#please please please send me an ask i need to actually work on my writing for once

[untildawnss]

until dawn characters overhearing their partner say something positive about them/their relationship

okiedokie [cracks knuckles] i had a shower to wash away the sad and now i'm ready to write the good - this took a good while because i was watching a show while writing lol

this is going to be fluff, i'll find out if anything else happens while writing this. very minor angsty and nsfw mentions.

ashley

"i don't think i've ever loved anyone as much as i love ashley. i still get butterflies when i look at her."

you tossed your phone towards ashley so she could order pizza while you were busy writing an assignment on your laptop. when she unlocked it, the chat with your best friend was still open, your last text the one about ashley. "i didn't know you were a big ol' sap." ashley shifted on the couch and leaned her head against your shoulder. "huh?" you stopped typing and furrowed your brow. "what are you talking about?" - "oh, just that text about me you sent earlier." she was already scrolling through the menu, looking for your favourite pizza. "were you snooping?" - "i didn't have to. you never close your apps." you nodded your head. it was true, you never did. "i get butterflies, too. ever since we met. maybe we're soulmates." she leaned in to kiss you.

beth

"hannah, oh my god, i'm so happy to see you. did you know that i love beth soooooo much? she's the best. i want to marry her. do you think she would want to marry me?"

beth tried to interrupt your drunken ramblings. her twin sister was on the couch next to you, snoring, and you had woken up while she was trying to clear the empty pizza boxes from the coffee table. you had immediately pulled her into a tight hug and happily babbled on about beth for a minute until you fell asleep again. beth carefully removed herself from your arms and decided that she wasn't really in the mood to clean up after you and hannah, you were perfectly capable of doing that yourself in the morning. and she was only a little offended that you had mistaken her for her sister. it was kind of fun to know how you talked about her when you thought she wasn't there.

chris

"josh, chris just texted me 'can we talk?' and i am freaking out. is he breaking up with me? please tell me he's not breaking up with me. he's honestly the best boyfriend i've ever had and i-"

josh groaned. "i told him not to text you that. chris, what's wrong with you?" you heard some crinkling, the muffled sounds of josh and chris whispering and then what sounded like a slap before josh let you know that he was handing the phone over to chris now. "hey, sorry about that. josh's hand and the back of my head just had a meet and greet." - "good for you? what the fuck was that text about, chris?" more whispering. "chris?" - "yeah, sorry. so remember how you just said that i'm the best boyfriend ever?" you sighed. "looking back, i probably wouldn't have said it if i had known you were listening." chris cleared his throat. "well, actually, i was thinking that you're the best partner i've ever had and i wanted to ask you to move in with me and so i decided to send you a text to ask you to talk about it." - "can you actually put josh back on for a second?" whispering again, until you heard josh's voice. "what's up?" - "can you tell chris that i love him and will move in with him but that he seriously needs to work on the way he brings up serious topics?"

emily

"you might not like her but i love her. she's the best thing that ever happened to me and if you just bothered to get to know her, you'd know that she's actually smart and funny and great. she actually shows up for me, do you?"

emily knew that your family hated her. they saw her as a stuck-up mean girl with expensive tastes and were worried that she was just using you until someone better came along. she hated that her relationship with you was causing all these fights with your family because they thought they knew better. this was the worst fight you'd ever had with them and she'd never heard you yell like that. "no, i'm done talking. don't bother calling again until you accept that i'm an adult and make my own decisions." emily heard you swearing before you knocked on the bedroom door and walked in. you were half-dressed, the original plan had been to go out for dinner. emily was still sitting in front of her vanity, absent-mindedly twirling a blending brush between her fingers. your phone buzzed again. "i swear to god," you muttered through clenched teeth as you declined the call. "rain check?" emily asked, already putting away the brush and looking for her make up wipes. "please." she looked at you through the mirror. "i'm sorry for asking but i think i need help getting out of this dress." - "oh, so you're flirting with me? right now?" you couldn't help but smile. "if you want me to. or you could just tell me how smart and funny and great i am while i order dinner." - "i can do that."

hannah

"dear hannah, your glasses are very cute and look really good on you. you have a really pretty face and i have a crush on you."

"dear hannah, do you want to go out with me?"

"dear hannah, you were really good as juliet in the senior year play."

"oh my god, what's this?" hannah picked up the loose papers that had slid all over the wooden floor of the living room in your new apartment. "what? oh, oh no. i thought i'd thrown those away. they're so old." - "i didn't know you had a crush on me back in high school. wow, we really could have gotten together years ago." you were on your hands and knees, trying to grab the old, unfinished love letters you had never had the courage to slip into hannah's locker or bag. "what? you liked me in high school?" - "who did you think sent you all those valentines? i didn't know you liked my glasses back then." before long both of you were on the floor, reminiscing about all the near confessions you had accidentally dodged.

jess

"we'd love to go out for drinks with you guys, but i have plans with my super hot girlfriend and i wouldn't miss it for the world and she has plans with me. oops, putting our phones on do not disturb now."

you sent the text to the group chat and turned to jess. the two of you were on the couch, wearing sweatpants and facemasks. numerous candles were illuminating the living room and there was a romcom playing on the TV. "super hot girlfriend, is that right?" jess was smiling, the hydrating sheet mask wrinkling and folding around her mouth. "oh, very." you were sipping wine through a straw. "and you'd rather be at home doing skincare and watching a movie with me?" - "are you kidding me? i get to have a few drinks, hang out with my favourite person in the world AND wake up with great skin. what more could a person want?" - "you're not so bad yourself."

josh

"ugh, i know, right? he's smart, he's hot, he's kinda weird but in that cute and quirky way and when i look at him, i want to start writing poems or love songs. it's actually disgusting how perfect i think he is."

josh and you were at a bar with a group of friends and while josh had gone to get more drinks and a few others were playing pool, one of them had taken the opportunity to tease you about the way the two of you adored each other. neither of you didn't realise that josh was already on his way back to the table and heard every word you said. he stopped for a few seconds to compose himself, thinking that you'd probably be embarrassed if you knew that he heard you talking about him. the rest of the night, josh was in a, to you, inexplicably good mood but when you asked what had him smiling like that he said that he was just having fun. you narrowed your eyes and looked at him, suspiciously. "what did you do?" - "nothing, i swear." a few hours later you were on your way home, your hand in josh's while he was swinging them back and forth. "what is up with you today? i could pass out right here and now. how are you not tired?" josh's smile was as wide as ever. "it's nothing, really. i'm just happy i met you."

matt

"i wouldn't dream of breaking uncle matt's heart. pinkie promise. when we get married you can be flower girls."

matt's nieces had begged you to play tea party with them. they were extraordinarily good at offering you tea while giving you the third degree. yes, i love your uncle matt a lot. yes, i hope your uncle matt loves me, too. yes, we live together. no, i won't break up with uncle matt. you thought meeting matt's parents for the first time would be intimidating. his nieces were almost terrifying. finally, matt came to save you when they started asking about babies. you waved goodbye to the girls. "so it's when, not if we get married?" you looked at matt and your heart skipped a beat, he was smiling warmly. "well, i mean, i guess-" you sputtered. "wait, you were listening and you let them interrogate me?" - "oh, do you want to go back and tell them how many kids we're gonna have?"

mike

"yes, i know he's handsome. like absolute dreamboat, straight out of a disney movie handsome."

"oh, you better watch your mouth, that's my boyfriend you're talking about."

"oh no, he's an only child. but i think he has cousins. doubt he left any hot for the rest of them, though."

you hadn't heard mike come home and he was trying really hard to respect your privacy but the bedroom door was ajar and you were always louder when you were talking on the phone, especially when talking to your best friend whom he was due to meet this upcoming weekend. and he couldn't deny it, he was curious what you had to say about him. mike pushed the bedroom door open slowly, you had your back to him and were scrolling on your phone with your earphones in. "busy?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe and grinning widely when you jumped and almost tumbled off the bed. "what the fuck, mike? when did you get here?" you said a quick goodbye to your friend and put your phone on the bedside table. "oh, not that long ago." he crossed his arms, still grinning at you. "but go on, what were you saying about me?" mike inched towards the bed, his face now scrunched up in mock-confusion. "something about me being super hot, i think." - "i never said super hot." he put the back of his hand against his forehead and closed his eyes, feigning hurt this time. "you wound me." then, before you knew it, he was straddling you, his lips barely an inch from yours as he was running his hands down your sides, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. "guess i'll have to change your mind, then."

sam

"my girlfriend just opened her own gallery and i'm super proud of her. do you have anything on the menu that's fancy and says 'i love you so much, you're gonna do great' and, most importantly, is also vegan? is champagne vegan? do you have vegan champagne?"

sam heard you whispering to the hostess as she walked through the doors behind you. so that's why you wanted her to park the car. she smiled at the hostess and rolled her eyes slightly, affectionately, pointed and you and then at herself while mouthing i'm the girlfriend. the hostess nodded and asked you to wait just a few more minutes, your table was almost ready. "you know i'm just a cog in the machine and the gallery isn't actually my own, right?" sam had sauntered over and was looking at you with one eyebrow raised in amusement. "you're still an active partner and the face of the gallery. so why bother explaining?" - "oh, i'm not complaining. just wondering if you hit your head. but now i don't feel bad about letting you wine and dine me."

[kanerallels]

Yeah it's time for me to use this again I'm invested in too many things at once. So!

The Anti Vader Squad

The Sabezra Aladdin Au

The Steve Miller Au part 4

Kanereoke

Kyvis

"kick-in-the-pants" writer's game!

Rules:

Reblog this post and put the names/working titles of your wips in either the tags or your reblog. (You may add a brief bio/ship name/any other info if desired)

Your followers can send you the name of one of the wips in an ask, and are welcomed and encouraged to send multiple.

For each wip title you recieve, work for a five minute sprint on writing that wip!

Respond to their ask with one of your favorite lines you wrote during that sprint!

(to encourage community spirit, it is suggested to send an ask to the person you reblogged it from, and whoever reblogs it from you)

[screampied]

hey i LOVE your work and ykk ou ur toji is just like… UGHHHH

could you do a mean toji who just mocks the reader and makes fun of her while she gets off on him (like idk his thighs or whatever) or when he fucks her? i feel like you would write this very well;)

❤︎ ໋𓈒 toji mocking your moans while you ride him

warnings. fem! reader, thigh riding & cowgirl, dirty talk, praise, ōrgasm denial, breath play, spanking. + thank you sm !! mdni

“we’re quite handsy today, huh,” he’d mumble once his eyes flicker down towards your nude body—you suck in a single breath as he’s got you just barely straddling his lap. with an unsatisfied pout, you’re just here moving up and down against his beefy thigh—oh so desperately wishing that you were riding him instead of his stupid, stupid leg. toji’s amusement only fuels the more you frown and scowl, pawing your hands up his perfectly chiseled thighs before he snickers. “what’s the issue? my thigh not enough to satisfy the pretty girl?”

“no..” you immediately say, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. he could hear the irritation linger on your tone before you bury your face into his neck . . a good waft of his loud cologne scent infiltrating inside your nostrils.

two rugged hands drag down your back, sending you multiple shivers from his touch before he replies in a hoarse tone. “well, that’s too damn bad,” and his chortling laugh only makes you throb from how close it’s against your ear—fuck. “actually, y’know what. i feel like bein’ nice today, baby. you want more than my thigh? how ‘bout ya jus’ ask me nicely.”

“but—”

“but—nothin’ girl, now speak,” toji utters, feeling your grinding against his thigh—grabbing your chin softly before making you stare him right in the eyes. he slyly grins, a thumb tracing down your dampened lip. “i’ll wait.. talk to me nice, girl.”

your eyes avert towards his dick, just laying there on his stomach—so ridiculously lengthy, a mere tannish color coats it - including his leaky tip that stares right back at you.

it looks so good, you wanted him inside so bad that it hurts—he could tell too, you found it hard to stay still as you made a cute attempt at rutting against him once more.

“i— i want you, ‘toji,” you claw at his body with doe lit eyes, his swollen base—so full of unused seed that you desperately yearned for it to be inside of you, filling up your pretty little womb. “want you s'bad.”

“oh i know you do, babygirl,” he rasps, he can’t help but notice the sudden boner that makes his jaw tighten. coarse big hands grip both of your hips before he gawks at you with that same tantalizingly smug grin. “can’t just spoil ya all the time though, talk more for me. i like listenin’ to that needy voice.”

ugh, you start to grow impatient and he only laughs at your sheer annoyed expense.

“please,” you murmur out in a whiney tone, slowly wrapping your clammy fingers around his length. he doesn’t stop you, he lets you touch all over him, aligning yourself with the fat weight of his cock that was just aching to be buried within you. “i wanna ride you so bad, ‘toj. need it, need your cum.”

“girl you don’t need . . . shit,” he swallows, a cold sweat breaking onto him.

you’re fucking hot—especially whenever you just take what you want, toji could have creamed his pants at just your voice and your voice alone.

you had him so hard, he sucks his teeth in total exasperation before he feels you slowly start to sink him down. “fuck, y’er such a little brat,” he mutters, feeling the warmth of your walls swallow him whole. it was a moist feeling, you were already a bit soaked—purely from riding his thigh for how many minutes, you weren’t even sure anymore, nor did you even relatively care. “ride me then, do y’er fuckin’ worst then.”

“shut up and i will.” you snap back.

he rolls his eyes, feeling your ass thrash against his lap and it makes him squeeze the plush mounds of your rear.

“eh, i really don’t like that mouth,” and he spanks you harder, this time it stings and you moan—he’s so thick that your stomach starts to seize once you feel him gradually reach into the depths of your pussy. “when you ride me, there shouldn’t be any back talk, girl,” and he grabs your chin for the nth time, pressing a sweltering wet kiss right onto your glossed lips. “. . . are we clear or do i gotta let this pussy know what goes ‘round here.”

