbling out praises and unashamedly moaning your name like it's a prayer

if you tease him a bit like he did to you and edge him, he will cry and bitch and moan about it until you let him cum.

also, this man has STAMINA expect him to last a little while. if you end up getting too needy and start masturbating while sucking him off, Dick will instruct you on what to do, what pace you should set, and if you end up edging him, he'll make you edge yourself as well. i don't think he's a very strict dom often, but he is commanding when it comes to this. loooveesss when you moan around his cock, the vibrations make him even louder and he is not ashamed of screaming your name when he comes like a porn star. (literally everyone in a mile radius is traumatized)

for your first time, i dont think he'd make you swallow his cum, and it would take a little while until he asks to cum in your mouth. i do think he prefers if u swallow it though. and if you show him his cum in your mouth before swallowing? be prepared for at least 2 more rounds of him just eating you out cuz that turns him on SO QUICK. he prefers to cum in your mouth but won't for the first time out of fear that you think he's a weirdo (he is)

Jason Todd :

Jason is also big on praising you, especially when it comes to your first time sucking him off. he wants to make the experience as comfortable for you as possible and is adamant about having you tap out if anything makes you uncomfortable

thinks its hot when you kneel in front of him, he has a bit of a size kink and you in a smaller position turns him on more than he'd like to admit

makes you suck on his fingers before he lets you suck on his cock. he's a little bit mean and makes you spit on his dick as lube, there's something about how sloppy it is that makes him feral

holds your jaw while you take him in your mouth and coos the sweetest praises as you adjust to his size. Jason is quick to calm any anxieties you have about not being able to take him, and his hand doesn't leave your face the entire time you suck him off. whenever you gag or gasp around him, his thumb runs soothingly over your cheek and he pulls out ever so slightly

talks you through it at first, giving you firm instructions on how to please him.

"fuuck, yea doll, swirl your tongue jus' like that. see baby, you're a natural, practically made f'my cock.."

lots of soft grunts and groans with the occasional whine. he isn't as much of a talker as he begins to get close, but is still pretty vocal

prefers to pull out and cum on your chest, he definitely would not cum on your face but wouldn't mind cumming in your mouth. your chest is definitely his preference though, and he loves when you look up at him with big doe eyes as his release drips down your front

definitely returns the favor and makes you cum at least twice, and is also big on aftercare!!

Bruce Wayne :

listen, while Bruce is definitely into blowjobs, he gets off on your pleasure more than his own. he'll buy you one of those remote controlled vibrators to use on you while your sucking him off, and increases the vibrations when he's close so you both cum at the same time

very gentle with you. he doesn't want to make you gag or hurt you, and he keeps a cautious hand gently resting on the top of your head as you take him into your mouth

loooots of praise, especially when you moan around his cock from the vibrator

Bruce is very quiet during sex in general, but he's a little more vocal than usual when receiving head. he lets out soft sighs and groans of pleasure, mixed in with praises and affectionate whispers of your name

"yes, darling, just like that... so good f'me..."

his thighs twitch and shudder a looot when you suck him off, and his back arches ever so slightly <3 its a very pretty sight to see

while your first time would probably be in the safety and comfort of your bedroom, Bruce loves the intensity of semi-public sex. he definitely wants you to suck him off under his desk, the risk and thrill of being caught all the more prominent whenever footsteps are heard walking by his office doors

likes teasing you and edging you with the vibrator, he wants this to be a pleasurable experience for both of you but may tease you just a bit about cumming untouched

prefers to cum in your mouth, but he'll ask if it's okay before he does so. its a bit of a dirty secret, but he loves kissing you after you gave him head and tasting himself on your tongue. he isn't exactly possessive, but it arouses him more than he'd care to admit

very sweet with aftercare! he'll chuckle at you a bit if you complain about having a sore jaw, but otherwise treats you very well. he definitely always eats you out after you auck him off, even though you've already came. he also would be into experimenting with the remote control vibrator some more if your interested.... 😇

if this seems a teensy bit bad then im sorry, i wrote it while very sleep deprived 💀

ANYWAYS!!! HOPE U ENJOYED!!!! plsplsoslspslsps PLEASE send in jason todd asks this is not a drill

[moechies]

hihi!!! plsplspls do toji putting on a flavored condom for his bunny girl (vanilla :3) and jus letting her lick on his dick before he makes her deep throat it

omg . this is literally the cutest ask i’ve ever gotten </3 thank u bby anon for ur amazing mind :<

“y’like it ?” he purrs, fingers wrapped tightly around your floppy ears. his fingers sneakily pet against the soft fur, unable to get enough of your silky fluff.

“m-mhm, toji. ‘s sweet !” your little pink tongue lolls from your lips, short but sweet licks to his warm, heavy cock. “mm, knew you’d like it.” he grins, head laid flat against his fists as he inspects you from above.

you’re sat on your knees like a puppy, two hands around his lengthy shaft to succumb for your poor mouth-work. but he doesn’t mind, the cute sight itself is enough is able to get him off just fine.

“suck on it like a lollipop, bunny.”

“l-lollipop ?” you question, head tilting slightly.

“yeah, like this.” his hand tugs at your ears, making you squeal. he drags you above his cock, mouth hovering directly over his crimson tip. you drool at the sight itself, eyes crossed and focused on the fat slit before you.

“w-wan’ it, daddy,” you sniffle, mouth coming down to wrap around the cock head.

“be patient. keep y’r head down.” you hum around the fat bulb, the gentle vibrations causing him to thrust unintentionally. you suckle on the bulbous tip, streaks of saliva sliding down his covered shaft and small spit bubbles forming.

you attempt to pull off in embarrassment, realizing how lost you had gotten in the pleasure of the sweet, intriguing flavor, but you’re stopped by the man’s large hand.

“none of that, c’mon.” he growls, hand pushing your head down lower onto his fat shaft. you throttle your foot in a panic, feeling your lips stretch painfully around him to accommodate his length.

you squeal, hands pushing at his thighs in an attempt to let him off, but it doesn’t work. he simply ignores your worries, dragging your little mouth up and down with a hard grip on your little ears.

“that’s it. does it still taste good?” he teases, watching as crystalline tears begin to form in your sockets, beading along your lash line. you nod to the best of your ability, poor bunny butt aimlessly grinding onto nothing. your cunt aches, looking for any sort of simulation to ease the struggle and the man notices.

“oh. bunny wants something?” he teases, prodding the back of his foot against your silky cunt. you jerk with a yelp, tears wetting your soft lashes and tainting your dewy cheeks.

“d-dwaddy.”

“s alright, daddy’ll give you what you want soon. i always do, don’t i?”

he groans of the sight of your drooly mouth slobbering all over him, losing your little mind over a little cock. spit falls and paints his thighs and your hands, ones you’ve kept in place to keep the man satisfied.

he watches intently at how your little throat bulges back and forth from the intrusion, and your pretty swollen lips stretched almost painfully around him.

he laughs,

“should do this more often.”

[2tarbell]

omg omg, mean!rafe being so pussy drunk he begins to blabber praises to crybaby, who feels confused between loving and hating the big change, cuz even when she’s still being pounded into tears, she still just wants her rafey to be mean!! :c

MEAN!RAFE + CRYBABY!READER ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

rafey coming home from a looooong day of bein’ all rough and intimidating, his crybaby is there with issues of her own. pouty at whatever bullshit she decided was wrong that day. rafe is exhausted, completely worn out from the workload he’s dealing with. so he lets her yip like a little puppy at him, unaware of the boiling tension just under the surface of his icy gaze, until he can’t take it anymore, grabbing her throat and telling her what’s gonna happen next.

(“yeah? you wanna— wanna act like a big girl? upstairs. clothes off.”)

maybe it’s mean, maybe rude; crybaby doesn’t give two shits (if the glossy stain on her blue undies says anything).

that’s how she ends up bouncing breathlessly on his cock, choked sobs leaving her swollen lips each time she sinks down, “dad— daddy… sssshhhit…”

rafe is leaning back on the headboard, his hands rough against the supple skin of her hips. it’s all grunts and babbles of incoherent pleasure from the two — the sting from his mean words making her mind feel hazier & hazier.

“yeah, put that fuckin’ shit to use — c’mon, baby,” he mutters, blue eyes transfixed on the twist of her bottom half. watching with bated breath as she swallows his length easily, pussy so wet it’s sloppy.

but then she’s planting her palms on his abs and grinding her hips down, the drag so delicious and mind-numbing it makes rafe choke. his eyes roll back as the pressures of the day fading away until all that’s left is the warmth of her walls around him. her sniffles and broken moans make his length pulse.

his eyes roll back, body shuddering and large hands keeping her down on his cock, “fuck, slower…”

his slurred command shocked reader, expecting dirty words & scolds. but, always eager to please, she moves in deeper, slower grinds, eyes clenched shut in concentration to keep her rhythm. her efforts earn a buck from the man under her — gasps and growls falling from his mouth.