…so cocky,

you gnaw at your lip—fighting back the urge to roll your own eyes backwards before you thrust against him harder.

it’s relentless, the brutal skin-to-skin contact makes a raw moan harshly yank from the back of your throat as your hands continue to claw on his chest.

his bare chest that was already glistening with droplets of sweat. he was so toned, his pecs—his nipples that were swollen and a sheeny pink color, you even attempt to lean in to lap your tongue against his nipple but he lightly shoves you back.

“leave those alone, slut,” and you conceal back a laugh—by 'those', he was most likely referring to his tits broad pecs. “ride me, ‘n hurry up. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

toji never knew how to simply shut the fuck up, such a talkative man—whispering filthy sweet nothings into your ear as you’re taking every thick inch of his cock. he stretches you out so good that you’re already whimpering, eyes goggling profusely at the way his angry tip just thwacks and thwacks against your g-spot. “s-shiiit, toji,” you’d curse out in a sharp breath, continuing to drag your hips further against him at such a pace.

in and out, in and out, you’re rotating your waist a bit before he grunts lowly, head throwing back and he smacks your ass yet again, and again, and again. “fuck yeah, ride me jus’ like that. such a good girl, takin’ this dick like the good girl you are, mhm.”

“t—tojiiiii,” you’d mewl out right against the flapping shell of his ear. your cunt felt so stuffed, a straining exhale snatches from your lungs before you whimper once his base kisses against your ass. his base was so full, you only imagined how much build up cum was stored in there just for you.

“t—tojiiiiiii,” he mimics your tone as you mash against him, the sofa he sits on sinking down a bit from both weights combined. you pout once he starts mocking you, a gruff laugh dies from his throat before he squeezes your right ass cheek. “feels good, yeah? keep moanin’ for me like that.”

“shut up, s-shut uppp,” you moan, burying your face into his neck. doing so, you get a concise whiff of his cheap cologne and it smells so good. you’re a mess, spasming as your stomach continues to seize before he grabs both of your hips so that you could slam down onto him even harder. “close, toji. ‘m really close, fuck.”

he groans, feeling the hefty weight of his balls smack against your skin each time you move up, then down, then up . . . all over again. toji’s a big guy, it was no secret. the way your pussy constricts around his length, paving way for more movement . . . simply hypnotizing.

“yeahhh,” he snarls, strong hands still attached to your ass. green irises of his dilate, his eyes turn hooded for a second as he glances back at you. an entire mess, tongue all lolled out and you’re feeling it steadily about to approach. “look so fuckin’ dumb,” he points out with a subtle head shake, grabbing your chin again. “my dumb baby,” he corrects himself and your pout softens.

he’s so fucking big— you’ll point this out a million times if you have to, the stretch was so immaculate.

toji groans, pressing another saturated kiss onto your lips and you taste a brief mixture of his saliva and alcohol—presumably rum, you lean into his touch before feeling his big hands snake near your neglected tits. his growing stubble tickles against your face as you quicken your pace. so good, so fucking good.

all you can think about is that you’re getting off, you’re about to finish— gush out so much, you feel a familiar pit in your stomach arise. he feels you starting to shake and twitch, it’s cute.

“. . easy, now,” he teases, finding it adorable how whenever your orgasm approaches—you’d be an entire mess, pussy convulsing all on his cock as if it was the first time you ever took him. “oh my just look at that pout,” he points out, reaching towards your chin before bringing you all up close towards his face. not to mention, toji’s so pretty up close—ten times more intimidating with his low hazy eyes and wide sleazy smile. “such a baby. want me to talk ya through it?”

“p—please,” you whine, barely even giving him a chance to finish his seductive sentence.

with a playful eyebrow furrow, he makes you grind against him even harder. the sofa creaks and you squeak out a whimper, feeling yourself about to make such a mess. “please, please,” he copies your tone again, and it’s so embarrassing. toji purposely pitches his tone to sound like you and he snickers at the growing glare on your face. “please what, babygirl?”

with an irritated grumble, your flimsy arms still thrown over him, you moan out a desperate, “please let me c-cum. toji, i want it s’bad, pleaseplease let me be a messy girl.”

“. . . ahhhh,” he parts his lips, and he’s oh so dramatic, flickering his eyes towards the ceiling as if he’s deep in thought. “let me think about it.”

you didn’t know how much you could take, you’re sopping wet and his raspy deep voice that was right up against your earlobe doesn’t make things any better.

jagged breaths rip out from your esophagus as your shaky limbs could barely keep themselves up. he cackles, feeling your soft quavering lips kiss near his face, brushing against the scar that runs near the right lower part of his lip. it twitches as a response from your touch, how cute..

“hurry the fuck up then, lay it all on me,” he finally grunts, witnessing the way your dilated irises light up at his sudden permission— you whimper out, finally coming undone and it’s like a rough wave that crashes over you. the calm before the storm, once it comes, you’re left pulsating with his thick dick still buried inside of your cunt. you hug him tight with your walls like a vice, never wanting to let go. “you make such the silliest noises, girl.”

“s— shut up,” you moan, the under parts of your thighs aching heavily as you’re still in the midst of your teeth-shattering release. it feels so good, your maw drops and the contracts inside of your pussy only duplicates. it’s mouth watering, you grind against him just slightly and he spanks your ass, head going back. “i- i love you, toji.”

“i love me too,” he jibes with a cocky grin, sweat beads racing down the sides of his brow. you shoot him a glare and he rolls his eyes for the nth time. “. . kidding,” and he plants a kiss near your forehead, rough hand still attached to your right ass cheek like velcro. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

you’re still panting, but he’s clearly not done talking— it’s toji, figures.

“now bend the fuck over,” he grouses, eyes gazing towards your ass— a tongue goes against his lips like he was preparing for an appetizing meal. “i’m not finished. we gotta work on that lazy arch of yours, girl.”

[taylor-titmouse]

hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator

i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.

this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.

i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:

DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE

hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.

and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.

you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.

okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.

YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS

good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.

porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!

as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.

while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!

to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!

YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY

hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.

god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!

this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).

okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!

also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.

abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.

I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT

kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.

please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.

as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.

[c0ffeejelly1]

When you call him your husband

Multiple character headcannons

Authors note: IM SORRYYYY I GOT LAZYYY but it’s only bc I’m writing a smutty fic rn which will be out when I decide for it to be out. So take these crumbs and be thankful.

Warnings: None. Just infatuated boys ig…

It was your typical Sunday movie night, a comforting routine before the reality of work awaited you both the next day.

You and your boyfriend had a tradition of keeping the night lively, so why not indulge in your favorite takeout?

“Hey babe? Where should we order from?” you called out from your cozy spot on the couch.

He peeked out from the cabinet, taking a moment to think before he replied,

“I’m easy; you know what I like.” He walked over, setting down two wine glasses.

“You wanna drink wine? It better not have alcohol, I’ve got work tomorrow y’know?”

He rolled his eyes playfully as he settled next to you.

“I’m not that childish…”

“Right, right. Anyway, quiet now; I’m ordering Chinese.”

He waited patiently, the sound of your phone ringing filling the space as he focused on pouring wine for both of you.

“Oh, and can I get the…”

His thoughts drifted until you gently poked him, signaling for his order. He quickly chimed in, and you continued,

“Ah..yeah, Sorry about that. My husband would like the special fried rice, no peas, please. That’s it, thank you! Bye!”

The type to not even realise it

You wore that familiar mischievous grin, the one that always hinted at your scheming, but when you glanced at your boyfriend, he seemed completely unfazed.

Instead, he was busy scrolling through movie options, casually asking for your thoughts.

..is he deaf or something?

You had even stressed the "husband" part, and this was his response?

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel disappointed, and sort of offended!

With a scoff, you leaned back on the couch, arms wrapped around your legs.

This caused him to look at you.

“Baby, you alright?”

“Peachy.” you replied, though you were anything but.

How could he not have picked up on what you said? You had made it so clear, and now he was unintentionally ruining your plans.

You let out a heavy sigh, making sure he heard it.

“…what did I do now?”

“Oh nothing..”

The truth was, that was exactly why you felt upset—because he had done nothing. No reaction whatsoever.

But maybe it was just a misunderstanding; perhaps he hadn’t heard you.

Maybe you just needed to rephrase it.

“I heard this movie was good, you wanna watch it?”

“Sure, I’d love to, hubby.”

he reaches his arm out pulling you closer to him.

“Cool, I’ve actually had it on my mind for quite some time”

Okay this is just stupid.

There was NO way he hadn’t noticed your earlier comment.

It was painfully obvious, and it felt cringeworthy that he missed it. Maybe he was just playing dumb.

“Babe.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you repeat what I said like 2 seconds ago?”

“Um, okay..you said, ‘sure I’d love to, hubby’…” He blinked at you, clearly confused. “why do I need to repeat that?”

“Oh, just curious. Can you say the last word of that sentence?”

“Hubby?”

Suddenly, it clicked for him, and you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“Oohh…”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Y-you called me your husband, huh?”

“Yep, I did.”

“That’s cute, but I’m still your boyfriend, baby.”

Why do you bother yourself with such a slow man?

characters: SERIZAWA, akashi, murasakibara, kuroko, giyuu, rengoku, nendou, kageyama, iwaizumi, akaashi, ushijima, geto, nanami, BEELZEBUB, belphegor, barbatos, TODOROKI, iida (anyone you like)

The type to stare at you confused

The frick you just call him?

He’s genuinely very confused and making it painfully obvious with the look he’s giving you.

“Who the hell you calling husband?”

Why did you just call him your husband?

He’s not your husband.

He’s not anyone’s husband!

He’s not even married!

At least, not yet… wait, are you actually thinking of proposing to him?! The very idea sends a jolt of panic through him.

He can’t let you take the lead on that!

Sure, ordering food might feel like a proposal in some bizarre universe, but if you were to pop the question instead of him, it would be a blow to his manhood , and he needs that manhood intact!

“I’m not your husband.” He insists.

“I didn’t say you were my husband”

Girl y’know damn well

“Y-yes you did! I just heard you say it!” His voice rises slightly, a hint of desperation creeping in as he tries to make sense of the situation.

“Maybe it was the wind..” you say with a casual shrug, lifting the wine glass from the table and taking a sip, as if the whole conversation is nothing more than a lighthearted joke.

He shoots you a glare, his brows furrowing in annoyance. “Stop messing with me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” you reply, feigning innocence, but the playful smirk on your lips gives you away.

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean! Y-you, I—ugh.”

“Look, it was just a slip of the tongue,” you say, trying to diffuse the tension, but the glimmer of mischief in your eyes suggests you’re enjoying this far too much.

“A slip of the tongue? You just casually referred to me as your husband. That’s not something you just slip into conversation.”

“Maybe I was just testing the waters,” you tease, leaning back into the couch, your expression playful yet challenging.

“Woman, you better watch it before I test yours”

“What does that even mean?”

“You wanna find out?”

You find out in the end yippee.

characters: dimple, midorima, AOMINE, SANEMI, aren, saiki, tsukishima, UKAI, kuroo, suna, toji, megumi, lucifer, satan, solomon, BAKUGO (anyone you like)

The type to be REALLY giddy about it

Honestly, he could have made an effort to contain his excitement a bit. But like a puppy with its tail wagging in pure joy he’s just so incredibly thrilled to hear you refer to him as your husband.

The way his eyes light up at the sound of those words is almost infectious, and you can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

“Baby..” he start, his voice a mix of eagerness and anticipation.

He’s completely lost in the moment, no longer focused on choosing a movie; that thought has faded to the background, overshadowed by the warmth of your connection.

“Yeah?”

“Say it again.”

His request is almost a whisper, but the intensity behind it is palpable.

He’s practically glowing, leaning in closer, invading your personal space with an eagerness; the way he looked at you, with those wide, adoring eyes that make your heart flutter.

“…say what again?" you tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

You know exactly what he wants, but you can’t resist the urge to draw it out a little longer.

“Y’know..come on, say it baby, please?”

His voice is laced with a mix of desperation and delight, and you can see the way his cheeks flush with excitement.

It’s as if the very idea of being called your husband fills him with a joy that he can hardly contain.

You take a moment, letting the silence stretch between you, enjoying the way he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your skin.

Eventually, you relent, your heart swelling with affection.

“You mean me calling you my husband?”

“God, I love the sound of that,” he breathes, his smile widening as he pulls you into a tight embrace burning his face in between your neck inhaling your scent.

“You should call me that all the time baby..”

“Y’know… I could if we got married.”

Stop putting ideas in this man’s head.

characters: kise, RENGOKU (YES TWICE.), tengen, TORITSUKA, eren, connie, jean, reiner, nishinoya, oikawa, BOKUTO, tendou, atsumu, gojo, asmodeus, DIAVOLO, ITTO (anyone you like)

The type to break. Like he’s not moving anymore..

Pause.

What did you just say?

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications.

“Huh?”

His mind is practically overloading at the moment, trying to process what exactly you had uttered from your mouth.

It’s as if time has momentarily frozen, and he’s caught in a loop, replaying your statement over and over.

Is his brain playing tricks on him? Surely, he heard you right, didn’t he?

The weight of the moment presses down on him, and he can’t shake the feeling that something monumental has just been said.

Is it just him, or is the temperature rising in this room?

The air feels thick, almost suffocating, and beads of sweat begin to form on his brow.

Is he coming down with something?

Why is he feeling so flushed, his cheeks burning as if he’s just sprinted a mile?

“You…” he stammers, searching for the right words, but they elude him.

“Babe?”

Silence hangs in the air, a palpable tension that seems to stretch on indefinitely.

“…Baby?”

Still, no answer. The worry in your voice deepens, in response to his silence.

“Dude, are you alright?” You inquire again, giving him a gentle shake, hoping to break through the fog that seems to envelop him.

He doesn’t even glance your way, lost in his own thoughts, wrapped up in a world of his own.

You can’t help but feel a twinge of concern—did calling him your husband really trigger all of this?

“Tomorrow.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“We’re getting getting married tomorrow.”

“..what.”