“yes, yes— fuck, atta girl… making this dick feel so good, baby.”

his hand trails up her body, grabbing her chin tenderly and directing her wet, low-lidded gaze back to him. suddenly he’s rolling her against him with more fervor, taking control of her hips with his arm wrapped fully around her waist. their foreheads are pressed together tightly, noses bumping with each drag.

rafe speaks lowly, voice almost in a drunken slur, “god, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. look at me… jesus, just—like—that…”

the sweet whisper of his words reach her ears and she feels pathetic when a pang shoots from her heart right to her core. more arousal gushed around him, feeling confused at the thump-thump in her pussy & heart.

crybaby was used to the mean daddy that punished her and literally spit in her mouth. but this version of her man — all soft and touching her with a sense of reverence — left her melting further into his guided movements.

“f-f-fuuck, daddy, gonna make me cum,” she whined, hands moving up to clutch his cheeks. she felt hot and tingly, furrowed brow as she tried to grasp her orgasm, approaching it.

“there you go, good fuckin’ girl— cream all over daddy, baby. lemme hear you cry—”

she sobbed as her body finally couldn’t take it anymore, tensing before shaking and trembling through her release. the clench of her walls around him make rafe hiccup, release sputtering into her awaiting core.

they both were a mess of sweat and tears, breathing like they’d just run a marathon as the adrenaline started to wear off. he runs his nails across her back and nuzzles his nose in her hairline, inhaling her unique sent.

the softness was a surprise but something she let herself fully enjoy! sometimes they both needed something sweeter <3

[undrthelights]

I’m seriously in shambles after reading this chapter oh my god…. my chest HURTS i can’t believe they’re gonna have to say goodbye again please…

your writing is seriously something else, every chapter is so amazing and the emotions i feel while reading… unreal

hot & heavy

chapter seven: a conversation stuck in your throat

neighbor!joel x afab!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 8k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced/virgin reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners (use of sir & ma’am), feeling familial and self-pressure, undefined relationship, likely poor spanish grammar, pining joel, DIRTY. TALK., sexting, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, POSSESSIVE!JOEL, lil splash of size kink, overstimulation (crying), consensual somno, praise kink up the wazoo, this chapter really speaks to the duality of man

6:00 AM

FROM: Joel 

Morning, mi Mariposa

I thought about you last night.

6:20 AM

Any chance you would come over early for me, sweetheart?

I really missed you when you were away.

Promise you can nap later.

In my bed.

6:23 AM

You could even sleep right away if you wanted.

Would you let me touch you while you were sleeping, darling?

Make you dream about me, and then when you wake up I’d be right there making you come.

Sounds nice, yeah?

6:45 AM

Mariposa

Sweet girl

Please wake up beautiful, I miss you.

I want you.

7:02 AM

Darling, I’m about this close to somehow climbing in your window and waking you up myself.

I’m aching for you, pretty girl. I keep hearing those sweet little sounds you make. You moaning my name or calling me sir.

I’m fucking leaking through my boxers at the thought of you.

7:20 AM

Mariposa, are you awake yet?

I don’t think I can wait any longer, sweetheart.

I need you so bad, mi diablita. I want to fuck you hard into my mattress. I want to fill you up, and then you can come on my cock after you ask me like the good girl I know you are.

You woke up a few minutes ago, your alarm blaring at 7:30 AM. Way earlier than you normally set it for, if you even set it during the summer, but you knew that Joel would be upset if you wasted a rare morning that he has alone.

When you picked up your phone and saw all the unread messages from him, the notifications made you smile. Scrolling through his messages, your smile turned into a smirk, satisfied with the way this man was on the verge of begging for you. It was a moment to savor — you knew as soon as you walked in his door that he would be making you plead for it. For his fingers, for his mouth, for his cock. Joel Miller loved to tease you, get you all worked up before he finally gave you what you wanted.

He always gave in, in the end.

7:34 AM

Joel, it’s Sunday morning.

The Lord’s Day.

And you’re sending me a bunch of dirty messages?

Scandalous!

7:34 AM

It’s my day to have you.

That proceeds any fucking guy in the sky.

7:35 AM

Soooo you’re gonna be mad if I tell you I’m getting ready for church?

7:35 AM

Mariposa, if you get over here right now I’ll make you see God.

No need for church.

Let me worship you, cielito.

Ten minutes later, you’re walking up to Joel’s door.

Your parents left for church early this morning, getting the first mass in so they could make it to the airport to pick up your brother. You sent your mom some excuse about hanging out with friends — something vague enough to not endure questioning but reason enough for your car to be home without you there.

Before your lifted hand can knock against the wooden door, it swings open to reveal Joel waiting with bated breath on the other side. It pulls a quiet giggle from your lips, the frantic look in his eyes, and the impatient tap of his foot.

“Were you waiting at the door this whole time, Joel?” you ask with a raise of your eyebrows, a grin pulling at your lips.

“No, ‘course not. I was keeping an eye on your front door from the couch. Just ran over when you were crossing the lawns,” Joel shrugs and brushes off the next look you give him, one that crinkles your eyes and spills a laugh from you.

“Adorable.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Alright, enough laughin’ at me. Pretty sure that smug look is gonna be wiped off your face soon.” He smirks this time, taking one step to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you inside, closing and locking the door as he presses you up against it.

One hand holds you there at your hip, digging his thumb into the bone while the rest of his fingers bruise your skin from their tight grip. The other hand comes to rest against the wood next to your head, boxing you in. Looking down at you, he bends his head to trace his nose against yours, matching up your lips and hovering over the spot. Both of your mouths are slightly open, breathing slow exhales of warm air to each other.

It isn’t the first time he’s going to kiss you since you’ve seen him again. That was yesterday. But this moment feels different. Something stirs in your gut, as if it’s awakening from laying dormant while you were away from him.

“Been thinking of you all morning, darlin’,” his lips trail his humid breath across your cheek, his plush bottom lip grazing the skin at certain points. He settles next to your ear, speaking again with his voice with a low, syrupy, caramelly inflection, “Y’know, had a dream about you last night. Woke up so fucking hard. But I didn’t touch myself. Was waiting for the real thing.”

Teeth against the pulse point under your ear make you whimper, your legs buckling slightly from keeping them locked. Joel’s hand on your hip steadies you, his full body pressing against you and weighing you against the door.

“You gonna let me have it, sweetheart? Gonna be my good girl and let me take you over and over and over again until I’ve fucking spent everything I’ve been saving for you? Hm?”

 All you manage in response is a quiet moan, feeling his hard cock pressing into your stomach. You wiggle in his hold, another whimper that sounds more like a frustrated whine tumbling from your lips as you attempt to feel more of him.

“Nuh-uh. Gotta answer me, sweet girl. Are you gonna let me do that to you? Fuck you hard and rough and fill you up with me until it’s spilling out of you? You want that, mi diablita?”

“Yes yes yes, Joel. I want that. I want you, want your fingers, and-and your mouth. Fuck, I want your cock,” your head falls back with a thud on the surface behind you, eyes screwing shut as you try to calm yourself down from Joel’s thwarting.

“Oh, c’mon, sweetheart. What did I teach about manners last year? Gotta be polite if you want something.”

Your eyes snap open to be faced with Joel’s, darkened to a sable black. One corner of his mouth is lifted, the hand that was once resting on the wood moves to wrap around the front of your neck, using his thumb to tilt your chin up.

“Yes, sir. I want that, a lot. Please and thank you.” The last word comes out as a gasp muffled into Joel’s mouth as he kisses you deeply, immediately coaxing your mouth open and melting his tongue against yours. A moan strains from your throat as Joel grinds his bulge into you, boxers that he slept in tenting with a wet spot around his tip.

His hand at your hip shifts position, dragging up the curve of your side and taking the fabric of your shirt up with it. Under the wrinkles of material, his palm covers your breast, kiss paused for him to question you.

“Did ya wear somethin’ special for me, sweetheart? Feels like something real fancy here,” he punctuates with a squeeze of your breast, rough-working skin perking your nipple and causing you to keen with your head falling forward into the loose grip he has around your neck. He works to move your head up, meeting your eyes as he holds your chin up with an expectant look.

“Yes, sir. Wanted—” You are cut off with another squeeze to your breast, a leg of his pushing between your thighs and up against your center, “Wanted to look pretty for you. Since I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Joel’s grinning like a madman, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips that contrasts the dominating stance.

“Too good to me, Mariposa,” another kiss, “And you know you’re beautiful to me in anything you wear.” His tone is sincere — thoughtful and all heart. It sends a rush to that constant swirling in your stomach, raising that feeling to sit in the middle of your throat. He leaves you no space to respond, capturing your mouth in another heady kiss, pulling you away from the door with his arms circling around to rest one at your back on the band of your bra and the other at the nape of your neck.

“Upstairs,” he manages to get out once the two of you separate for a breath, guiding you back to the stairs. He unravels from you after a quiet huff of protest, encouraging push to your waist to turn around and climb the stairs. You move ahead of him, stumbling when he reaches out halfway up the staircase to grab at your thighs and stall you long enough to sink his teeth into the swell of your ass through the linen skirt you slipped on minutes ago in your bedroom.

“Joel! Christ, gonna make us fall down the stairs and get concussed,” you reach a hand back to swat him away, a whimper crawling out of your chest when he bites you again.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles as he finally lets you go completely, following you into his bedroom.

It’s a scramble of hands and limbs lifting and tugging to strip both of you down, Joel still in his boxers and you standing in the mesh cupped bra dotted with floral appliques and matching panties — both in a soft shade of Joel’s favorite color, purple. He steps back from you, hungry eyes canvassing your body in the lingerie before they flick up to your face and his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Really was for me, huh? Got something in my favorite color?” He walks you back to the edge of his bed, your knees bending to sit when the creases of them hit the mattress,  a wide smile on his face with no hint of teasing, “You are my sweet girl. Always thinkin’ of others. Can I show you how much I appreciate you, Mariposa? How much I missed you when you were away?”

“Yes please,” you gasp when his hand reaches between your legs, pressing slow-moving circles into your clit through the wet fabric sticking to your cunt. He bends forward to kiss you as his fingers slip under the mesh material, coating themselves with your arousal and pressing them into your entrance one knuckle deep before pulling out.

“Joel—”

“Patience, darlin’. Just need to get you onto the bed more,” he chuckles against your lips before he pushes on the backs of your thighs to coax you further toward the center of his mattress. He climbs onto it over you, spreading your legs and peeling your panties from your legs. He discards them at the end of the bed, the careless toss landing them on the corner of the frame.

“Did you like my messages, sweetheart?”

“Yes—yes, I did.”

He hums as he takes you in, strong eye contact as he asks you, “Did you like the idea of me waking you up by making you come?”

You nod quickly, gasping when his thumbs brush your nipples through your bra.

“I did, I really liked it. You could do it — I want you to do it. I trust you.”

His hand finds itself back at your center, the same two fingers running through your folds and pushing slowly into you to fill you up. Your eyes shut in response, breath hitching when he curls them up to press into your walls.

“Fuck, Joel…Missed this so much—missed you so much.”

“Mm, I know what you mean, sweetheart. Couldn’t ever get you out of my head. No one else has been in this bed since you, mi cielito. No quería a nadie más cuando todo lo que necesitaba eras a ti (I didn't want anyone else when all I needed was you).”

You think back to that handful of hookups you had, immediately feeling guilty that Joel had waited and you, well, you hadn’t. Granted, every time you ended up imagining it was Joel, closing your eyes and seeing him above you or below you. Imagining it was his hands on you.

But that does nothing to lessen the way you get choked up, unable to say anything both from the physical response of your body to Joel’s touch again, his fingers moving in and out of you at a perfect pace, and the emotional spiral you’re going through in your head.

If he expected a response, he says nothing, shifting to lie down on the bed between your legs and giving your inner thighs nips before he kisses your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive nub and drawing louder moans from you.

“Mm, fucking Christ, taste even sweeter than I remember, darlin’.”

His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flattening his tongue against you while his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling up to find that spot he knew well. It all comes barreling over you at once, pleasure erupting over your body suddenly. You clench around Joel’s fingers, flooding between your thighs and around his mouth. Your brain short circuits in one second, spilling your thoughts that were fighting to keep inside.

“I didn’t wait — I’m sorry, Joel. I didn’t—” Your hands grip the sheets, quick breaths in and out as you catch up to your quickened heart rate.

“Hey, sweet girl, it’s okay. Don’t need to wait for me to tell you every time you come,” he supports himself on an elbow and you can feel him looking at you as your eyes turn away, unable to face him as you make your confession clear.

“No, no — I mean, I didn’t…I slept with other people.”

Silence falls between the two of you, your eyes fixed on the nail of your left index finger scratching against the material of his bedsheets.

Joel’s hand gingerly grabs your chin, turning your head to face him and forcing your eyes to follow.

“Who?” His voice is low, vibrating in your ears.

“W-What?”

“Who was it?” Unwavering timbre.

“Um, just like a kid from one of my classes. A couple of guys I met at some parties throughout the year. Random. They were just random hookups.”

Joel hums as he stays between your legs, one finger pushing inside you as he speaks again.

“Ever hooked up with any of them more than once?”

His finger moves slowly, another added to stretch you more when you’re quiet. A moan falls from your lips, his other hand still holding your chin to look at him.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart…Did you see any of them more than once?”

His fingers curl into that one spot that makes your head dig back into the mattress, shaking your head wildly back and forth.

“No, no never. One time with each of them.”

You whimper when his hand moves faster, biting your bottom lip between your teeth and attempting to focus on him when he speaks.

“What were they like?”

His thumb on your face coaxes your lip from your teeth, eyes burning into yours as he awaits you answer. Thick fingers fill you up, his thumb of the same hand finding your clit and circling it in pace.

“T-They were just guys, I dunno. Didn’t really know them that well…” you interrupt yourself with a whine, feeling the rope in your stomach pulling taut as Joel fucks you with his hand.

“Had to have known a little bit about them to fuck ‘em, darlin’. Were they nice to you?”

“I-I guess so, yeah.”

Joel hums and curls his fingers with the next uptick, pressing against that spot inside a few times before resuming his movements.

“Were they nice to you in bed? Made you come?”

“They were nice. Some of them made—made me come. A couple didn’t.”

You gasp out another moan when he starts to fuck his fingers into you even faster.

“Yeah? Those guys that made you come, did they fuck you like me?”

“N-No, no they never did. I thought about you. Every time it was somebody else, even my hand.”

“That so, sweet girl? Missed me so much you imagined all those other guys’ cocks were mine?”

“Yes! Fuck — yes, Joel!”

“Any of ‘em as big as me? Fill you up like I do?”

“No, not even fucking close.”

“Any of them come inside you?”

“No. Only you.”

“Mm, that’s right. This pussy’s mine, isn’t it, Mariposa?”

All you can do is nod, choked up by the pleasure building inside you.

“Dime, mi chica dulce. Dime. (Tell me, my sweet girl. Tell me.)”

“It’s yours, Joel. My pussy’s only yours. Only ever yours.”

The rope is fraying inside of you, on the verge of snapping as the squelching sound of your arousal around his fingers fills the room, whimpers of his name the only words spoken.

“Then fucking come for me. I wanna feel my pussy come on my hand.”

The words break the final threads, pleasure flooding across your body and stilling you body under him as you grab at his shoulders to anchor yourself. Your loud, wanton moans fill the space, egged on by Joel’s soft encouragements.

Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s laying between your legs again. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, darlin’? You said it was mine, didn’t you?” He challenges and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head back between your thighs.

He pulls two consecutive orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain feels like mush, limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed. Your eyes are closed as you feel Joel get onto his knees after stripping his boxers, one hand tapping the outside of your thigh.

“Flip over onto your stomach, baby. Not finished with you yet.”

“J-Joel, I don’t think I can move.” You huff out a breath, opening your eyes to see him staring down at you with insatiable eyes.

“You can. Now do it, sweetheart.”

You take a few more slow breaths before flipping yourself over, shaky arms giving out when you attempt to hold yourself up. Joel’s hands find your hips pulling up so you rest your weight on your knees and your torso angles down to where your head and arms rest on one of his pillows.

“Bet none of those guys treated you right, mi cielito. No one knows how to really take care of you, huh? ‘Sides me. I know just how you like, baby, and that’s how ‘m gonna give it to you, yeah?”

“Please, Joel. Need your cock. Thought about it all the time, missed it so much. Missed you.”

You whine when he grabs at one of your asscheeks, squeezing harshly as he moves his knees to the outside of yours, hooking his ankles over yours to lock you in the position. Without warning, he lines himself up and presses the thick head of his cock inside you. A loud moan sounds from your mouth, unable to hold back anything with the way your mind is lagging. Fingers tangle into the sheets, mouth staying open as you choke out sounds while his cock slowly fills you with an agonizing movement of his hips.

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Perfect fucking cunt, so tight, fits me just right, don’t you?”

All you manage is a nod when he’s balls deep, grinding your hips back onto him in small circles. He quickly pulls out nearly all the way before beginning a punishing pace.

The sounds of skin against skin cut through your wild, borderline pornographic moans, Joel’s name slipping from your tongue over and over with each pounding of his hips into you.

“Aguantarla, mi chica malo. Take it, baby, fucking take it.”

If it weren’t for Joel’s vice grip on your body, he would surely have fucked you off of the mattress at this point, the power behind his hips nudging the tip of him into your cervix at this angle.

“Who does your little pussy belong to, mi cielito? Dime.”

“You-you, Joel. Fuck, it’s yours!” Your voice pitches up with a particularly hard thrust, choking out his name as he keeps up the speed and force of his hips.

His grunt melts into the sounds of your wetness around his cock, skin on skin of your thighs. Fingertips bruise into your sides, knuckles turning white as you grip the sheets tighter.

Tears form in your eyes, slowly falling as you hear Joel’s voice but can’t quite make out the words. When you don’t respond to him, one arm wraps around your waist, the other holding your chin to support your head as he handles you like a rag doll, pulling you up to sit back flush to his chest, hips unrelenting.