He’s lost all sense of time because of you.

characters: reigen, kagami, kaidou, armin, REINER (YESS AGAIN.), hinata, osamu, CHOSO, yuji, MAMMON, leviathan, izuku, denki, tamaki, childe (anyone you like)

[bioblsm]

WHAT DOES THEIR CAMERA ROLL LOOK LIKE?

❀ ꒰warnings꒱. boothill backstory spoilers, not proofread ಥ_ಥ

𖧷 characters. jing yuan, blade, dr ratio, ruan mei, aventurine, sunday, boothill

☆彡 notes. aventurine 🤝 boothill — being some of the most gay ass mfs i’ve seen in a hyv game (apart from bronya and seele) seriously their flamboyance still gives me whiplash…anyways this has been on my mind for months now but i’ve never gotten around to writing it!!! >_<

JING YUAN 𐚁 景元

[◉"] 2,304 photos, 83 videos

⌖ if you scroll really fast down or up his gallery, all you’ll actually manage to see is splotches of pink, blonde and silver

⌖ everything ranges from cute candid shots of yanqing (he takes multiple if yanqing’s fallen asleep while on duty), to sneaky pictures of fu xuan as she’s working where he’s in the foreground doing peace signs — the final picture of course being her looking at the camera lense directly to glare up at him

⌖ reaching weekends when he’s slightly a little more free or allows himself a small break to stroll around town, his camera roll is either filled with pictures of food he’s eaten or swords that yanqing may or not definitely ask about that he’s now more inclined to buy as he’s seen them in person (he’s a boy dad who loves spoiling his child, alright?)

⌖ the large majority of his photos unfortunately are work related, only really the recent ones being deleted from his gallery to clear up some space

⌖ however, while his photos are preoccupied with either his two kids or random scrolls with messy and rushed handwriting, each video is of you; jing yuan thinks a picture would belittle your beauty too much.

⌖ he needs something a little more real, a little more active and animated to help him quell the chirping loneliness that creeps up on his heart whenever you’re away from him for a prolonged period of time; if he’s feeling particularly mischievous he might sneak a quick but blurry picture of himself to send to you ♡

BLADE 𐚁 刃

[◉"] 9 photos, 2 videos

⌖shit is BARREN. literally a complete EMPTY VOID. if you snatched his phone somehow you’d assume he just got it despite him not having changed it ever since he received one

⌖ perhaps on the occasion you’ll find a cameo picture from one of the stellaron hunters as his phone is left unoccupied and someone decided to blast his entire gallery with their face (silverwolf specifically just hacks into his phone to keep putting random screenshots he’s never taken in his gallery to make him believe he’s taken them)

⌖ maybe sometimes he’ll screenshot different ways to die or health clinic locations he can avoid when he’s fortunately bleeding out but otherwise? nothing.

⌖ if you’re a massive yapper and love sending him pictures, he won’t go out of his way to download them for later usage (whatever that may be…) but he also won’t go out of his way to delete it if it’s accidentally automatically downloaded on his phone — maybe elios intended for it to be there?

⌖ it’s quite nice having a reminder of his significant other where he doesn’t have to actively listen to their voice… that’s a little exaggerative; but he loves just mapping out the features in your face, it helps him sleep just the slightest bit better with no ailment if he’s able to trace your features like a constellation on his blank, dark wall

DR RATIO 𐚁 真理医生

[◉"] 1000 photos, 100 videos

⌖ call it a form of ocd, but he NEEDS to have a decent ratio (i didn’t even mean for this to be a pun i’m so sorry) of his photos to videos; he doesn’t care if it’s 10:1, 2:1 1:5, he needs something that’s at least somewhat pleasing to the eyes

⌖ ratio immediately deleted anything he doesn’t need or thinks he won’t find use in for at the very least the month (this includes every single cameo shot aventurine or you have taken of yourselves on his phone without his permission, which by the way, he didn’t hesitate to scold you two for)

⌖ maybe if he’s feeling particularly loving (when is he ever?) he’ll allow ONE picture to stay.

⌖ his camera roll is purely filled with test results, written exams, student emails he needs to read over, things concerning the guild or the ipc and secret purchases of ducks he’s made (he’s not ashamed, he just doesn’t want you to know he’s buying ducks that are bigger in size every time so he can fill your shared bathroom)

⌖ realistically, maintaining such a perfect ratio of photos:videos is rather impossible unless you’ve got impeccable timing with things you save and delete so, in order to bypass this, ratio made a photo library to help serve as a base number of sorts

⌖ that photo library is of course a secret and locked haven filled with pictures and videos of you, none of which you can even recall taking. all of them hold at least some sort of significance to the both of you, but the ones that dr ratio loves the most is the ones that are just natural

⌖ the ones that show you being yourself, whether it’s where you’re cuddled up near a blanket reading something with a leg hiked up over the sheets or where you’re sleeping with your mouth wide open because you’re sick and unable to breathe through your nose properly; he loves it all

RUAN MEI 𐚁 阮•梅

[◉"] 505 photos, 28 videos

⌖ she tries to keep it as neat as possible; that means no sneaky pics taken of her by you, accidental blurry shots she’s taken (god forbid, those ones are immediately scrapped and done anew especially if related to an experiment of hers) thought that doesn’t mean she clears it in the regular

⌖ ruan mei actively saves any photo you send her, sometimes she’ll even screenshot the chat itself if she finds herself clutching at her heart as she swoons over a few lines of flirting that apparently you couldn’t hold yourself back from due to how much you missed her

⌖ she’s not someone really sentimental so despite having photos of her little cake-cat hybrids, she rarely ever rechecks them unless the trailblazer sent another report on their status to match

⌖ honestly her memory is impeccable to the point she doesn’t even need screenshot reminders of things like dates and experiments saved (would it even be called machine reductionist to call her a walking computer model at this point?) therefore, anything she saves that’s work or science related probably has more intricacies that she can account for

⌖ her gallery is a little boring otherwise. for someone of her morally grey standards you’d expect at least something worth mentioning, maybe even something dumb like a secret recipe she uses to make the sweetest (anti-truth serum…) pastries but no— nothing.

yet the reason for that is very blatant; not even her beloved has the privilege to witness her mendacity.

AVENTURINE 𐚁 砂金

[◉"] 8,793 photos, 777 videos

⌖ it’s a complete and utter mess to say the very least; dr ratio refuses to so much as glance at it whenever he’s near and topaz just gets an ick:

“how do you even manage to find anything?”

“luck.”

⌖ his photos range from absurd, to sweet to egotistical. things that remind him of you such as random rocks he finds, alcoholic beverages that have the same colour scheme of an outfit you wore the night before, an animal he saw that he swears if reincarnation was real would so be you

⌖ he has a specific library for just solely screenshots based off your chats, most of them including a significant amount of “i love yous” and goodbyes that promised a little something more when you met up next; everything that aventurine utterly cherished and craved

⌖ …and then the rest was either him showing the background of him photobombing others, pictures he took to send to you (or one of the ipc members to piss them off, sometimes even the trailblazer for a cheeky laugh) and on the even more popular occasion, all his extraordinary wins whether it be in poker, pool or uno

⌖ compared to his photos, his videos are slightly more interesting. a near 50/50 split that ranged between him telling dumbass jokes to piss off his coworkers, recordings of the back of dr ratio’s and or topaz’s head just for the future laughs (he likes the reminder that he does actually have friends and they aren’t just deliberate hallucinations born of loneliness).

⌖ but of course, all his “favourited” videos involve you somehow. sometimes it’s just a slip of your name while he’s sneakily recording a meeting, him telling you he misses you or vice versa, other times it’s just when he feels like he has a home. you snuggled up on his chest, hands intertwined together as your breathing nearly synchronises with him…moments where he feels as though he could forget the trademark imprinted onto his neck.

SUNDAY 𐚁 星期日

[◉"] 777 photos, 111 videos

⌖ now as much as i want to say “oh it’s all you! he has a special folder for you <3” i unfortunately can’t.

⌖ it’s almost most definitely videos of robin’s concerts, solo shows, videos he stolen off of audience members with good seats when he wasn’t available to personally hide in the crowd…a lot of the photos are also the same way; robin’s promotional pictures, screenshots from her recent advertisements and negative hate comments or news stories that he’s going to personally deal with later

⌖ that doesn’t mean he values or priorities you over his sister, absolutely not. you two are the only people in his life who he would unironically take down the skies and survive utter torment for if it meant your voices were the last things he heard as bellowing winds sliced past his eardrums to tune the world out in order to hear his own final breath

⌖ he tries his best not to be sentimental or nostalgic, as he’s been told as he grew up into the bright and maybe just slightly tragic and guilt-infested man he is today, those things in his eyes are an innate weakness of humanity. clinging onto something thats not tangible anymore.

⌖ but he can’t help but hold on to every video you send him. every picture of you smiling, laughing, every text of you saying i love yous, quoting love songs to him or showing him pictures where you jokingly said “that’s us” (did he tilt his head a few times when you kept sending animals to him with that particular correspondent message? perhaps, but it never made him blind to the intentions).

BOOTHILL 𐚁 波提欧

[◉"] 12,113 photos, 191 videos

⌖ he truly doesn’t gaf (give a fork) about how messy it is, all the things that are genuinely important are already locked and loaded into his noggin’, there’s no point in being frugal with the space he’s been given on a little cellular device

⌖ you wouldn’t believe it, but he rarely uses it unless it’s for emergencies. there’s plenty of trouble that comes around when you’re a galaxy ranger, which means having a constant tracking device on you like a phone that you update daily is a stupidly bad idea; which is precisely why his photo gallery is a mess

⌖ he quite literally can’t go in and clear it out otherwise it risks giving out sensitive information.

⌖ not applicable to you, that is. in boothill’s eyes, you’re an “emergency”. if you’ve texted him, it’s obvious you want his attention, which potentially means you could be in danger and he has to rush to the rescue like the flamboyant cowboy he is (no he absolutely knows you don’t need help, but there’s always that nagging “what if” factor, you know?)

⌖ he inwardly blesses whoever invented screenshotting because it would be an understatement to say that little as half of his gallery is littered with you. he’s just a bit of a boomer when it comes to technology like this, despite being a whole walking charging port himself ehem, so a lot of the pictures he has saved of you that you sent over whenever he cutely pleaded;

“missing ya, send me a lil’ somethin’ wont you?”

unfortunately are uncropped and framed with the outline of whatever messaging app you’re on.

⌖ if he lets you scroll up far back enough, maybe you’ll get to see just a glimpse of how similar his adoptive daughter’s smile was to his

© BIOBLSM ✮ do not copy steal or repost

[nitewingbabi]

↳ please respond…I showed you my cock            ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 ✉ taking requests part 2 ▻ a pretty mouth

2023 was a different year for everyone. Covid was 2020's big killer, and now ghostface seemed to be claiming 2023 as his year. You were one of his taunting targets. Text messages, phone calls, notes in your locker or mail. He had even been in your room once to leave a message on your mirror.

‘I like the red ones’ which was referring to your panties that you were trying on the other day after doing some much needed retail therapy with some friends. 

Your group was getting smaller and smaller as more students were murdered, kidnapped or not heard from in weeks. Curfew was getting shorter that soon enough school was sure to be cancelled until the police solved whoever was running around killing everyone. 

It’s Tuesday night and you just finished showering, you had been blowdrying your hair for the last 20 minutes. The recent news far from your thoughts, the truck load of school work that was due was giving you a migraine. Finally your hair was dried and you were ready to slip into bed and start your assignment. You turned your TV on, immediately putting on your current Netflix show that you were binging. 

Eyes flicking back and forth from your laptop screen to your TV. You hadn’t checked your phone since you started to shower and noticed you had multiple messages from an unknown number. But it wasn’t unknown to you. You knew exactly who it was. 

Unknown Number +1**********

➤ quiet night? 

➤ parents aren’t home. 

➤ neighbours are out of town. 

You had only had one actual physical contact with ghostface which was two weeks ago. He chased you around your house until your neighbours came barging in and he ran away. Ever since you had your parents change the locks and debate whether or not to send you across the country to live with your aunt and uncle until it was all over. You pleaded that they didn’t and instead they paid for a self defence class for you. 

Your phone buzzed again, drawing your attention away from the TV. 

Unknown Number +***********

➤ i liked the little show you put on for me the other day. 

➤ wish i had been there to ruin those little red panties 

You weren’t sure what to write back, you sat there debating if you should even write anything back and entertain this creep. 

Just as you put your phone down, the screen lit up and the room echoed from your ringtone. 

Unknown Caller 

You weren’t sure if you should pick up, but something inside you made you do it. 

“Hello?” You hesitantly asked as you held the device up to your ear. Waiting to hear that deep voice that you couldn’t recognise. 

“Hello y/n. Enjoying your show?” Your eyes met your TV screen to see your show playing still on low volume. You turned the TV off, quickly standing to your feet to look out your window. It was barely lit outside from the streetlight and nothing seemed to stick out like a sore thumb. 

“Who is this? Why are you tormenting me?” You had asked the question too many times that it was just routine, you’d hope that one time he would budge and just tell you. 

“The question isn’t who I am. the question is where I am.” You heart began to race, eyes searching endlessly out your window, he had to be close by. You suddenly felt the booty shorts and crop top that you had slid into wasn’t the best attire to be wearing at home alone whilst being stalked by a psycho. 

“Look asshole, you wanna play games. I can play.” You weren’t sure what you exact plan was, but it was the first thing to pop into your head. Were you terrified of ghostface? Yes. But did it also arouse you how much he called you, texted you, the fact he had probably seen you naked countless times, even possibly pleasured himself to the sight of you. 

“Oh yeah? In the mood for monopoly?” He chuckled darkly on the other end, you could only hope he was still watching you from where he was. With your free hand you danced your fingers down your torso, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and panties and itching your way to your centre that was throbbing. You could hear a deep growl on the other end. 

You chuckled into the phone, knowing he was definitely watching you now. You breathed a soft moan as your fingertip circles your juicy clit, using your arousal as lube to slick your finger around the bundle of nerves. Your moans grew louder and your mouth fell agape as you began walking backwards onto your bed, allowing yourself to fall back into the plush mattress and send yourself into a bliss. 

You had forgotten about ghostface, your phone falling from your ear to beside your head. 

“Hey!” Your eyes popped open as you remembered he was still on the other end. You quickly grabbed it, slowing your circles to keep yourself on edge. 

“I want to hear your pretty cries when you cum, I want you to cum to me and only me. You got that princess?” His words were sharp and threatening, just like the blade he used to murder your friends. God you were getting turned on and touching yourself to a psycho killer. The unexpected happened next. A snapchat notification came through. 

Gfce23 added you on Snapchat! 

It was him. It had to be. You accepted, still working yourself and slipping a finger inside your dripping cunt to get more arousal on your clit. 

Immediately a video came through, along with a few photos. You bit your lip as you thought about what could possibly be on the other end. You had to take the chance though, you were too far down the rabbit hole. 

“Open them, I want you to see what you fucking do to me.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, you could tell he was jerking himself on the other end or something. You clicked on the purple square. Your eyes met a hard cock, veiny and thick. The tip an enraged red with a slight purple tinge. A single drop of precum oozing out the slit and his black leather glove wrapped around his cock. 

The video began playing and his hand jerked his cock slowly, throaty moans echoing as the video continued to play and that drop of precum dripped down his pinkish shaft. A small bush of pubic hair that led to a faint snail trail and a set of what you could only guess were abs. 

His hand got faster and his moans got faster as he pumped himself hard in his hand, but before you could view more you heard your parents car pulling into the driveway with their faint music blaring. 

Ghostface was in the back of your mind as you quickly closed your phone and got settled into bed. Ghostface didn’t call you back, didn’t text you and didn’t send anything else to you that night. But that does’t mean he let you off easy. 

It had only been a few days since you last heard from ghostface, but when you did you were surprised to see the message he had sent through was not his usual taunting, threatening approach. 

Unkown Number +**********

➤ i want to see that pretty pussy spread out tonight 

➤ leave your window unlocked

➤ i know your parents wont be home

➤ hope you like it rough princess

[kickintheleaves]

makin a note post bc i need to be held accountable;;

to start off, for every 100 notes I'll finish a wip piece of art, or work on it for half an hour, whichever is shorter. (this includes palette asks! a prompt counts as a WIP) -> 6 so far

100 notes and I'll post a chapter of an ancient fic here (full on planned out, never finished)

300 and I'll finish reading my current book and make some doodles for it

500 and I'll post the stagnant wip piece i have for Godkiller: Last Hope

700 and I'll write a 500-1k word fic in one of my fandoms, the topic determined by whoever is the 700th note (it must be a reblog! put it in the tags, and if you don't know amy of my fandoms, say so and I'll make a raffle post :) ) Claimed! it's an ancient magus bride fic

800 and I'll finish the OC ask games on my main (i have two to finish)

900 and I'll do a rendering practice page and post it

1k and I'll do an inktober style week, but actually do something each day ^^

also if you feel like making me have to do more things, send me palette or prompt asks :3 (please do!)

[monzabee]

pon de replay - cl16 (+18)

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles decide to prove to everyone that it is him that you belong to, and only him.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader 

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: smuttt, nothing but pure filth, one might even say it is pwp, unprotected sex (cover your willy don’t be silly), oral (f receiving), kinda exhibitionism?, public sex, jealous charles, possessive charles, carlos being a little shit because he’s bored, poor lando, not even sure if i fulfilled the request or not, minors dni!! 

Request: “HELLOOOO! i have an idea and you don’t have to write it but it’s been rattling around in my brain and im never gonna write it (i constantly have way too many ideas to write them fr) myself so i figured i’d send it to you cause you’ve kinda restored my F1 phase with your work. basically, reader being very goofy, funny, and maybe a little bit too loud at times. just like a very silly and bubbly personality and she hangs out with some of the f1 boys (maybe because she’s famous in her own right like a dancer or something) so naturally EVERYONE ships her with lando. like hardcore, almost as bad as one direction fans ships (iykyk), and it sorta makes sense cause when they’re together it’s pure and utter chaos and they both express themselves with physical touch B U T ! she’s actually with charles. to her it makes total sense to be with charles instead of lando cause while lando is definitely attractive he’s too much like her and it’d be like dating herself whereas charles brings out a new calm side to her and she can bring out a goofier side to him. opposites attract type shit😭. maybe a little angst cause charles hates seeing all the edits and also feels a little insecure cause lando and reader DO make sense together in his mind so why’d you pick him instead? then like soft fluff/smut reassurance that charles is literally the man of her dreams, a literal fucking prince, and the best person she’s ever been with. ANYWAYS, im rambling! again, you don’t have to write this if you don’t connect with it or don’t have time i just needed an outlet SOMEWHERE for all the F1 brain rot.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i first of all want to start by saying that i’m very sorry that this isn’t exactly like the request, like at all, but it took me a criminal amount of time to actually get this finished so we’re not going to focus on that. okay? okay, great!! in all and all it was actually quite fun to work on this at the beginning, it was just kinda hard for some reason to work on the actual smut part, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Charles wouldn’t call himself a possessive person, not a chance. He might be ambitious, and competitive, but possessive? That, he is not. He’s never been the type of get jealous of his partner’s friends, whether male or female, because he likes to think that he is mature enough to understand that people have friends. It’s that simple. And he is most definitely not the type of person to comment on what you wear when you’re going out, he is just not that guy. He’s fairly certain that his mother would materialise out of thin air and give him a good beating if he were to do that. So when you asked him about the dress you have on earlier before you left his apartment, the one that clings to your body so tightly that he can practically make out the outline of your tits from across the room? He just smiled and told you to have fun tonight – because he’s there to make sure you’re not put off by anyone staring at you in it.

So yeah. He’s not usually the type to let the jealousy take over his ability to think things out rationally, but when his girlfriend is dancing her heart away in the middle of the dance floor while every red-blooded men watch her with the same look in their eyes? Yeah, it’s not easy to keep his emotions in check at the moment given the circumstances. And it’s not that he even intends to pout like a petulant child at the bar, making sure to keep an eye on you, it’s just that he is an expressive person and his face reflects what he’s feeling that well. Totally because of that. It’s scary how utterly focused he is on you, watching your every move to make sure no one is bothering you, though you don’t seem to be in need of his help as he watches you dance with one of the girls you met when you first arrived to the club – and with Lando, though he tries not to focus on that part too much.

It's fine, though, he tries to make himself believe, it’s fine as long as you’re having fun. Though that doesn’t necessarily stop him from throwing daggers into Lando’s direction as covertly as he can. The way he has a friendly arm around you is driving him crazy, and he is not above stomping over there to pull you under his arm, drag you to the nearest bathroom and– Well, maybe he shouldn’t get too far ahead of himself just yet.

“They look good together, no?” He hears someone ask him from the side. He realises it is his teammate when he turns to give the person a glare.

“Who?” He asks, deciding to play dumb, but he can’t help himself as he makes a face while focusing his gaze back on you.

“You know who I’m talking about, cabrón!” Carlos exclaims, laughing as he pats him on the back and points to the two of you with a tilt of his head, “I’m glad he’s finally doing something about it rather than sulking around like a geriatric toddler.”

If he would have turned around any faster, Charles is sure his neck would actually, possibly, break. “What?” he spits out as he turns around, “Do you mean her and Lando?”

Carlos gives his teammate a confused look, “Yes,” he drawls out, “you didn’t know he had a crush on her? I thought the entire paddock knew!” Charles feels a surge of disbelief and a tinge of anger bubbling within him.

He wouldn't call it possessiveness, more like a primal instinct to protect what's his. But this revelation catches him off guard, shattering his carefully constructed facade of nonchalance. With doing his best to keep calm under the situation, he asks, “Are you sure you’re not making things up? I feel like you’re misreading the situation here.”

That receives another confused look from his teammate, and though Charles is quite the perceptive person, he misses Carlos starting to put the pieces together – thanks to his overreaction. “I guess so,” Carlos mumbles, loud enough for Charles to hear him in the loud club, “he’s always talking about her, though. The way she smiles, her hair, her dresses; did you know he even went to see one of her performances in Vegas?” Carlos feels bad, really, but there is also something so fulfilling in confirming his theories as he watches his teammate’s eyes bulge out at the mention of one of your dance shows in Vegas. Because Charles knows what those entail.

“I-in Vegas?” He stutters out, eyes moving to focus on your dancing figure again. And at that moment, he absolutely hates Lando. He hates him for having his arms around you, he hates him for dancing with you to the beat in a rhythm he never seems to be able to keep up with, he hates him for the way everybody seems to think the two of you seem to make a handsome couple, and he absolutely hates him for the way he makes you smile.

Charles Leclerc is not a possessive guy – until it comes to you, that is.

“Charles?” He hears Carlos call out his name, but he’s out of his seat long before he can hear the end of his sentence. He doesn’t mean to stomp across the dance floor to get to you. He really doesn’t. He also doesn’t mean to grab you by your arm and put a pause on your fun. And the smile you give him and the way you wrap your arms around his neck while you call him ‘Charlie’? Makes his heart stutter in a way that makes him forget why he ever came over in this first place. Because this should be normal – you, having male friends and spending time with them should not make him insecure. He should be fine with you and Lando spending time together because you both love the hustle and bustle of a club. But at that moment, he doesn’t care about what should be normal, no. He cares about the fact that someone other than him has managed to make you smile, and that he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who should be on the receiving end of all your smiles.

So when he drags you away from the dancefloor (and Lando, for that matter), he doesn’t listen to your objections. He doesn’t care about the way Carlos is watching from his place from the bar, putting all the pieces together as he shares a look with Lando. And he most definitely doesn’t care about the fact that he’s about to fuck you in the club’s bathroom. Well, maybe he does care about that last part. “Charlie,” you whine, your voice clearly scratched from shouting along the lyrics of the songs playing throughout the night, and he doesn’t miss the way you slur his name ever so slightly – which tells him that you had at least two drinks. Cosmopolitans, if he had to guess. “Pleaaase,” you drag out the word, pulling on his shirt to get his attention, “they are playing my song!”

His first mistake is to look at you, because the way your lips form a pout and the way you’re giving him puppy dog eyes is usually strong enough for him to give in. Though this is no usual situation. So instead of moving the two of you back to the dancefloor, he grabs you by your cheeks and presses his lips against you. In the middle of the club, where everybody can see him doing it. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, and you’re definitely out of breath when he does move away. Cosmopolitans, he realises after tasting you. You've had cosmopolitans. Then, he just gives you a look, threads his fingers through yours and raises an eyebrow. Then he asks, “Are you going to be a good girl and come with me now, or should I do this the hard way and just carry you on my shoulder?”

If this was any other situation, you would totally say something bratty back. Hell, you might have actually said something rude if it meant him being rough with you, maybe spanking you a few times just enough times for you to learn your lesson. But you understand that this is no ordinary situation from his voice and the expression on his face. Charles is like that, you suppose. He’s an open book – meaning that it is very easy to understand what kind of a mood he’s in just by looking at his face, or listening to the undertone of his voice. And right now? Right now you know he’s pissed. You don’t necessarily know what you did, nor do you care. Mainly because all you want to do is make him feel better simply because of the reason that he is one of those people who’s just meant to smile at all times, not frown.

And so you nod gingerly, squeaking out a thimble, “Yes.” You finally meet his eyes as you wrap yourself around his arm, pushing yourself closer to him in the crowded club. “I’ll be good.”

This thumb does that thing where he caresses your knuckle, and he starts moving you through the crowd again. This time, however, you try to stick to him by matching the speed of his steps rather than trying to stay back. You told him you’d be good, you intend to keep your promise. He’s quiet all the way to the bathroom, and he’s quiet when he motions you to get inside, and he’s quiet when he closes to door and promptly locks it behind your back. You think for a moment you’re just there for a chat, maybe about that something you might’ve done, but Charles takes you by surprise as he grabs your waist and pushes you against the door, causing your eyes to widen with realisation of what you’re about to do in that bathroom.

“Charles, what’s wrong?” You try to ask, but he shuts you up with another kiss. And if you thought the previous kiss was aggressive, this one absolutely consumes you. He doesn’t even give you a fighting chance as his tongue quickly dominates yours, and he is relentless as he nips at your lower lip. You can’t help the mortifying moan that leaves your lips, and you push him away to inhale deeply. “What has gotten into you?” You ask, eyes wide due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins, “What happened?”

“You, happened.” He growls. And by that, you mean that he actually growls. His voice is a few octaves deeper than his usual voice, and you can see that he’s snappy. There is this dark look in his eyes that would otherwise scare you if you didn’t know him, but you do. Because he’s your Charles.

And you know this because the quickly leans into your touch when you bring one of your hands up to cup his cheek, giving him a confused look. “Did I do something?” You ask, voice soft amidst the humid bathroom. “Oh my god, is it my dress? Is it too short?” Your eyebrows draw closer as you start properly spiralling. “I knew I should’ve worn the shorts, why didn’t you say something?”

Your mini monologue about your party attire must have struck a chord because Charles suddenly exhales heavily, his forehead resting against yours as he closes his eyes. “No, non, it's not about the fucking dress,” he lashes out, his voice strained, and lace with something else that you can’t quite catch. “I don’t care what you wear, though I do appreciate the easy access.”

“Easy access?” You repeat, testing out the words as you come to a realisation. “What?” You exclaim, quickly taking your hand away from his face to lightly slap at his chest. “No! We are definitely not doing that here, are you out of your mind? You pulled me away because you can’t keep it in your pants until we’re home?”

“And why not?” He asks, and this time, you can see the unbridled rage behind his look. “Would you rather go back to Lando out there? You looked quite happy in his arms after all.”

And the realisation dawns on you right then and there. That this isn’t about your choice of dress for the evening, no. It is about Lando. Though you don’t get that part, since he’s both of your friend, so why is Charles being like this? And you would ask him, of course. But the look he gives you indicates that he doesn’t want to be tested in that exact moment.