The drops from your eyes fall quicker now, pleasure filling every crevice of your insides that it makes you feel as if you’re going to implode. It’s never gotten to this point with Joel or anyone else, and your brain can’t think of anything besides chasing that inevitable high.

The hand from your chin moves slightly, wiping the tears cascading down your cheeks and Joel’s voice filling your ear at the side of your head.

“Yeah, feels good, don’t it?”

You try to agree, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper, more droplets spilling from your eyes the longer you sit at the edge. His hand finds your chin again, turning your head to face his at your side, a smirk happily on his lips as he chuckles low and satisfied.

“Guess I fucked all the words out of your head. It’s okay, pretty girl, you just talk to me with those little sounds I love.”

At that point, you whine with every thrust, his cock drilling the sounds out of you. With one, two, three more hits of his head at your cervix, you tense up in his arms, head falling back on his shoulder with your loudest moan of the morning. Your mind is completely wiped, only sensation being the jittery tingle that rushes over your body and turns your limbs to jelly. Joel holds your weight as he fucks you through it, grunting in your ear as he finishes inside of you, spilling his come for what feels like minutes. His warm spend fills you to the brim, squeezing and dripping out around his cock buried inside of you.

His sheets will need to be changed, but there is no part of you that feels like it could move your body from this bed.

Joel carefully pulls out of you, a sharp hiss involuntary from your lips as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. He guides you to lie down, slipping a second pillow under your head like he knows you like.

After cleaning you with a warm washcloth he retrieved from the bathroom, he climbs into bed behind you, wrapping you up in his arms as the little spoon. One hand strokes your hair, pulling it out of your face and behind your ear while he presses soft kisses to your head and shoulder.

“Did so good for me, Mariposa. My sweet girl.”

Your eyes flutter close, body melting into the mattress and into his chest. His gentle voice vibrates in your ear as you drift off completely.

“You know I don’t care who you’ve slept with or how many times or anything like that, right baby? I want you ‘cause you’re you. Mi diablita. My sweetheart. Mi Mariposa. Don’t wanna let you go again.”

His heart hasn’t slowed down.

He tried to sleep next to you, but he couldn’t calm down enough to actually turn off his brain. Instead, he watched the rise and fall of your chest, his lips pressed into your hair as he kept breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

A fucking angel. That’s what you have to be.

Your soft features, slightly parted lips. He wants to press a kiss to your Cupid’s bow, the tip of your nose.

You must be an angel or some sort of entity to be this perfect. To be that genuinely kind-hearted. To find a way to forgive him, or at least forget what he did to you for this month.

How is he deserving of you?

Well, he can answer that. He isn’t.

His fingertips skim over your skin, across your stomach and over your breasts. Trailing down to your thighs.

The silky, pliable feeling of you draws his blood to his cock, swelling him to halfway. He adjusts his position next to you, kissing your shoulder as he palms himself with his hips tilted away. His slow strokes get him fully hard, whimpering muffled against your skin as he works his hand up and down his length.

The conversation you two had earlier, talking about him waking you up on the edge of coming, replays in his mind. His eyes fall down to your ass stuck out behind you in your curled sleeping position, swallowing his saliva down his throat.

His movements are languid as he wraps an arm around your stomach again, shifting down the bed a few inches to line himself up with where your thighs meet your center.

Gradually, he pushes his cock between your fleshy inner thighs, holding a groan in his throat at the feeling.

His heart rate thumps quickly, the added challenge of keeping you asleep as long as possible turning him on even more.

“Fuck, darlin’. Such a sweet girl to let me do this to you. My dirty girl.”

He moans a bit louder, biting his tongue as his hips drag back and forth. You adjust in your sleep, and he stills, waiting for you to settle before moving again.

It’s getting him close, but it’s not enough for him. Just as he grazes his teeth on your shoulder, your eyes flutter open, your sleepy voice speaking groggily.

“Joel? You need something?”

He grunts, nodding his head on your shoulder.

“Please, darlin’. Jus’ wanna put it in, please.”

You nod lazily, lifting your leg and resting it on his thigh behind you to spread you open for him. He huffs out a desperate breath, coating himself in your wetness still there from before, more dripping from your cunt as he slips his cock into you. You whimper and hiss quietly and Joel attempts to soothe you with candied kisses to your shoulder and neck.

“So good to me, mi cielito…Such a special girl. Think you were made for me. Exactly what I was wishing for. How’d I get so lucky?”

Your breath hitches with the leisurely hang of his hips; a hand moves to your front, finding your clit and rubbing it in heavy circles. A hand of yours grips his wrist, the other reaching up and back to tangle your fingers into his hair and tug. You’re shaking your head as you beg.

“Please, Joel, I can’t…”

His chin hooks over her shoulder, lips brushing her ear as he whispers, “You can. Such a good fucking girl, taking it so well for me, huh?”

He nips at your ear before continuing, “C’mon, mi Mariposa, just one more for me. One more time, you can do it. ‘S gonna feel real good.”

Rapid breaths compress and expand your chest, eyes squeezing shut as you whine, his name falling from your lips in a quiet puff as you reach that last gentle peak he’s brought you too. Less intense than the others but still clouding your brain with dopamine.

His hand rubbing your clit crawls up your front, grabbing your chin gently and turning your head up to the ceiling. A kiss is pressed to the corner of your mouth, his hips fucking you through the tender orgasm and working to his own, “That’s my girl. So perfect — feels good like I said it would, right? Jus’ a little bit more for me sweetheart, can you you do that?”

You nod as quickly as you body will let you, eyes dragging to the side to try to look at him. 

One moan of his name from you, so delicate and syrupy, brings him to his high, spilling with slow, hard hits as he whines in your ear.

Your leg stays over his, holding him inside as you already drift off to sleep again. A quiet, incoherent mumble makes him smile, “Stay like this, please. Feels good having you this close…”

After you’re knocked out, he whispers in your ear, “Don’t deserve you, Mariposa.”

He complies with your request, softening inside you as he finally manages to drift off for a nap himself.

A soft knock comes from the front door, followed by about three rapid rings of the doorbell. You stand up from the couch, turning off the TV and smoothing down the skirt of your sundress as you walk to answer the door. The deadbolt clicks undone and when the door opens, there is seemingly no one there.

“Posey! You’re home!”

A smile stretches across your face as you look down at the smallest Miller, laughing softly and bending down to be at eye level with her.

“Hey there, Sare-Bear! What’s brought you over here today?”

She swishes the skirt of her own sundress as she twists back and forth, a grin on her face as she looks over her shoulder. Your eyes follow her head, seeing Joel standing at the side of his truck and waving to you. A short wave is sent back to him from both you and Sarah, the eight-year-old facing you again.

“Daddy’s taking me to that one farm that’s got berries to pick and that big thing with all the butterflies in it. He thought maybe you would want to do it too, so I ran over here to see if you were home and to ask you if you wanted to come with us! Pretty please, Posey, it will be so much funner if you come!”

The invitation makes you laugh happily, nodding your head and brushing some curls from Sarah’s face, “I would love to join, sweet pea, that sounds like so much fun. I need to just get some shoes on and get my purse, why don’t you head back to your daddy’s car and I will be right out?”

“Okay, but don’t take too long! I don’t want all the good berries to get picked by other people,” Sarah says seriously before turning around and running down the stairs of your porch and across the grass. You laugh at her antics, standing up and quickly stepping inside to slip your Chuck Taylors onto your feet and lace them up, grabbing your crossbody and throwing it over your shoulder.

After locking up the house, you walk over to meet Joel at the passenger side of his truck, Sarah secured in her booster seat in the back row. There’s a cheeky grin on his face as you step closer to him, a smirk on your face.

“Using your cute kid to invite me out is quite a move, Miller.”

“It’s called usin’ your resources, Mariposa. Guarantees me a ‘yes’,” he winks and opens the car door for you, stepping back to let you climb in. He offers a hand to help balance you as you climb up, looking at you with an affectionate smile before he closes the door and jogs around the front.

His fingers tap anxiously against the steering wheel as the three of them sit at the last light before their turn, eyes glancing in the rearview mirror to see Sarah staring out the window.

Light’s still red.

His lips press into a line, that airy feeling in his stomach kicking up when he takes a second to look at you in the passenger seat, your own eyes trained to the side before flicking over when you must feel his stare. A shy look is shared between the two of you before the light turns green, his foot easing off the brake and turning his signal on at the next right turn.

The truck cruises down the gravel road leading back to the farm, one that he even visited as a kid with his family. It’s part working farm and part nature reserve, the family that owns it sells their harvests as well as welcomes the public in to enjoy some berry picking, hiking along the trails throughout their land, and maintaining a pretty stellar butterfly garden with well-kept plants sprawling throughout it. It’s one of his and Sarah’s favorite spots during the summer; this year, he reckons it wouldn’t have felt as fun for Sarah or him without you there.

At that thought, warmth oozes into his heart as he parks the truck, cutting the engine and looking over at you.

Have you forgiven him? For pushing you away?

Or is this month just something fun before you leave for good?

Maybe he’s barking up the wrong tree, trying to win you back, but he can’t be damned to care. It feels good to be with you. Better than he’s felt in a long time.