So instead, you attempt to calm him down, by dragging your hand gently down his chest and wrapping your arms around his middle. He is like that, your Charles, sometimes he just wants to be held to see reason. “Charlie,” you call out, voice soft as you give him a pleading look, “why don’t you tell me what this is about, hm?”

You think he’s going to finally give in for a moment, but then he just gives you a blank stare. “I don’t want to talk,” he grunts, pulling you flush against him by the hands he has on your waist. His lips are on your neck faster than you can say anything, working his way towards your collarbones. The faint whimpers that come out of your lips bring a small smile to his lips knowing that he’s the one causing them, not Lando or any other guy.

“Charles,” you gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail along your skin. Despite the confusion and frustration swirling within you, you can't deny the way his touch ignites a fire deep within you, consuming your thoughts and leaving you breathless with desire. But as much as you crave his touch, you know that there are unresolved issues between you, issues that need to be addressed before you can fully give yourself to him in this moment. “Charlie,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper as you gently push against his chest, urging him to stop. “Stop, we need to talk about this.”

“Talk about what?” He asks, all breathy and with a wild look in his eyes. You can see that he’s trying to hold himself back, but at the same time his hands keep moving on your body in a way that makes you want to let him lose control and perhaps even join him. He successfully ignores your attempts at pushing him away, sliding his hands down on your body to grab the hem of your dress, clenching the material in his hand while dragging it upwards on your thighs until he reaches the soft skin of your stomach. “I have a thing in mind which might help me feel better.” Unable to take your eyes off of him, you take a stuttered breath as you watch him slowly get down on his knees, his lips pressing kisses starting form your sternum continuing down your body over your dress until you feel his lips on the exposed skin of your stomach. His kisses stop once he’s met with the top lining of your underwear, looking at you with a mischevious glint in his eyes as he nips at the nimble lace adorning the top. You call out his name in a weak whimper – though it is not clear to you, nor him, whether you’re asking him to stop or go on. Charles decides to go with the latter. “You know what to say if you want me to stop.”

You don’t really need his reminder, you realise, but it is a welcome one. Your cheeks blush even further when you feel his gaze on you as he lowers his face towards your core, leaving a sweet kiss onto your clit through the fabric of your thong. Suddenly, you want nothing more than to just rip to whole thing apart so there is nothing separating you from him, but you know the game, and you especially know that the ending is sweeter than what you could ever imagine at that moment. And so you wait – you wait until he eventually makes his move and gives your slit a generous lick through the fabric. Watching you is equal parts thrilling and painful, mainly because he wants to drag out his teasing as long as possible just to see you falling apart for him. It’s second nature to you, the way your hand threads through his hair to move him the way you want to, but it is of course not an option because it’s Charles who is in charge.

He makes this known by the way he pulls away, ignoring the way your hands scramble to guide him back to where you want him to be. He nips at the skin of your thigh in a warning manner, pulling a whine from your lips as he fixes you with a look, “You’re not in control tonight, mon bijou, I’ll stop if you try to take over. You got that?” It’s sobering to see him take control in such a way, you sweet little Charles. Usually, he has no problem just laying back and letting you take all the control, or even just making you believe you do. But now? With the way he’s looking at you with such hunger? You know you’d be soaking through your underwear if you weren’t so wet for him already. All you can do is offer him a meek nod, with your lips hanging open in shock, but he is not satisfied with your answer. No, he needs to hear you say the words. So, being the initiative person that he his, he tips at your skin again, this time earning himself a whimper along a grumble about how he’s being unreasonable. He isn’t, but that’s a topic to discuss another time, he decides. “I said, you got that?”

“Yes! Fine, yes!” You whine, grabbing your dress even tighter with your fist that isn’t buried in his hair, “Please just make me come.”

“See?” He asks, flashing you a sweet smile as he lowers his face back onto where you need him the most, “It wasn’t that hard now, is it?” The grumble about how he’s about to be the hard one, makes him chuckle to himself, the rumbling from it making you moan his name as he finally gives you what you want. His tongue works fast as he laps on the wetness through your underwear, soaking the material even more without a care in the world. If you weren’t wet before, you’re sure you’re definitely wet as he drags his tongue through your slit and back onto your clit to suck it through the fabric, causing you to let out a string of moans, each getting considerably louder as he works on your cunt.

The breath is knocked out of your lungs as the moments pass, as you become closer and closer to your impending release. You don’t even notice the fact that you’ve started to move your hips to match the rythym of his tongue, seeking something more to make you tip over the edge. You’re also very aware of the fact that Charles is letting you what you want to do, and though you’re scared out of you midn that he’ll stop like he threatened to do before, the little nod he gives you when you give him a pleading look assures you that he also wants you to come undone on his face.

Or so you’ve thought.

Because he knows your body so well that jus as you’re about to come he pulls back, leaving you high and dry, and even has the nerve to chuckle when he hears his name coming out of your mouth in a high pitched whine. You’re so lost in the moment that you almost miss the way he gently grabs your hands and removes them from his hair, pinning them above you and pushing you against the wall. “Why?” You whine, lips pushed out in a pout as your voice gets gradually whinier, “I was so close, Charles.”

“Oh, baby,” he cooes, “I know you were, I could feel it too.” He starts peppering your feverish skin with kisses, as if to say sorry for leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, and you find yourself arching your neck to expose more of your skin to his skillfull lips. You should stop him, some part of you screams to you in your head, because with the way he’s disguising the fact that he’s marking you with hickeys, but you don’t care at that moment. Your every breath and moan seem to motivate him to work faster, and harder, and when he eventually pulls back to leave a bruising kiss on your lips. A smirk finds its way onto his lips as he gives you an eyeing down, taking in how breathless you look. “Don’t worry, mon bijou, I’ll fuck you now, okay?”

You don’t even realise the nod you give him, too lost in his eyes to put words together to form a proper sentence. He’s gentle with you as he lets go of your hands and positions you the way he wants. With one of your legs wrapped around his hip he has better access to your soaked underwear, his fingers working quickly to pulling it aside. You don’t know when he managed to get himself free from his pants and underwear, but that doesn’t stop you from letting out a loud moan when you feel the tip of his cock circling your clit. “Please, please, please,” your voice cracks as you frantically beg him to do something more. You’d love nothing more than to scold him for the way he shushes you condescendingly, but any complaint you had evaporates when you feel him nudge your entrance. “Please,” you breathe out again, giving him pleading looks as you try to pull him closer somehow, “You promised me you’d fuck me.”

That manages to pull out a beathy chuckle for him, and as if he’s trying to console you, you feel his fingers gently caressing the skin of your hip. “Why don’t you do it yourself, hm?” A grin widens on his lips when you give him a look of confusion, and he leads one of your hands between your bodies for you to wrap it around his cock. “You want me inside you, right?” He rewards your tentative nod with a series of kisses down the column of your throat, “Come on then,” he mumbles into your skin, “put it in, pretty girl.” Exhaling a shaky breath, you keep your eyes on him as you guide him through your entrance. A gasp is torn from your lips when you feel his tip entering you, the initial stretch being more overwhelming because of the fact that you’re standing up. But Charles is quick to soothe you with his kisses down your neck, letting you control the rhythym and how further he can move inside you at first. With your hand making its way down to his hip, pressing him close to you, he quickly gets the message that you’re ready for him. “You’re ready?” He double-checks, raising his head to fix his eyes to yours.

“I swear to god if you don’t fuck me right now–” Your words are interrupted when you feel him move his hips back, just enough to have his tip inside you, and then he snaps his hips forward to thrust back in, making your breath hitch at the back of your throat. It doesn’t take very long for you to become a moaning mess, in fact, you’re more than ready to fall apart for him then and there, but you know he won’t let you until he gets his point across.   

“Look at you, mon bijou,” Charles darkly chuckles, hips matching the rhythym of the song playing outside at the dance floor, “what would people think if they saw you being such a mess for me in a club’s bathroom?” And the whine you let out in response to his question nothing if pathethic, but you can’t find it in you to care because of how good he’s making you feel. “Yes?” He prompts you, mocking the whiny ‘Yes’, that leaves your mouth before you start begging him to let you come. But he doesn’t, because he knows you can hold it until he’s ready for you too, and he tells you just that.

“So good, Charlie, so good,” you can’t help the broken moans you let out as he fucks you to the brink of an orgasm. But that is not enough for him, no. He needs everyone to know the two of you are together now, needs to get out all of his pent up frustrations out.

So when the opportunity presents itself with Lando knocking on the door asking if you are okay? A knowing smirk find its way onto his lips, and you try to silently plead with him with your eyes. “You want to cum?” He whispers in your ear, his thrusts becoming faster. “Say my name if you want to come, baby.”

“Please–” You gasp, hands grabbing the shirt he’s wearing. It’s no avail even if you try to keep your voice down. Because when Charles finds a way to slither his hand down between your legs and starts rubbing your clit in firm circles? You know there is no way you can stay quiet through your orgasm. “Why?” You manage to get out, “God, Charles please.”

“Tell me who’s making you feel so good, pretty girl.” He encourages you, his rhythym now almost brutal as he tries his best to make you come for him. “Come on, tell me who you belong to.” He chuckles darkly when he sees you shaking your head. “It’s not Lando, it’s me. You hear that?” Uh-huh, is the only answer he receives in return, but he is of course not satisfied with it. So, he gently pinches the inside of your thigh. “Tell me who’s going to make you come, or I’ll stop.”

“N-no!” You exclaim, too overwhelmed to see that his threat is an empty one, because he would never actually do something like that to you. “Please, please don’t stop.”

“Come on,” he cooes, the sweet words he whispers into your skin making you more and more malleable to his request. “Say my name baby, let me hear you.”

“Charles,” your loud moan cuts the heavy air in the bathroom. Cheeks flushed, breath unorganised and with that wild look in your eyes? There’s nothing Charles wouldn’t do for you. With every move of his hips, you moan his name louder, eventually tipping over the edge as he feels you squeezing his cock so tight that he almost loses himself then and there.

That’s not to say he doesn’t, of course. Because just as you’re about done with your orgasm, you feel him come inside you, chanting your name alongside mine, mine mine. It takes a long time for the both of you to get back to your senses, but he’s extremely gentle with you as he helps you down and fixes your underwear. You find yourself snuggling up to him when he eventually takes you into his arms after fixing his own clothing, nuzzling your nose to his neck. “You know, I think I like the jealous side of you.” You mumble, leaving a few kisses across his jaw.

“Yeah?” He asks, a breathy chuckle leaving him as he cradles your face with both of his hands, his thumbs caressing the apples of your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You nod, giving him a small smile, “But I need you to take me home, please, I can feel your cum dripping down my leg.”

“Oh baby,” he coos, tutting as he slides his hands down your body to grab you by the waist, “we’re not going home, it would be rude to leave our friends by themselves. Don’t you think so?” The flabbergasted look that you give him makes another chuckle come from his lips as he slowly turns you towards the door. His lips find the junction between your neck and shoulder again as he announces, “We’re going to go back out there, and we’re going to dance. We wouldn’t want you to miss your song now, would we?”

And when he opens the bathroom door and you hear the first words to a Rihanna song you love? You know it’s going to be a long night ahead of you.

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 4

Series Summary: After recently graduating you take what is supposed to be a job to save money before you go back to university to get your law degree. Your best friend offers you a job cleaning luxury homes for clients you’ll never know. Easy. Simple. Mundane. Until one of your clients is home and everything you felt was missing in your life starts to fall into place. This goes against the NDA you signed and you could get fired. Or worse, you could fall in love.

Chapter Summary: JMKink is nothing and everything that you need and want it to be. Meanwhile, you are nothing and everything that Joel imagines you to be.

WC: 13.8k

TW: Warnings are below the cut in small red, feel free to skip them if you want to avoid chapter spoilers, but there are some descriptions of reader so I would classify this as more of an original character versus a blank canvas female reader.

AN: I actually cannot believe how many of you reached out all excited about September 1st approaching. From the bottom of my cold dead heart, thank you!! The more I write this, the more I picture video game Joel, so do with that what you will haha. Thanks so @ak-vintage and @lotusbxtch for beta reading for me. Support banners and dividers by @saradika-graphics. I recently got promoted at work (yay me), but the job is now waaaaaay more work than before, so enjoy this chapter slowly because I am not sure when I will be writing chapter 5.

Series Masterlist || My Masterlist

TW: p in v, dirty talk, sub dom relationships, age gap, alcohol consumption, flirting, voyeurism, description of a threesome and other sexual acts, use of sex toys, nipple clamps, female orgasm, talks of neglectful parents during childhood and loss of a spouse. Mutual pining.

“Hnnng, fuck yes, daddy.” He’s rutting into you deeper than anyone else ever has. Long, slow strokes of his heavy cock sending you into a spiral of white hot, sparkling nirvana. 

“So fuckin’ wet n’ tight. Fuck, sweet girl.” His deep voice devours you - rattling around your skull, echoing slightly as if you’re in a large, empty room. 

Everything is black; darker than the onyx pits of his eyes. You’re not sure if you’re up or down, and you’re either blindfolded or have your face buried in a pillow as he fucks into you from behind. All you can feel is the pleasurable push and pull of his thick, vein lined cock slamming in and out of you. The vast darkness and the feeling of him filling you so full is overwhelming

“Please, daddy. Please. I’m so close.”

The soft mushroom head of his cock is kissing right where he taught you to crave it, and you wouldn’t be surprised if that spongy spot had ‘Property of Joel Miller’ branded on it by now. Within seconds of him pressing inside of you tonight you had completely submitted to him; surrendering to the darkness, the sensation, the exquisite pleasure. This is exactly where you were meant to be, and he’s the only one you’d want to be here with. It has never been this good, and even with your limited experience you know that it will probably never be this good with anyone else. 

“Don’t stop this time. Please don’t stop this time.” You’re an aching, crying, desperate crumb of yourself; wholly at his mercy.  

“No coming until I say.” His voice seems further away with every word and dread settles in your stomach as it all starts to fade.

“No! Nonono. Please no.” You feel a hot tear run down your face as the euphoria fades. You can barely feel or hear him anymore as little slits of yellow light appear. You blink once, twice. After a third long blink your bedroom comes into view.

Fuck. 

This has been the start of your new three part morning routine for the last few nights, since that kiss with Joel, since filling out your preferences and signing all the waivers. Since being asked to submit test results and proof of birth control. Since Joel Miller became your Dom. Night after night you dream of him fucking you, and night after night, right as you’re about to fall over the edge, he tells you not to come until he says and you wake up.

The second part of your morning routine is a lot more cathartic and vocal - very vocal. Your newly painted cotton candy pink nails (anything to stay distracted and busy) dig into the soft cotton of your pillow as you pull it out from behind your head, pressing it to your face and screaming until your throat feels raw.

Fuck.

When all the breath is pushed from your lungs, you put your pillow back and kick off the blanket. Your bare feet drag along the worn down carpet of your bedroom to the cold and cheap linoleum of your bathroom. You pee, avoiding your clit at all costs when you clean up. You know you’re down fucking bad when even the scratchy 1-ply toilet paper is enough to make you almost crumble. 

Part three of your new morning ritual is probably the part that shocks you the most. You change into leggings and a tank top, slipping a ten dollar bill and your house key into the side of your sports bra. The old springs of your mattress creak as you sit to slip on socks and your lavender colored runners, that you honestly forgot you owned until the morning after your twenty second birthday. You sneak out of your apartment, careful not to wake your roommate and jog down the stairs from your fourth floor suite to step into the cool March morning air.

Fuck. 

After shaking out each leg, you start to run. There’s no technique to your form or a planned out route. You leave your phone behind, only sounds are the morning traffic and your struggling breath to keep you company. It's just you, pushing your body to forget how badly you’re throbbing between your thighs and trying to erase the feeling of him. As you turn the corner at the end of your block you can see the bright green grass and leafy trees of the park. Your calf muscles burn with every step, but it’s not enough; you can still feel him. As you reach the park your lungs start to burn; they feel like they’re filling with fluid. Your ankles protest with every strike of your feet against the concrete. Finally, just as you swear you’re about to meet your maker it happens, the sweet release you’re pushing for. Finally every trace of the ghost of Joel Miller disappears. 

Your legs slow below you and you clutch your side, wandering lazily around the park. The rush of blood through your ears is nearly deafening, almost completely drowning out the chirping of the birds and the trickling of the water in the large stone fountain. You suck in quick, deep breaths, essentially doing everything and anything not to pass out. You’re free from him, if only for a little bit, as you fight against what feels like death knocking on your door. 

As you walk home you grab a coffee - black with just a splash of almond milk, apologizing to the barista as you hand her the sweaty ten dollar bill that was tucked into your bra and begin mentally scheduling your day. It’s Monday, which means you don’t work today and you can focus on studying and laundry. Your LSAT retake is just a few days away, today is your last full free day, and you have to get as much studying and practicing done as possible. The dread of taking that test again has your hot coffee doing flips in your stomach. Getting some college letters would really help put you at ease. You know you applied early but it would be nice to know if you need to continue to push or if you can finally rest. 

When you get back to your apartment your roommate has already left for her classes. You check your phone and your heart lurches in your chest at Joel’s name across your cracked lock screen. There’s been no contact between the two of you since Friday night. You slide open the text with shaky fingers

Good Morning, sweet girl. Are you ready to learn? 

You bite your lip as you respond. 

Yes, please, Mr Miller. 

You stare at the text thread for a while. Although you aren’t sure if a total of three texts can be considered a thread, but you stare anyway trying to will more messages into existence. After a few minutes you give up, locking your phone and stripping your bedsheets. The trek to the laundry in the building feels like it takes forever and you rush back to check your phone. There’s no response but you do have a little red bubble on your JMK app. You excitedly tap on the app to see a new menu titled ‘Dominant Preferences’ added at the top. When you click it, everything from your Reddit wormholes is revealed.

 ‘Joel Miller likes to participate in bondage play, nipple play, toy play, dirty talk, oral sex (both giving and receiving), and fingering. He doesn’t like brat taming, but is willing to participate in scenes where his submissive needs to be put in her place occasionally. He never has sexual intercourse - vaginal or anal, this is a hard limit for him and his submissives need to understand that there is zero room for negotiation on this matter. He’s very open to impact play, but believes that only good girls should get spankings.’

You click off the little ‘Read and Accepted’ box at the bottom without hesitation. As if he’s waiting for you to accept, he texts you seconds after your finger has made contact with the screen. 

8pm tomorrow. I’m sending a car for you. You should dress comfortably.

The same kind faced man from your birthday waits for you outside your apartment at 7:30 the next night. He opens the door, smiling gently at you as you hop in; leather and new car smell wafting around you. During the drive to the club you learn his name is Arthur, but my friends call me Cap. 

“Can I ask you a question, Cap?” You ask as downtown comes into view.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Do you drive all of Joel’s, umm, do you drive lots of women around for Joel?”

He chuckles knowingly from the driver's seat, glancing into the rearview mirror at you. “No ma’am. Joel is a pretty secretive man. I have driven him places when he’s alone, or I drive Tommy’s subs, but never Joels.”

You nod and look out the window. It’s just you, sweet girl, only you.

Cap rushes to open the door when he pulls up to JMKink. The club is in a different building than Joel’s office; that was in the tall building across the street. Three bright and expansive floors of that red stone faced building belonged to JM Inc. Assumingly, the home base for all the businesses he has his hands in. This building, however, is smaller amongst the tall skyscrapers of the Austin skyline. The entire building is coated in a shiny black chrome, from the steel framing to the windows, except for the golden JMK logo on the front door. You take a calming breath before heading up the steps, the blacked out glass door slides open automatically.

Your dark high heeled boots click on the black and honey flecked marble, the floor reminding you of Joel’s eyes. You wish the marble would suck you into it so you could live in that feeling you get when Joel looks at you. Where it might be seen as cold and intimidating to others, to you it feels warm and inviting, almost familiar, and that little box of feelings in the back of your mind stirs a little bit. 

He told you to dress comfortably tonight, and you felt most at ease in a deep green sweater dress and knee high heeled boots. The dress just barely skims your thighs, making your legs look long and toned. You could use a tan, but it’s only March, everyone in Texas could use a tan at this point. You left your hair down in loose curls and kept your makeup minimal, as always. 

There are three people in the small foyer. Two stunning women stand behind the hostesses desk in matching black dresses and collars. To the right of them stands a man who looks like he could kill you with his pinkie. He’s also dressed in all black, and stands in front of a large door. Everything here seems like it’s meant to intimidate but all you can see and feel is the safety that comes with knowing Joel Miller. 

One of the women looks up at you, smiling comfortingly and asks for your name. Before you can respond, Joel's honey lined voice answers her. The sound of your name on his tongue feels like taking a breath of fresh winter air. Goosebumps break out across your skin, your own breath leaping in your throat as you spin slowly to meet his gaze. There’s no other way to around it, Joel Miller is fucking exquisite. His slightly outgrown curls are pushed back, silver reflecting off his temples and throughout his beard. Tonight he’s wearing a deep midnight blue Tom Ford suit with one jacket button done up, underneath he’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt, paired with brown dress shoes and what you assume will be a matching belt. One of his hands is tucked in the pocket of pants that literally look like they weren’t made for him, the other hangs loose at his side and you catch that gold ring again.  

He doesn’t take his eyes off you as he speaks to everyone in the lobby, “You’re all to remember her name. She is my guest, my only guest, and as far as you’re all concerned she’s the most important person in this club. Understand?”

The little box of feelings lifts its lid a little. No, you say to the box, banishing it back to its dark corner.

A jumbled mess of ‘yes’ and ‘sorry’ fills the lobby but the only thing that’s clear to you is Joel as he wanders over, placing his hand on the small of your back, and leading you towards the large black door that the lethal looking man is guarding. As he pulls you into his side his voice quiets, his words a low growl meant only for you. “Hi, sweetheart.” When he sponges a soft kiss to your temple you press your lips together to stop the giggle that’s trying to burst out of you. Joel Miller makes you giddy in a way that you haven’t felt since you were much younger and saw a One Direction music video for the first time. 

This afternoon, you had your easily predicted moment of panic. As with every decision you’ve ever made, you started to think that this wasn’t the right one. Maybe Tommy was the safer choice. Maybe you’ve bit off more than you can chew, or girlbossed too close to the proverbial sun. Or in kink terms, flirted too closely with the St Andews Cross. But now, being here tucked tightly against Joel's side as he guides you into your first experience with the world of kink you couldn’t feel any more sure of your decision. 

You hold your breath as the shiny black marble door opens, this feels like one of those big climatic moments you see in the movies, like you know the main character's life is about to change, and a nervous excitement buzzes through your veins. As the club comes into view it’s nothing like you thought. For starters, there aren’t cages or naked people around, and at first glance it looks just like a lounge in a high end hotel or restaurant. JMKink is beautiful, breathtaking.

 Light pine flooring is set in a herringbone pattern across the entire club. Directly in front of you are a few tall tables and then, situated in the middle of the space, is a large black marble bar. The bartender is surrounded by a halo of soft chiffon light that casts down from a brushed gold chandelier. The tables and bar top have tealight candles on them, making the entire thing feel sensual and soft. It’s just dimly lit enough that you can’t see beyond the bar from here. Joel guides you gently to the right. The booths that line the wall are only illuminated by the flickering candle on the table. Three of the booths are roped off, guarded by a tank of a man in a black suit. As Joel leads you towards them, you notice each of those tables have a gold plated reserved sign along with a name; Joel, Tommy and Tess. 

Confusion swirls in your brain at the romantic feeling the club gives off. Part of you expected to walk into a sex dungeon or that red room that Christian took Anastasia to, but you definitely weren’t expecting this. If this place was just a bit brighter you could imagine studying here on weekends. 

This isn’t a sex club, there’s no way.

As you slide into the furthest booth you’re able to see a small stage on the back wall and empty dance floor looking area on the other side of the bar. You can feel Joel’s warm gaze on you as you look around with wide eyes. Right when you’re almost convinced that you interpreted the information you found on Reddit wrong, your eyes land on the far left side of the room.

No, now that you see if from this angle, you are indeed in a kink club; a well stocked kink club based on the entire sex shop in the corner. You feel your cheeks flush and you dart your eyes towards Joel, pushing at your cuticle under the table, smiling shyly at him.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” His voice is syrupy and warm as two drinks land on the table. Whiskey neat for him and some sort of pink martini for you.

“Nothing..I just, it’s not what I expected,” you swallow the sand that’s found its way into your throat at seeing all those sex toys just out on display in the corner and flick your eyes towards your drink.

“That's a cosmopolitan. I can get you something else if you want, sweetheart. The female staff here seems to love them.”

“No, I should have said thank you. I’m sorry.” His hand comes to meet yours as it’s picking furiously at the non-existent skin of your nail bed. He wraps his hand tightly around yours, and brings them to rest on the top of the table together.

“Take a breath, sweet girl. You’re ok.” His words wrap around you tightly, calming you. You’re ok. Your heart rate slows and you relax into the plush velvet lined booth a little bit, smiling sheepishly up at Joel. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” Your free hand grabs the martini glass and you bring it to your nose, it smells like cranberry and lime.

As you take a small sip Joel says, “You really don’t have to drink it, baby girl. I can get you whatever.”

The vodka burns away any sand that remains in your throat. It’s tart, and dangerously delicious. You can see yourself getting very fucked up these with your girlfriends one day soon. “No, I like it. Thank you.”

After putting the glass safely on the table, Joel lets go of your hand, wraps his arm around your waist and slides you across the seat, pressing you to his side. “Is this ok?”

JOEL

His cock twitches at the little hum you make in agreement. You lift your leg closest to him and rest it over his under the table. He squeezes your side gently, sinking into the comfort of you and grabs his whiskey. “So if this isn’t what you thought, what were you expecting?”

He loves the way you blush a little before answering him. “People just, you know, it’s a sex club, so just having sex here.”

He lowers his head to yours and whispers just for you, “There are people having sex here, sweet girl.”

He laughs to himself as your eyes narrow and you look around at the other people in the bar. “Not out here, just because you’re in a sex club doesn’t mean you have to consent to seeing or hearing people fuck. Or to be having sex yourself, really.” He loves the way you look at him with surprise at his boldness. He cocks his head towards a guarded door between the stage and booths along the wall, “But behind that door - well, people are indulging as we speak.”

He watches the small shiver of your spine, pulling back to take a sip of his whiskey, allowing you time to look around and become comfortable in your surroundings. He watches your perfect lips part, finding himself jealous of the rim of the glass as you take another sip. Great, first spoons and now glasses. As he watches your neck work to liquid down he says, “So did you leave that little pussy alone like I asked?”

Your head whips to face him, he can’t quite place your facial expression. It’s a twisted  mix of fear, shyness and embarrassment, like you’re worried that someone may have heard him say pussy; but if you only knew the kinds of things happening in this club right now.

“What?” you ask shakily.

“Did you come? Or did you listen?”

“Umm…I,” he can tell that you’re flustered, and he finds you nearly irresistible like this.

“Are you nervous, sweet girl?”

He’s not sure if you realize it, but when you’re tense and he calls you by that nickname you relax a little. Your shoulders lower, the little crease in between your eyebrows softens. “No,” you say, and he’s not convinced.

Joel deepens his voice, a voice he only intends to use when you’re at the club together. Or when she’s in my bedroom. He pushes any thoughts of you outside of the confines of this space away, “Lesson number one, don’t lie to your Dom. We have to be able to trust each other.”