“Joel? You there?” you question, and Sarah’s giggle fully pulls him out of his thoughts, sending both of you a playfully scolding look.

“I’m here, spaced out a second. Let’s go, you two. Before you both start scheming against me.”

The three of you make your way to the small welcome center to buy your baskets to fill with berries and pick up a small map with all of the activities marked on it. Sarah walks between Joel and you, her small hand in his to keep her tethered. He looks down as she reaches for your hand silently, connecting Joel to you in a chain.

Maybe you all look like a family.

The thought itches his skin with a tingle, his free hand gripping the strap of the backpack he brought filled with snacks and water, a rain jacket for Sarah in case of a change in weather. His shoulders roll to loosen the tightness in his back, a sigh relaxing him as you all walk into the air-conditioned building.

“Y’all stay here, I’ll go get the baskets and a map for us.”

“Oh wait, Joel! I think I have some cash to give you for it, hold on,” you keep Sarah’s hand in yours and use the other to rifle through your bag. Joel shakes his head and laughs softly, turning to walk away again.

“No chance, Mariposa. Your money’s no good with me,” he waves you off as he walks away and smiles to himself when he hears Sarah pull you over to the gift shop area.

The three of you have combed through about four rows of strawberry bushes, Sarah about ten feet ahead of you and Joel as she searches for the “best berries” even though Joel isn’t quite sure what that means to her. You and him trail back, walking slowly on either side of the row of harvestable fruit. Joel watches you more than he picks berries to fill the small package in his hand, catching himself and throwing a handful of strawberries in before going back to watching you.

Sunlight kisses your skin, a mild sheen of sweat on your chest. With the slight breeze that passes through occasionally, your sundress rustles at the hem against your thighs. One stronger gust lifts in a couple of inches, exposing more of the soft skin that his fingers twitch to reach out and touch. His tongue wets his lips, wiping his hands on his jeans before he crouches down to pick a few more pieces of ripened fruit. Every so often, your eyes follow Sarah, a smile crossing your face at her excited over finding another “perfect berry” and adding it to her basket.

It’s been a slow conversation between both of you, questions passed back and forth about the last few months and about your move at the end of this month. Joel tells you all about the business growing, getting a glowing recommendation passed around one of the wealthy neighborhoods and getting hired on six jobs in the same two week period. He’s hired more of a crew, and now is at a point where he has to turn down jobs every so often to keep time for Sarah. You tell him you’re nervous to move, but excited to start the new job. He reassures you after you mentioning feeling like an imposter in the field, praising the way you have talked about what you want to do with such care and dedication. He not-so-subtly interrogates you about your living situation — you have two roommates that you haven’t met before but have been emailing with, they both work at the same company you were hired to, neither of them is a guy (his jealousy reared it’s head a bit there), and it is in a relatively safe area. Your answer to his last question was filled with hesitation, and he makes a mental note to look up the neighborhood and it’s crime stats when he gets home later.

When the conversation dies down, he goes back to watching you silently. The care in your eyes when you look at his daughter gives him a feeling that lightens his chest and squeezes around his rib cage, words caught in his throat as he fights to speak to you, but his mind is unsure of what exactly his body is wanting him to say.

You have so much love in your heart.

And he selfishly wants some of it to go to him.

You said that to him — that you loved him. And he said nothing in response. Pretended he was asleep, or didn’t hear it. You never brought it up again.

He really wishes you would.

Do you still feel that way? Or did he give up any chance at that with you when he asked you to forget about him for the year?

Even if you didn’t want anything romantically with him again, he is desperate to receive love from you, even as a friend. The way you love is unabashed, unjaded by insecurity of rejection.

Fuck, did he ruin that for you? Did he make you hold back by ignoring your feelings?

What a dick. Thinking he was doing the right thing, forcing you to make your decisions based solely on yourself and not around him, and here he was, pleading internally for any love from you.

“Daddy?”

His head snaps to the sound of his daughter’s voice, a few feet ahead of him.

“Yeah, mija? What’s going on?”

“C’mere! Posey, too! I wanna show you something,” she crouches down to the crowd, staring into one of the strawberry bushes. Joel looks over at you, nodding his head in her direction.

“We’ve been summoned.”

“Guess so,” you grin at him, taking the hand he offers you to step over the short plants separating the two of you. The touch sends a jolt up his arm, spreading across the back of his neck and down his spine. It’s a cooling sensation under the Texas heat.

The feeling of your skin against his slips away in the next instance, his small window of opportunity to keep your hand in his gone as you lead the two of you toward Sarah’s spot. His daughter points to caterpillar slowly crawling across one of the berries, giggling at the look of it’s fuzzy skin. He reaches his hand out and lets the insect crawl onto his finger, bring it out and closer to Sarah.

Joel laughs as she backs away, hiding behind you. You laugh as Sarah yells to Joel from around you, “Daddy, stop! I don’t want him on me, stop!”

He steps closer, as if he’s going to move around you and Sarah bolts, sending both of you two into a fit of laughter at her dramatics.

“Okay, okay, enough tormenting your daughter. That little caterpillar doesn’t want to be a part of this family squabble,” you scold him with a grin on your face, holding out your hands cupped together to take the fuzzy bug from him.

He can’t ignore the way his heart rate picks up after he hears you say ‘family’. Nearly double time, he calms down his laughter and passes the insect over to your hands, watching you gingerly release it to the same plant it came from.

“It’s not tormenting. It’s exposure therapy; don’t think she realizes that her favorite butterflies in the greenhouse come from caterpillars. I am trying to educate.” He attempts to hold a poker face, faux seriousness laced in his voice.

You stand again and send him a look, shaking your head as you hold back a smirk.

“God, how do you ever get away with a lie? Can see your lip twitching, cowboy. Major tell.”

“Guess then you’ll know if I’m ever lying to you, sweetheart.”

“Hm, might come in handy in the future,” you say off-handedly as you start towards Sarah at the end of the field, leaving Joel to stand there and quickly press a hand to his chest to attempt to slow his racing heart with steady pressure. A fluttering in his stomach is going wild, his limbs feeling like they're filled with helium.

The future.

The future, with him.

Joel’s t-shirt sticks to his upper back in the hot, humid air of the butterfly house. The three of you are walking together, Sarah tethering you together in a chain as she holds both your hand and Joel’s. His daughter skips between you two and giggles excitedly at the butterflies fluttering around her.

An older couple walks past, Joel stepping aside behind Sarah to allow them more room on the path. The man gives him an appreciative nod, his wife smiling widely down at Sarah and then looking between you and him.

“Beautiful little girl you two got. Pretty as a peach.”

You open your mouth to correct her but Joel cuts in, a charmed smile on his face as he gives her a nod in acknowledgment.

“Thank you very much, ma’am. ‘M a lucky man,” he looks over at you, affection radiating from him as you grin sheepishly, nodding and waving to the couple as they continue on.

You say nothing about the way Joel didn’t bother to correct the woman; he was grateful, relishing in that little moment that made his cup feel full to the point of overflowing. Made him feel that constant swish in his stomach, heart swelling with a tinge of pain from how much he’s feeling.

What that feeling is, he can’t quite explain.

Sarah lets go of his hand, tugging you along with her as she moves to catch up to a butterfly she locked her gaze on. His fingers brush against your back as you get pulled ahead, looking over your shoulder with a coy smile. He lingers back, slow-moving steps as he takes in all the greenery, exotic ferns growing happily in the greenhouse. Butterflies zip around his head, eyes following one that flies over your heads, his stare dropping to the two of you kneeling in front of a blue butterfly perched on a large leaf.

From afar, he watches as your hand hovers carefully around the bug, pointing out its features to Sarah who is completely entranced. He smiles to himself, watching as a different butterfly lands on your hand, Sarah giggling as it slowly crawls along your forearm.

You pass the butterfly to her, laughing with her as she giggles more, squealing in excitement when it flutters its wings. The two of you follow the insect with your heads as it flies higher and higher. 

That’s what it feels like when he’s around you. That feeling in his stomach starts with flapping of wings, rising into his chest, lightening his heart and his limbs as the affection he feels for you filters into his brain, darting around and landing on the small quirks you have, how he feels about your smile, how you are with Sarah.

A calmness washes over him as he puts words to the feelings, a physical representation of how he could explain it to you. 

If he ever shares it.

Sarah leans into your side when you two stand again in front of the fountain, and Joel slowly comes up behind you both, hand resting on your lower back with his thumb brushing back and forth. You turn over your shoulder, closer to his chest, and a warm smile stretched across your face with what looks like devotion behind your eyes.

He really wants to kiss you.

Desperately wants to just say fuck it and dive head first into the deep end with you.

Instead, he just smiles, looking between you and Sarah before speaking up.

“My girls ready to keep moving? Lots of other things to see. Heard from one of the workers that there were gonna be some butterflies hatching on the side. Wanna go check it out?”

Sarah eagerly agrees, running ahead as Joel calls after her with a chuckle.

“Alright, mija, hold your horses!”

Your laugh draws his attention, his smile painted across his face and imitating your softer one. Words are unspoken in the look you share, and he watches you take one step before he reaches for your hand, taking it in his and walking with you over to the other side.