You look up at him through your lashes and it damn near kills him. You’re so beautiful, absolutely glowing against all the black in the room. The soft golden light bounces off of every little perfect piece of you; from the deep cupid's bow above your top lip, to the caramel highlights in your hair. He can tell by the long breath you suck in that you’re about to do that adorable thing where you ramble. “I’m nervous, but it’s an excited kind of nervous. And no, I didn’t…that thing.” 

He can’t fight the smile at your shyness, “Lesson number two, If you can’t say it then you shouldn’t be here. What thing, sweet girl?”

You close your eyes and say, “Come,” and then open your eyes to look at him again. 

So shy. So cute. I’m fucked, so very fucked, he thinks. He takes another pull of his whiskey if only to keep his hands and lips busy and to himself. He usually enjoys the burn but with you beside him it tastes sweeter.

As you bring your martini glass to your lips he commands, “One more time, this time look at me when you say it.”

Over your glass, sparkling eyes locked on him you mumble, “I didn’t come, Joel.”

“That reminds me. Lesson number three, as soon as we cross the threshold into my private room, you will refer to me as Mister Miller only. Out here, and anywhere else, I can be Joel, but in there,” he tilts his head towards a door on the other side of the stage, this one isn’t guarded, instead there’s a security pad that you need to have a microchip to unlock, “In there, I’m Mister Miller. Understand?”

He watches your throat again as you swallow, the palm of his hand tingles at the thought of wrapping his hand around it again. One of your eyebrows raises just a touch and he knows that cheeky little line of your lips. “Yes, Mister Miller.”

Your voice is husky as you say it and this time it’s him who has to fight the goosebumps rising on his skin and the icy shiver trailing down his spine. So perfect. 

“Can I ask you a question?” You don’t make eye contact with him when you say it, like you fear he might say no and he has a feeling that whoever made you feel that you needed to make plans A through Z also told you are a burden for asking questions. Joel isn’t a violent man, but would happily ring whoever’s neck did this to you.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

You turn to face him, taking a sip of your martini before you say, “Why did you send me into your basement that day?”

Joel clears his throat, weighing how transparent he wants to be in his answer, but there’s no hiding it after what he said to you in his office last week. “I’m not always going to be nice to you here, sweet girl. I’m going to push you, I might even hurt you. Yes, it’s all consensual, but I didn’t want you thinkin’ I’m some sort of monster.”

He watches as you take a long pull of the pink liquid from your glass. You set it back on the table, the earlier tremble of your hand gone as you reply, “Thank you for being honest with me. I don’t think I could ever see you as a monster, Mister Miller. I need this.”

The devious smile you give him has his cock come to life. He doesn’t fuck his subs, but he would take you right here in this booth if he could. “Would you like a tour of the club?”

Your eyes light up, “Can I bring my drink?”

“Anywhere out here, yes. But not behind those two doors.” He takes the last drink from his whiskey and then watches as you take two big gulps to finish your Cosmopolitan. Your nose crinkles at what he assumes is the burn of the vodka.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Joel says quietly, and hopefully just to himself, as he slides out of the booth.

No, you say to the little box of feelings when you overhear his whispered words, don’t start with me right now.

You follow him as he heads towards the store in the corner. Even with the condoms, dildos, plugs, gags, whips, lube and all sorts of other things on display it’s somehow still classy and beautiful. Lots of these things you’ve never seen before, or had any desire to play with, but you’re pretty sure you’d try almost anything with Joel. 

He nods at the man working the store counter and then walks you around the main area, his voice thick with passion as he speaks. “Usually on Friday and Saturday nights there's more of a nightclub feel, couples who like to swap partners can mingle with the room. This is a safe space, monogamous couples aren’t offended by the attention and everyone stays very respectful of others wishes and limits. There’s a drink limit of course, keeping things safe and consensual is my utmost priority.”  

You walk slowly, crossing the middle of the currently unoccupied dance floor, “That stage is often used for workshops or shows. This is a place to learn just as much as it’s a place to enjoy sex and kink. We have a new workshop coming up next week actually.”

The two of you stop beside the guarded door - the door Joel said people were indulging behind. You can’t help but be curious about what's happening back there, but you’re also desperately horny and unsure how you might react to whatever is unfolding in the dark. The man standing in front of the door is also dressed in a black suit, this seems to be the uniform of those who work at JM Kink, he says a cordial, “Good Evening, Joel.” Then nods at you and adds, “Miss.”

You jump as Joel’s hand connects with yours, his strong fingers linking with your slender ones. He spins you to face him. His freehand cups your chin, the band of his ring cold against your pink flushed skin. He tilts your face up to meet his, seriousness etched across his face. “My sweet girl, behind that door can be a bit intense at first. You’re an adult, but you shouldn’t have to see anything you don’t want to see. So you’re in charge in there. If you want to leave, we leave. If you want to cover your eyes, do it and I’ll lead you away. On the contrary, if you see something you like and want to get closer, then get closer. If you have questions, just ask. Ok?”

You nod, and Joel leads you through what you hope is the second life changing door of the night. The air feels different on this side of the threshold, something about it makes you feel like you’ve been plugged into a low voltage socket, you’re buzzing in an exciting and dangerous way. It’s dark enough in here that you can’t see your black boots as they click quietly against the hardwood. Joel's strong hand comes around your waist, tucking you into the side of his body protectively. After taking a deep breath, the familiar ash and leather scent of Joel intoxicating and calming your senses, you look up.

You and Joel stand intertwined at one end of a long rectangular room. Across from where you stand and down to your left and right the wall is lined with large windows. On the side of the hallway where you stand are plush chairs and couches, some of which are occupied by singles or couples as they watch what’s happening beyond the windows. 

You wonder if it gets easier, standing in a dark hall where you can watch people fucking. Joel is so calm, like a still glassy sea, meanwhile you are fighting against the tides. He stands almost statuesque, his thumb rubbing calming circles on your hip, while keeping you tucked safely into him. He has made it clear that you’re in charge here, so staying in the shadows as much as possible, you wander towards the first window. As if he’s another limb on your body, Joel follows you effortlessly. 

Your heart thumps in your chest as you approach the first window. The room has a large bed that remains untouched. A man is tied to a chair at the end of the bed with black silk ties, and you stifle a gasp at the painful looking device he has clamped around his hard cock. You can hear his whines through the ball gag, and the moans of pleasure from the woman spread eagle on the floor in front of him as she fucks herself with a large dildo.

Joel’s soft stubble brushes against your ear as he whispers, “We won’t be doing that.”

“Looks fun for me,” you giggle and he lightly pinches your hip.

The next window has the blinds drawn, little slits of light illuminating the edges is the only sign that someone is in the room. “You can choose to let people watch or not watch, as well as how much you want those in the voyeur area to hear when you rent the rooms,” Joel explains softly as you approach the next open window.

The bed in this room is occupied by three people. A curvy woman is lying down on her back, a copper skinned man with a shaved head has his face buried in her pussy while a fully tattoed beefcake of man fucks his ass. The look of pure pleasure on all their faces has your clit twitching and aching. And when Joel lowers himself to your ear the little hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

“We also won’t be doing that,” Joel’s voice is so light and carefree. For a second you forget that any minute now he’s going to use that deep baritone voice to boss you around while you’re completely naked.

“Again, it also looks fun for me,” you joke, and a small smile crosses your lips as you feel Joel’s body shake with silent laughter beside yours. There’s about ten windows in this room from what you can see, most are closed or dark, probably since it’s a weekday. You lead the two of you down the room to the next open window. “Can they see us?”

“Not unless you get close to the glass,” he instructs. You stop in your tracks at the next window. Despite your teasing with Joel the last two were not your thing, but this window you could easily watch for a while. A man and a woman lay on the large red silk sheeted bed while hundreds of battery operated candles flicker around them. He’s on top of her, one of her legs slung over his shoulder, the other around his waist. As you step closer you can see a sparkly, thin layer of sweat coating both their bodies as they slowly grind together, kissing passionately. You take another step closer, if they want to be seen then it shouldn’t matter if they see you. Once you’re close enough you can hear the gentle moans she’s making as he thrusts slowly in and out of her. 

“Well,” you say softly, leaning into Joel’s side and looking up into his warm chocolate eyes, “That doesn’t look so bad.”

He cranes his neck and places a lingering kiss on your forehead and as your eyelids flutter closed you can no longer deny just how turned on you are. He pulls back to look at you, smiling slightly before saying, “When I first got here he had her hogtied and was paddling her.”

“Like I said,” you say while giggling softly, “That doesn’t look so bad.” 

The two of you watch them for a while as they fuck languidly. This should feel wrong, watching something so personal, but the beauty of them together like this is comforting and almost inviting. Her cries grow louder and as she starts to shake he pauses his hips, fully seated inside of her while whispering and smiling down at her, pushing her sweat soaked hair off her forehead. The love behind the glass is so palpable that you feel yourself getting choked up a little. 

Just as you’re about to ask Joel to take you to his room, you notice another window with about five people lined up along the glass. Curiosity gets the better of you and you lead Joel the few steps to see what’s going on. No longer feeling nervous or shy, you step right up to the glass. This time, Joel moves his body to be behind yours, pulling your back against his strong body. One of his arms wraps around your middle, the other sweeps your hair to one side and then rests gently on your shoulder. 

The set up of this room is similar to the others you’ve seen: a large bed to the right, a chair to the left, and a chest of drawers to the back. There’s a woman strapped face up on the bed, wrists and ankles bound to the four posts of the frame. Her perky breasts rise and fall rapidly with her breathing. At the back of the room, a broad tanned man faces away from you, looking through a drawer for something. As your eyes travel up his back from his hard, round ass cheeks he spins to face the window. You step back into Joel as Tommy Miller’s gaze flicks to the people along the window and then to the sub he’s chosen for the night. 

In your sane mind you tell yourself that you should look away. It's one thing to watch strangers but watching someone you sort of know feels like an invasion of their privacy. Plus, there’s no way Joel wants to see his brother like this. As if he can read your mind, Joel's lips brush against your neck, “I’m right here, sweet girl. Tommy likes an audience, he’s an exhibitionist, and lots of members come just to watch him.” 

You glance up at Joel and he smiles softly. Your voice is just above a whisper, “Can we watch for a bit?” 

“You’re in charge, sweetheart.” He patiently reminds you as you nod and look back towards the room.

The horny demon that seems to have taken over your body since catching Joel in his office has you dying to see more: more sex, more kink, more Tommy. Without consciously controlling it, your eyes travel down his tanned chest, to the hair around his belly button and then down to his fully erect cock. You can’t help but appreciate the beauty of his body, he looks like he’s carved out of stone, and that includes his cock. He’s decently long, but thick, a prominent vein running along one side of it. It’s slightly upturned and the head is smooth and glistening with precome. He looks so powerful and the small fire that’s been building in your stomach grows.  

You bite at your bottom lip nervously, crossing your arms to rest on top of the one Joel has wrapped around you. Tommy walks over to the bed; grasped in one of his large hands is a black vibrator, his other holds a small glass jar housing a lit candle. He climbs onto the bed, then drizzles hot wax along the woman's thighs. Her back arches off the bed and through the speakers along the glass you hear her pained moans. Tommy watches her intently, his lips moving but you can’t hear what he’s saying. Once she’s settled back on the bed, Tommy places the vibrator on her clit.

She writhes and pulls at the velvety cuffs holding her to the bed. “Sir, oh god, I’m - I’m gonna - Sir, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

When she calls him sir you see the dark flash of obsidian across his eyes, the same look when you called him that at the poker game. Through your research, you know that doms have preferred names and your cheeks flush a little at the thought of accidentally using his with him. 

Tommy pulls the vibrator away right before she falls over the edge and drizzles wax on her stomach. She cries out with more desperation this time, and then again, once she’s calm Tommy places the vibrator between her thighs. It’s suddenly hard to breathe and when you step back into Joel you feel his cock is hard against your back and a fresh wave of arousal coats the lace of your panties. 

Tommy takes the vibrator away as she starts shaking and moaning, then hot wax splashes down her sternum. You feel antsy, like little pins and needles are pricking along your entire body. You squeeze your thighs together, Joel's warm breath against your neck causes you to shudder. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums.

“N-nothing.”

“You sure? You’re squirmin’.” His hand runs slowly down your arm, your hands moving on their own so he can wrap you in his muscle lined arms. A light kiss lands just below your ear and you bite back a moan.  

The combination of not being allowed to have an orgasm, the feeling of Joel’s warm body pressed against you, and the erotic scenes you’ve witnessed tonight is almost too much. It’s also not lost on you that that could have been you in there with Tommy right now. Your clit is throbbing between your legs, and you aren’t sure if you have ever been this turned on. 

Joel smiles into your skin as you watch Tommy tease his sub with the vibrator again, “Do you like what you’re seein’?”

You nod, trying to calm your breathing. It hitches as he adds, “Would you like to try that one day?”

Wax hits one of her nipples, the beads hardening along the peak of her perky, round breast. You adjust your stance to cross your legs together, squeezing hard to ease the almost painful ache at the apex of your thighs. Her and Tommy speak softly to one another, he smiles down at her, puts the candle down and then adjusts himself between her legs, spreading the lips of her puffy pussy with two fingers and putting the vibrator right where you know it would ruin you. 

“Would you?” Joel repeats.

“Yes, Mister Miller.” You say, your voice shaky, almost like it’s impossible to form words as you look up at him. He’s so beautiful in the shadowy light, his tanned skin almost seems to glow against the darkness.  

His eyes dance around your face, his voice comes out soft and sensual, quiet enough for just you to hear, “Do you want to go play now, sweet girl?”

You bite your cheek to try to fight the smile, but as Joel’s eyes flick to your lips it’s no use. A shy smile tugs at the corners of your soft pink lips. “Are you going to let me come?”

He looks at you the same way he did when you drank the water and ate that toast. Pride. He’s proud of you for asking for what you want, and you can almost feel your insecurity and fear around asking for things starting to shrink. 

The softness in his voice morphs into a growl, “If you’re a good girl.”

You spin your body towards him, determination lacing your face. “I can be your good girl, Mister Miller.”