Quietly, he says to you, “Eres la mariposa más hermosa para mí. Mi Mariposa. (You are the most beautiful butterfly to me. My butterfly.)”

Joel’s eyes glance at Sarah in the rearview mirror again, smiling to himself when he sees her head rolled back and eyes closed. Completely fast asleep after all of the excitement of the day.

God, his heart is nearly about to burst.

It’s quiet in the truck, the soft hum of the radio filling the air as you relax back into the leather seat. Silence percolates for a few minutes before he clears his throat, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel nervously.

“Thanks for coming, Mariposa. I know it really meant a lot to Sarah to get a day like this with you before you, y’know…” He can’t bring himself to say it. He can’t face the reality that there’s a countdown for how long you are home. How long you are fifty feet away. How long you’re still his neighbor that he’s—

“Move away?” You fill in, and he nods slowly, swallowing hard.

“Yeah…I know she’s gonna miss you.”

“I’m going to miss her, too. So, so much.”

Joel nods, eyes trained on the road as his chest tightens with emotion, tears threatening his eyes that he holds back.

“And I’m gonna miss you, Joel. Like, a fuck ton.”

He laughs, looking over at you, seeing the dampness in the corners of your eyes. His hand leaves the steering wheel, crossing the center console and reaching for yours. You slip your hand together, fingers intertwining.

“Mariposa, I—“ he chokes out, shaking his head and focusing back on the road.

“It’s okay, Joel. We don’t have to…We can save it for goodbyes, yeah? Let’s just enjoy these couple of weeks.”

You squeeze his hand and he nods, slowing to a red light and looking over at you.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for goodbyes,” he sighs, bringing your hand in his up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your skin. You hold your hands in your lap the whole ride home, sharing a sweet kiss with him hidden in his car before saying goodnight and heading back home.

He watches you cross the lawns, slipping inside your front door.

A smile pulls at his lips, an incredulous chuckle slipping out quietly.

Did he really have to fall in love with his neighbor?

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @clingontolife @elizabeth01585 @wandaandellie @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @livinxdeadxgrl @sw33tp1xie @starsandsaints07 @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras @whydontyoysaynodoja @beee-haw @shmaptainshmerica07 @jenna-mcgraw19 @whore-4-pedro @spursgirl14-blog @katifefe @joelmillerswifu @itsgiorgiaz @soph55 @grapejuicesny @wild-hearts-runfree @youcancallmeelle @lisa-ru @jupitren @ziggy-star @miaispunk @oneofutoo @starkovli @thatgeminigirlx @marchai @bunnyskisses @houseofballoonsth @casual-obsessions @pedro-pascal-lvr @bimbodolls-world @burningnerdchild @tuquoquebrute @mrsvedder12 @estelivi28 @helllsent @bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @angie2274 @owod3 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @sunakochansama43 @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine that ex-husband Gojo is baffled by you giving him the cold shoulder upon your return from your romantic getaway with his replacement.

As far as he knew, Satoru didn't bother you or anyone else (except Suguru) about his grief over this trip whatsoever. So why were you upset with him? Why aren't you back happy, well-rested, glowing, possibly with a ring? (Even if that last one would've broken Satoru for good.)

"Hey, did you-- Where'd she go?" Satoru popped his head into a classroom at the Kyoto school where he'd just finished a meeting. As soon as he opened his mouth, you took off out of the room's other door. Sen looks up unimpressed while his friends give each other a dubious look.

"That's her business," he grumbles.

You'd been dodging him for going on two weeks now and while Satoru's always had an unbreakable spirit, he was beginning to think that he should leave you well enough alone. Even after the divorce, you never avoided him like this.

Sen watches his father's face fall and morph into genuine sorrow.

'He doesn't deserve her anyway.' Sen reminds himself over and over again. Satoru mumbles an apology and turns to leave.

Hikari Higuruma and Naoki Zenin both kick him under their desks.

"Come on, man," Nao murmurs.

"Say something!" Hikari hisses.

Both of Sen's friends are the type to respond to "will you help me hide a body?" with "yeah, what snacks should I bring and how many shovels do we need?" With that in mind, their disapproval in this scenario seriously puts the situation into perspective for Sen. That, and he thinks his mother stands to lose the most if he doesn't speak up.

'Dammit,' Sen thinks to himself.

"Dad!" he barks. Satoru must've truly been deep in thought when the sharp crack of his son's voice is enough to make him jump. He turns and Sen leans back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Sen says before thinking of a caveat. "This time." He may not know the details, but Sen at least knows you well enough that whatever happened on your couples' retreat had nothing to do with anything Satoru did.

Satoru looks hopeful. "Then what's--"

"Didn't I just say that's her business?" Sen snaps. "Go ask her if it's so important!" Satoru affords his son a small smile. There's a nonzero chance that he spoke up out of pity, but Satoru is sure the majority of Sen's motivation was for your sake. If there's anything without doubt in this world, it's Sen's love for you.

"Right." Satoru tosses a green packet to his son, who easily catches it in one hand. "Thanks anyway, kiddo!" Good thing he grabbed a pack of chocorooms the last time he was at the train station.

As Satoru leaves, Hikari snatches the pack from Sen.

"Oh, I fuck with these," she says, tearing the bag open.

Nao reaches over. "Hand those over!"

"No way, you're too slow!"

"Those are literally mine."

"Get off!"

Satoru smiles. His son was never as lonely as he was growing up and he never would be as long as those two were around.

Imagine ex-husband Gojo hearing your soft sniffles from inside a random storage closet. He hasn't seen or heard you cry in, what, fifteen years?

He softly taps on the door. "Hi," he murmurs.

The sniffling immediately stops as you contemplate the likelihood of him going away. But you know him like you know yourself and even if you don't let him inside the closet, he'd sit down and wait by the door until you're ready. And if you don't talk to him after that, he'd walk you home. And if you were silent the whole way home, he'd keep his mouth shut until you were ready.

And that just about sums up the kind of person your husband is.

Ex-husband. Fuck.

You reach out and unlock the door, which Satoru takes as his cue to come in and shut it behind him. Normally, he'd cup your face in his hands like you were the most precious thing in the world (you are, as far as he's concerned) and wipe your tears with his thumbs, but he can't do that now because you've been avoiding him for a while now and you may or may not be engaged to someone else.

"This is my own fuck up, Satoru," you tell him with a big sniffle. You try to collect yourself before tears start to fall again. Putting your face in your hands, you tell him, "You don't need to comfort me. This is my own fault."

Satoru takes your hands in his. He doesn't feel a ring and he hates himself for feeling hopeful about that.

"Did he propose?" he asks as neutrally as he can.

You rest your forehead against his chest. "He might as well have. He offered me a promise ring. It was beautiful. I couldn't have designed a better one myself."

Saying it out loud make the guilt even heavier.

Satoru isn't afraid of much, but he is afraid to ask, "And?"

"And." You purse your lips and he deserves eye contact right now, but you don't have the strength. "I couldn't accept it."

Satoru's heart skips a beat and he curses himself for it. But even he's taking aback. The perfect man just served himself to you on a silver platter and you said no?

"Oh," is all he can say.

You reply, "Yeah. Oh."

"Why?" he can't help but ask.

"Satoru, you know why."

"I promise you I don't."

It takes a moment for you to figure out how you want to say this, but you settle for short version.

"It's just." You breathe in his scent, as familiar to you as your own. He smells like coming home after a long trip and while hotels and AirBNBs and temporary homes may be nice and have all the luxuries, nothing beats returning to the space you cultivated for yourself. "Every day I'm not your wife is the worst day of my life. So no, I couldn't promise myself to someone else. And I feel like a bad person because I went on this trip knowing that there was a possibility he'd ask to make us official and I went anyway, and you know what he said to me after I said no?"

"What?" Satoru breathes out. His mind is still reeling from the first thing you said. About how much you hated not being his wife. And now all he could think about is that from the moment the word 'divorce' left your mouth all those years ago, he'd been sleepwalking through life sustained only by the brief moments he got to see you or hear of you or be reminded of you.

You fist your hands in his shirt. "He told me it was ok. That I don't owe him anything and he'll always cherish our time together." You shake your head miserably. "I never deserved him. There's no version of me that ever will, but I just can't be with him."

Satoru doesn't move. He'd let go of your hands when you grabbed his shirt and his hands now hang limply at his sides. He stands so still that it's like he hasn't even heard you.

It may not seem like it in the moment, but your ex-husband always found the right words. From the first, "you look like crap" to the wedding vows he spent months on and ended up going off script anyways, he always knew just what to say.

As the silence stretched on, you grew increasingly uncomfortable. There was never any doubt that Satoru loved you, but now that you've said something you can't take back, has he realized how the eventual heartache wasn't worth it in the end? At some point, has he realized that maybe you were just never meant to be?

"Satoru?" you ask in a small voice.

Rather than using insufficient words for the feeling of joy and relief beyond comprehension, Satoru wordlessly reaches into his shirt and pulls out a chain. On it hangs his wedding ring, yours, and your engagement ring.

In the weeks after the divorce, you tried to give your engagement and wedding ring back to him. He didn't accept them at first, telling you they're yours and always would be, but one day, he came to work and found them sitting on his desk. He exorcised 37 curses that day.

You huff a laugh. "You keep those on you?"

The storage closet you're in is small, smells mildly of bleach and strongly of dirt, and the light fixture hands so low Satoru has to stoop to not bang his head. His elbow knocks over a mop and the bucket its in, which causes a chain reaction of falling cleaning supplies, but he ignores it all to awkwardly fit himself onto one knee.

Satoru unclasps the chain and slides your engagement ring off. Your hands fly to your mouth and to him, you look even more beautiful than you did the first time he asked. Your cheeks aren't as full, you look more world-weary, but your eyes still shine as bright and you'll always be you, and for that, Satoru could never love anyone else the way he loved you. Not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

Satoru slides his blindfold up and it sits in his hair messily. "Maybe you don't think you deserve him, but if I could just be selfish this one time." He has to swallow to keep his voice steady. "I'd ask if you'd be willing to settle for me, who doesn't deserve you. Because I love you and I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."

Your tears fall freely as he takes your left hand in his.

"If that's enough, then I hope you'll accept this as a promise ring. That I'll take it slow and I'll respect your boundaries and you can back out at any time." He winks. "And that I'll get you a new engagement ring when the time comes."

It's like you've just walked through the threshold of your home after ages away. Breathed in your scent. Taken in all the decor you've collected while living there.

"You've spent a really long time hung up on the same girl, Satoru," you laugh wetly.

Satoru grins. "You don't get it. She's a really special girl. No one compares. So, what do you say? I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

And what else are you supposed to say? That's Your Man.

Hello, loves, I just moved from one end of the U.S. to the other and moved away from my parents for work. I lived in the same house in the same bedroom for 24 years, and it's been hard, so I haven't been writing, but here is the most emotional installment I've written of any fic ever. I hope you enjoy.

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[lowkeyren]

BUT YOU BELONG TO ME!

in which — some jealousy headcanons / scenarios for our favourite luofu men!

featuring — dan heng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 1.8k, from req: here!, they're so silly goodbye, march + fu xuan cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!!!

#DAN HENG

look me in the eyes and tell me dan heng wouldn’t be the “i'm jealous, but i don’t wanna show it” (but it’s so PAINFULLY obvious that he’s jealous) type, you can’t.

definitely amusing to watch him play it cool, cus he has nothing else going on in his brain when you’re within 10 metre radius from him. 

honestly it would have to be quite specific situations if he ever gets jealous because he likes to keep you close by his side as often as possible. dating or not, he would have some sort of protective instinct —always making sure you’re secure and cared for. (and yes of course march teases him for it, he never admits it though.)

dan heng tries to focus on the book in his hands, but his mind refuses to make any sense of the words on the page —at least not when you’re standing so close to boothill. (too close for his liking anyway)

the cyborg sits at the opposite end of the couch where dan heng was, while you deftly adjust a compartment of his, engaging in small talk as he makes lighthearted jokes with you. dan heng hears your laughter ring out; the laughter that he adores so dearly, the laughter that never fails to warm his chest, and the laughter he wishes he was the reason for instead.

his eyes flicker up from the page to sneak a glance at you, the way your hands glide over boothill's body churns an ugly feeling, twisting in his chest. he shifts in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the unease remains.

his focus on you is suddenly shattered by a loud voice that belongs to no other than march, "dan heng, if you grip that book any harder, you might tear off a page." she stands in front of him, hands on her waist. 

“the way i am holding my book is perfectly fine, now if you will, i must get back to re—”

“oh c’mon! we all know your ass is not actually reading that book!” he raises an eyebrow, and march only rolls her eyes in response. “it’s literally upside-down.” she teases, unable to hold back a chuckle. 

dan heng glances down at the book in his hands, finally noticing the upside-down text, to which he quickly closes the book and puts it down. "maybe i was just testing your observational skills.”

march shakes her head, "yeah right… just admit you’re too busy staring at them!”

“no i’m n—” he begins to protest but is interrupted when you suddenly appear in front of him. “staring at who?” you tilt your head curiously, and he can only hope that you don’t hear the loud thumping of his heart. 

march giggles as she runs off to who-knows-where, he silently curses her for leaving him in this predicament. he manages to regain his composure, though his cheeks retain a faint pink hue. “ahem, anyway…” he trails off when you sit down next to him, your thighs brushing against each other.

alright you can’t keep doing this to him. he’s not a cyborg but it certainly seems like he’s malfunctioning at that moment. (though he doesn't mind if you have to “repair” him next; he considers it far preferable to having your hands on boothill anyway.)

#BLADE

this guy REEKS of jealousy. 

he gets jealous over anything —saying “good night!” to an acquaintance? well unfortunately, i don’t think they’re going to be having a very good night; a friendly smile from a passerby? the sudden chill in the air accompanied by his sharp glare is enough to make them rethink their life decisions. 

and the worst part? he knows it. he's aware of how irrational his jealousy can be, but that doesn't stop the surge of possessiveness that washes over him.

(deep down, he just wants to feel secure in your attention and affection, but it’s true that his jealousy sometimes gets the better of him.) 

blade’s “things to get rid of” list exponentially grows with each passing day, ranging from general items he sees no use of, to addresses of people who have wronged you in the past. 

but there’s one item on the list that stands out from the rest, the one item he can’t seem to bring himself to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

37. “blade plushie”

okay but what kind of website is “stellaron hunters fan merch for sell.com” anyway? since when do they have a fanbase, and why did you have to buy a plushie of him, of all things? 

he shoots daggers at the plushie sitting on your bed, on his side of your bed. while he can't always be by your side, surely there's no need for an inferior replacement?

blade sits down beside you, discreetly moving the plushie out of the way. just as you turn to reach for it, he wraps his arm around you and snuggles up to your side; you immediately pause at his affectionate gesture; his hair brushes against your neck as he buries his face into it.

“blade.. what are you doing?” you turn your attention to him, much to his delight. 

“why not spend more time with the real deal instead of… that.” he tightens his grip around you, at this point he isn’t even trying to hide his jealousy (over a plushie lmao) anymore. 

"you mean mr. edgelord...?" you barely manage to stifle your laughter as blade shoots up beside you. doesn’t hurt to tease him for a bit, right?

“what did you say… “edgelord”?” he scoffs, his face twisting into a scowl. he can’t believe you gave that thing a nickname, how ridiculous. he makes a mental note to get rid of it asap. 

“yeah, what about it? jealous that he’s better than you?” you smirk, leaning in close to his face. perhaps you’re enjoying his expression of pure bitterness a little too much, who knew such a handsome face could look so hilariously indignant? 

his eyes twinkle in amusement, before closing in the distance. “hah, never.” his tone tinged with a touch of possessiveness that he can't quite hide.

“really? you seem like you’re about to kill it.” you wrap your arms around his neck, his expression softens for just a split second, but you’re able to catch it anyway. “would you please spare mr. edgelord if i give you a kiss?”

he doesn’t respond with words; he presses his lips against yours, gently cradling the back of your head. (you quickly turn mr. edgelord to face the wall before blade pulls you away)

maybe he’ll spare “it” for another day or so, just don’t let him catch you hugging “it” in your sleep again, alas you want “it” to suffer the same fate as the others on his list.

#JING YUAN

hmm our beloved general… well he trusts you, and believes that you won’t do anything rash; but on the other hand there are just some things that neither of you can control, whether it’s letters sent in to ask for his hand in marriage or admires trying to sweep you off your feet (before he can). 

though not many people would approach you once your relationship goes public, given that he’s the general and all. but imagine him before the two of you became official, clinging to you to fend off your admirers, and the expression on their faces when you shake your head, denying that you’re dating at all. 

“as for the situation at cloudford— general, are you even listening?” fu xuan furrows her brows, and crosses her arms, clearly annoyed. “ah my apologies lady fu, please keep going.” jing yuan only flashes a half-hearted smile at her before glancing over to your direction again.

you feel a pair of eyes boring into your back, undoubtedly jing yuan’s; but you pay it no mind, choosing to focus on the discussion at hand. his grip on his teacup tightens when he sees the foxian talking to you leans closer to catch your words. fu xuan raises an eyebrow in concern, unaware but still sensing the rising tension; his eyes visibly twitch the moment their hand brushes against yours.

“lady fu, let’s reschedule our meeting for another time. i believe i have some… important matters to attend to.” jing yuan rises up from his seat before fu xuan can reply, swiftly making his way towards you.

you’re startled by the sudden feeling of jing yuan’s arms around you, his chest pressing against your back, as he places his chin against your head. “sorry to interrupt, what’re you two discussing about?” the foxian is taken aback by the general's sudden appearance, and especially by your current position with him. 

“n-nothing general!” the foxian seems to hesitate before continuing, “if it isn’t rude to ask, are the two of you…in a relationship?” jing yuan’s face lights up with his usual lazy smile, but this time it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

your eyes widen in surprise as he presses his lips against your nape, you shiver at his touch, a rush of warmth spreads across your cheeks. you should deny it, to say that you're not in a relationship at all, but you can't bring yourself to. instead, you divert your gaze from the foxian, hoping to spare yourself any further embarrassment.

“go on, tell them.” he whispers lowly so that only you can hear him. this bastard, you’re going to give him a stern talking to after this..! “sorry to cut this short, please excuse us.” you give a polite nod before pulling the general away.

two days later, as you’re walking along the streets of central starskiff haven, you come across a group of people gathered around a stall. curious, you head over to check out what’s happening. —you’re absolutely mortified to discover stacks of articles detailing recent events of you and jing yuan.

“breaking news! the general is secretly married?!” / “the truth behind general jing yuan’s relationship status” / “rumours confirmed: a detailed guide to the general of luofu’s relationship saga”

well at least the pictures of you and jing yuan got your good side… and your bad side, and your “i definitely did not sign up for this” side. and oh look, there’s one of you dragging jing yuan by his ponytail too, how wonderful, you’re definitely purchasing that one. 

but yeah no, you’re not beating the allegations after this. 

masterlist

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ needy for jay }

pairing: bf! jay x needy! shy! f. reader

contents: ovulation mention, fingering, kissing, pet names, p in v, soft dom jay, reader a simp lowk, finger sucking, cum eating, riding, nipple play

synopsis: reader is horny af during ovulation week but is too shy to directly ask jay for help

w.c. 1.7k

ovulation week is a bitch. literally every little thing your boyfriend did was turning you on beyond belief. the way his sleeves were rolled up while he was cooking dinner, showcasing his forearms, the veins trailing down to his pretty hands. his long, slender fingers precisely cutting up vegetables. your eyes trailed down every inch of his profile, taking in every aspect of your gorgeous boyfriend as you watched him from the dinner table. jay pretended not to notice your stares, but he could feel your eyes on him. he’s felt them on him all week but hasn’t said anything, hoping you’d come to him first.

once dinner was ready and jay brought the plates to the table, you couldn’t help but trail your eyes down his arms, to his hands, and to his fingers again. wishing they were inside you. you press your legs together under the table as you mutter a quick thank you to jay. “you’re welcome, baby,” he says as he takes his seat across from you at the table. you keep your eyes on him, trailing down to his chest, where he’s got a couple of his buttons undone, showing a small amount of skin. he was driving you crazy. you bring your eyes back up, and he’s already looking at you, giving you a small smile, a blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you look down at your food. “are you feeling okay, my love? you’ve been awfully quiet this evening.” jay says, snapping you out of the trance you’ve been in since he sat in front of you. “y-yeah, i’m okay! don’t worry,” you smile at him. he nods, accepting your answer for the time being.

you both continue to eat your food, and you offer to do the dishes since jay did the cooking. “you’re the best, baby; i’ll go find something for us to watch on TV,” he says while placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. you close your eyes at the feeling, trying to keep your composure as you smile up at him. he heads into the living room, settling on the couch and grabbing the remote to find something to watch. you try to clear your mind of these thoughts you’ve been having while you wash the dishes, almost feeling successfully distracted until you look over to see how jay was sitting on the couch. he sat with his lap open and inviting, manspreading, with his arms crossed over his chest. at any other time, this was completely normal; you’d seen him sit like this many times before. but this time was different. you watched him from in front of the sink, lip tucked between your teeth as you trailed your eyes down to his lap. you tear your head away and focus on finishing the dishes. dirty thoughts about your boyfriend running through your mind still.

you finally finish up the dishes and dry your hands. you begin to make your way into the living room. wetness pooling between your legs as you watch your boyfriend intently. he turns his head to meet your eyes as you make your way over; he smiles at you, and that’s it. you can’t take it anymore. once you make it to the couch, you climb into his lap, head resting on his chest as you pout slightly. his arms wrap around you, holding you close. you sigh slightly. “what’s the matter, baby?” jay asks. and he already knows what’s wrong; he just wants to hear you say it. jays hands travel up to pick your head up of his chest, making your eyes meet his. your eyes are big and glossed over, sending pangs right to his chest . “talk to me, baby, what’s bothering you?” he asks again as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. you really don’t want to say it; you’re embarrassed that you’ve been thinking such dirty thoughts about your boyfriend. “don’t make me say it, please,” you say back to him, your voice shaking slightly as the ache between your thighs becomes stronger. “do you need me, baby?” he finally asks, and you nod shyly, heat filling up your cheeks. “where do you need me?” he cocks his head to the side, one of his hands traveling down to come in between you two. his hand lands on your clothed heat, you gasp slightly. “here?” he says, and you nod, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“mmm, my needy baby, why didn’t you just say so?” he chuckles lightly. “what do you need from me? you want my fingers my mouth, my cock?” he asks. you stare at him with big doe eyes before nervously answering, “f-fingers, please." he smirks at you. “so polite, my good girl,” he coos. words sending shockwaves straight to your core. he brings his hands to the waistband of your shorts, beginning to pull them down. you lean up slightly, making it easier for him to get them off. your underwear comes next, then your shirt, and lastly your bra, until you’re completely bare on his lap. he takes in the sight of you, completely on display for him, practically begging for him to do something. his cock aches at the sight. he kisses your lips, then your cheek, and trails kisses all the way down your neck and to your chest. he gives attention to both of your nipples, licking and sucking slightly, making you moan at the sensation.

he trails a hand back down to your heat, and begins collecting your wetness on his fingers. you shudder at the feeling, letting a whine fall from your lips. “so sensitive already, baby,” jay comments. you roll your head back as jay begins to move his fingers at a faster pace, making sure to circle around your clit more often than not. you’re a moaning mess already, climax building up quicker since you were so needy. he removes his fingers from your clit, bringing them down to circle your dripping hole. he inserts a finger, a loud moan escaping your mouth. he moves his finger slowly at first, then adds in another as he picks up the pace. your head is cloudy as he fucks you with his fingers, your orgasm approaching, jay realizes this when you start clenching around his fingers and your breathing becomes more ragged. he brings his thumb to your clit, paying it attention while his fingers are still buried inside you. this sends you over the edge; your hips bucks, your legs shake, and a string of lewd moans falls from your lips. jay helps you ride your orgasm before removing his fingers and bringing them up to his lips. he takes his fingers in his mouth, tasting your juices, before removing them with a pop. “so sweet, my pretty girl,” he coos and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“can i fuck you now? hm?"  he asks, and you nod. “yes, please, jay.” he smiles triumphantly before moving you off his lap to undress himself. you watch every move he makes, lip between your teeth, as you admire your boyfriend's body in front of you. he sits back down, wasting no time to pull you back onto his lap. you feel his length press against your core, causing both of you to moan. his cock is pressed perfectly between your folds, and you start to move back and forth on his cock, wetting it with your juices, and moaning at the feeling. jay winces slightly, “fuck baby, if you keep going like that, i’m gonna cum,” he rolls his head back, and you take the opportunity to place a few kisses on his neck. “someone’s gotten bold now, huh?” he chuckles, and you smile at him, nodding bashfully. “please give it to me, jay” you say, looking so prettily at him. how could he say no?

he lifted up your hips enough to line himself up with your entrance, and you whined at the feeling of his tip pressing against your hole. he slowly guides you down on his cock, the both of you moaning at the feeling. “fuck you’re so tight,” he winces, as he stills himself inside you, letting you get used to the stretch. “so big, jay” you moan, “please move.” he immediately grabs your hips and starts fucking you onto his cock. you cry out at how deep he’s reaching. your hands fly to his shoulders to steady yourself. his fingertips holding your hips so tight you’re sure it’ll leave bruises. his cock is continuously hitting that spongey spot inside, making you cry out his name over and over again.

you feel your stomach start to tighten; you’re getting so close to cumming, and jay can tell. he reaches down in between you and starts rubbing circles on your clit, the stimulation sending you into overdrive as you cum all over his cock, legs shaking and clenching around him. jays thrusts become sloppy as he comes undone, spilling his seed inside you. he pulls out completely to see his cum seeping out of you, he’s got a proud look on his face as he caresses your cheek. “look at the mess we made, baby, so pretty.” he says, your breathing is still ragged from your high, but you lean against him, wrapping your arms around his neck. he caresses the back of your head with his hand, his other arm wrapped snugly around your waist. “you tired, baby? you did so well for me.” he coos; he feels you nod against his chest, too tired to speak.

he sits up from the couch, lifting you with him. you automatically wrap your legs around his waist as you hold on close to him. he brings you into your shared bedroom and then into the bathroom, and sets you down on the counter. you whine when he lets go of you to walk towards the bathtub. “one second, pretty, i’ll be right back,” he says softly. he turns on the bathtub, making sure the water is warm before letting it fill. he comes back over to you while the tub fills, using his hands to massage your legs, and then your back lightly. once the tub is full he picks you back up and places you in the tub. he then climbs in behind you, you sitting in between his legs with your back against his chest. he takes his time cleaning you up, and after he’s done, you turn around and do the same for him.

“i love you, my jay,” you say sweetly.

“i love you too, baby.”

.

.

.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

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