Joel’s strong fingers link with yours and a quiet giggle passes your lips as he hauls you towards a door in the shadows close to where you two entered. Truthfully, if it wasn't for the little red light on the security pad, you wouldn’t have even known there was a door there. He waves his ring past the device and after a quiet beep sounds the light flashes green and the door clicks open. He pulls you through and as soon as Joel hears the final click of the door closing he hauls you over his shoulder. Your squeal at your world literally turning upside down with his brute strength melts into an aroused moan as his strong hands grasp the back of your bare thighs.

When Joel stops walking, you tear your eyes away from his perfectly sculpted ass, like these pants must be stuffed, there’s no way this man has a better ass than me. You glance up to see two other doors; assumingly belonging to Tommy and Tess. A familiar beep sounds in the quiet hall and your throat goes dry as he steps into his room. He takes a few long strides before sliding you down his muscle lined chest and placing you at the foot of the bed. He stays close, your breasts just barely grazing his warm body. Your gazes are locked, and even though you’ve grown comfortable with his intense need for eye contact your breathing still goes shaky and uneven. 

Oh fuck, this is it. 

His hand cradles your cheek, “You read and signed off on everything in the app, but I want to reiterate a few things, baby girl.”

You swallow hard, his finger now tracing down your throat and you swear you can feel every whorl of his fingertips as they trail along your soft skin. 

“From now on, you belong to me and I belong to you. No one else. You are not allowed to come unless I say.” 

His hand continues its road trip of your body, settling to wrap around the nape of your neck. “Y-Yes, Mister Miller.” 

“I have a no sex rule. I’ll give you orgasms, I’ll fuck you with my fingers and toys, even my tongue, but not my cock. I need you to understand that my rule is nothing against you, sweetheart. Are you ok with that?”

“Yes, sir, Mister Miller,” you coo. The nervous excitement from early has returned, every bit of skin that he’s touching is almost humming, butterflies with sharp wings scrape at your stomach. You bring your hands to the lapels of his expensive blue suit, fisting the soft fabric.  

“Fuuck,” he moans, “That sounds so pretty coming out of your mouth, sweet girl.” 

You smile up at him. He squeezes the back of your neck gently, his other hand cradling your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The rough pad of his thumb caresses your chin. “Nothin’ tonight that will require a safeword-”

“Stegosaurus,” you say eagerly, cutting him off. It’s silly really, but that little dinosaur on top of his coffee machine is what first intrigued you about the anonymous millionaire whose home had been assigned to you to clean. It also has some sort of meaning to him, so it seemed only natural for that to be your safeword. 

He smiles, laughing gently, “Not tonight, baby. If you want to stop tonight, just say so and I’ll stop. Ok?” 

Your pussy flutters at the unexpected moments to come, but a gnawing anxiety starts to claw at your chest. You’re not sure what causes the shift, but suddenly you go from excited nervous to just plain nervous. Am I ready to give up control? What if he sees me naked and doesn’t like it. He said it was only me, what if he regrets that decision? 

Your chest tightens, the knife-winged butterflies multiplying and traveling up your throat. Joel must sense a shift in you, he steps closer to you and softens his eyes as they dance around your face, a silent sign that he’s patiently waiting for you. If you said you wanted to go home you know he would kiss you softly and call your new friend Cap, but you don’t want that. You want this, you want whatever is about to happen; you just need to let go.

Vulnerability is thick in your voice as you break one of his rules and murmur, “J-Joel?” 

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice waivers, making you feel a little bit better. 

“I’m nervous.” 

He lowers his head towards yours, running the tip of his hooked nose down the slender bridge of yours. You close your eyes and take him all in. He’s warm and hard, yet somehow so soft. His familiar ash and leather scent is mixed with the expensive whiskey he drank earlier. 

“So am I, sweet girl,” he whispers into your lips before kissing you softly. You melt into him, his hands moving to cup your face. His soft lips sponge against yours and everything quiets. You’re not sure how he does it, but kissing him feels like dunking your head under water, everything silences, all the nervousness dissipates. It’s just the two of you, floating in tandem in an endless void. 

He’s nervous too? Because of me? I make this strong, successful, brooding man nervous? Your inner voice of anxiety starts to settle. I’m safe here.

The comfort of your thoughts is enough to have you pulling yourself into Joel more. You increase the intensity of your kiss, turning your head and parting your lips slightly. He follows suit, running his soft tongue along yours. The air in the room has morphed, it’s saturated with passion and arousal. With just one kiss he’s managed to erase all your fears and worries, your mind is silent and ready for whatever instructions he’s going to give you. When he pulls away your both panting for breath.

He turns his back to you, sliding his dark blue suit jacket down, the white t-shirt underneath clinging with perfection to the muscle and sinew that pack on top of each other along his back. He drapes his jacket over a padded bench about five feet away from you; you know from your extensive research that that’s a spanking bench. He spins to face you, slipping his gold and black ring off his hand, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he drops it in a dish on top of a low chest of drawers on his left. You can’t describe it, but the sound of the gold clashing with the ceramic dish puts you in a trance. Like a ritualistic symbol that you are his now.

His hands slip into his pockets, his voice taking on its deep dominant tone, “We are going to start now. You can stay fully clothed or you can get as undressed as you feel comfortable being. I’m serious here, sweet girl. Leave on as little or as much as you want. When you’re done, lay face up on the bed.”

Without thinking your hands fly back to the zipper on your boots, you unzip them and toe them off. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the hem of your sweater dress and pull it up and over your body. As your vision is temporarily blocked by the knitted fabric you can feel his eyes on your bare skin. You’re left in just a matching nude bra and panty set. He’s already seen your tits so you don’t hesitate to unclasp your bra and let it fall away from your body. 

Joel swallows hard and licks his lips. “Beautiful,” he mumbles appreciatively and it coats your skin in warmth. 

You hesitate for a moment with your thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties. You know they’re soaked through, and you’re sure he can see that from where he’s standing. He’s so fucking good at reading you, so you’re not surprised when he says, “Only take off what you feel comfortable with, my sweet girl.” 

“I do…I am…I w-want to…I just,” you fiddle with the band a bit. 

“You can say it.” He nods encouragingly.

“I like having them taken off me. I - I want to see your face up close when you…when you see it for the first time.” 

Joel smirks, popping his hip out to lean on the spanking bench. “See what the first time?” 

“Don’t make me say it, Mister Miller.” 

He clicks his tongue at you, “Mmm, but I love hearing that pretty little mouth say dirty words.” You stay silent, chewing your cheek as he continues. “Come on…say it. Say, I want to see your face up close when you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.”

You feel your cheeks flush. Earlier tonight he asked you to look at him when you say it, so you roll your shoulders back and hold your head high. As confidently as possible you say, “I want to see your face up close when..” you take a shaky inhale, “When you see my cunt for the first time, Mister Miller.” 

Before the last syllable has left your lips he’s across the room, lifting you off the ground by the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around him and gasp at the sudden pressure right where you’re aching for him. 

“I have memorized every answer from your preferences,” he growls into your collar bone, walking you around the bed. “I have strategically planned what I’m going to teach you and then you say stuff like that and fuck. I have to fight every sick and twisted thought I have, sweet girl.” He climbs onto the bed, laying you down just how he wants you, “You have no idea what you do to me. How out of control you make me feel.” 

Joel shuffles his body down, kissing down your sternum before cupping your tits. Pushing them together and sucking one of your nipples into his hot mouth. This is exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about since that moment in his office. His tongue is warm and soft as it flicks across your hardening nipple. He lightly rolls the other one between his fingers.  

“Please - oh god - please Mister Miller.” You moan needily. You try to arch into him, but his large body holds you down. 

He grazes his teeth along your nipple then looks up at you, “I’m gonna take care of you. Just relax.” 

You can’t take your eyes off him as he dives back in. Sucking and biting at your other nipple. You plant your feet on the mattress, hands tangling into his hair, as you try to grind your aching clit into his warm, hard stomach. 

“Stay still sweetheart,” He says between suckles. 

“I c-can’t. Please.”

He pinches both nipples hard, harder than you’re used to, and you whimper, freezing your hips. His voice is as deep as the obsidian in his gaze, “Stay still. I’m going to make you come. I promise. You need to trust me, relax.” 

The pressure on your nipples eases and you pout before letting yourself melt back into the mattress. He smirks, a dimple carving itself in the patchy scruff of his cheek. “That’s my girl. You like your nipples being played with?” 

The pad of his thumb ghosts over the tops of them, you shiver and moan, “Uh-huh.”

“Good. Then you’re going to enjoy what I have planned tonight.” He kisses your forehead and then climbs off the bed. You rise on your elbows, watching him as he pads across the room to a chest of drawers. He toes off his brown dress shoes and removes his belt before digging through a drawer. The actions were so simple, yet the domesticity of them has you fighting with your little box of feelings again.

No, you tell it silently as it inches out of the darkness. I am his sub and nothing more. The box seems to have grown a very annoying and persistent personality and it almost says, ‘but he’s nervous too’ back at you. 

He turns back to face you, snapping you out of your fight with the imaginary box in your brain. The same vibrator Tommy had is clasped in one hand, his other is palm up, cupping something that he’s shaking much like a gambler does with dice. 

“My sweet girl, you put a five for nipple clamps. Remind me, have you ever used them before?”

“No, Mister Miller.” 

He wanders lazily back over to the bed, and if he was anyone else you’d tell him to hurry up, but you never want to rush a single moment with Joel Miller. On top of that, you need to let him take control; he said he was going to make you come if you just relax and trust him, so that’s exactly what you’re going to do. He places the vibrator on the small table beside the bed and then sits beside you, holding out his free hand to help you sit up. 

He holds the clamps out to you and explains softly, “These are beginner clamps. See this little dial? I can control how tight they are.”

You watch his thick fingers along the dainty metal of the clamps, he’s so soft yet could have you crying with the snap of his fingers if he wanted. A fresh wave of arousal floods between your thighs completely ruining the panties he still hasn’t taken off your body. You nod and whisper, “Ok.”

“You control what happens here tonight. If you tell me that it hurts too much or to stop, I will.”

It’s time to show Joel just how good of a girl you can be, you look at him through your eyelash and sweetly coo, “Yes, Mister Miller.” 

A deep growl rumbles in his chest, “Fuck. Lay down..now.” 

You lay back, hair fanning around you. Joel stays seated on the edge of the bed beside you and lightly places the first clamp on your right nipple. It’s a light pinching pressure and it feels so good that your eyes flutter shut and you melt into the bed. He puts the next clamp on and you whimper. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, his strong hands gripping your hips, pushing you into the mattress and grounding you in the warm pleasure that floods your stiff nipples.  

“S-so good Mister Miller,” you groan. You’re almost convinced this is another dream, he’s doing almost exactly what you have imagined countless times. You open your eyes to watch him, determined to visually take in every single thing he gives you. 

“Good, baby. I want you to feel good. I’m gonna tighten them now, jus’ a little.” He twists the little knob. You start breathing heavily, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You bring your hands to his strong, warm forearms as you suck in air.

“Too much?”

Your chest heaves at the delicious feeling flooding your tits. “No, no. More. P-Please, more. More.”

“Good girl,” he hums deeply, the words settling right behind your clit as he tightens the tiny clamps more. The warmth around your nipples spreads to your arms and down your sides. When you cry out he asks, “Pain or pleasure, sweet girl?”

At this point you aren’t sure, it definitely hurts, but it also feels good, and his deep brown eyes are looking at you the same way they always do, full of concern and care, almost like he’s assessing you. 

“Both. Both, oh fuck. More, Mister Miller.” He kisses the left one gently and you arch into him, “More, more, please.”

“That’s as tight as they go, are you sure you want more?”

You keep your eyes on him, nodding fervently, “Yes. Please, yes.”

He pops them off and you gasp out in pain, heat rushes to both your nipples and it burns in white hot passion. Joel blows cool air along both of them and you can’t seem to stop your mumbling begging, “More. I need more. Please!”

“I know, baby. I got you.” He opens the drawer on the bedside table and takes out two gold plated clamps. You look down, your nipples already look sore, tinged slightly purple. “I’m so fucking proud of you already. Askin’ so nicely like the good girl I know you are. Goddamn, look at these stiff, perky, perfect little nipples. I love seeing you like this, seeing them like this. Are you wet for me? Are those flimsy lace panties soaked through?”

He places one of the new clamps and you cry out a ‘yes’. 

“Ya? Just dripping and desperate for me?” He puts the other clamp on as you chant a chorus of yes’s and oh god’s. 

Joel

Joel knew that tonight would either make or break him. As his name spills sweetly from your perfect pouty lips he feels it, the same tug behind his belly button that he felt with Tiffany, that his grandpa said was how he’d know when he found something special; something to hold onto. 

“Please, Mister Miller,” you murmur. He doesn’t know what it is you’re asking for, and he’s sure you don’t know either. What is it about you saying those three little words that gets him so rattled? Countless subs have called him that in the past and it never made his cock swell this painfully behind his zipper.

He taps at your nipples lightly and watches your body shudder and arch off the bed. You aren’t even fully naked and he’s fighting the urge to come right there in his pants. He loves the way your body reacts, he can already tell you’re going to look stunning as you come. 

“That feel good?” He asks, his voice deep and husky. 

“Yes. Oh god, yes!” You haven’t taken your eyes off him and he loves how your eyelids have become hooded from the pleasure while your brows furrow with the pain.

“Does it hurt?” Your cheeks are flushed pink making the colour of your eyes pop.

“Yes,” just as he’s convincing himself to remove the clamps you moan, “Please don’t stop.” 

Joel grabs the vibrator from the bedside table before sliding his body down the bed. He starts kissing at your hip bone before wrapping his teeth around the slender band of your panties. Your eyes dart down to him, this is what you asked for; to his face the first time he sees your cunt. He pulls your panties with his teeth, smiling against your soft upper thigh when you instinctively lift your hips to help him. As he shimmies down the bed his eyes stay on your face.

He gets to the end of the bed, standing with your soaked through thong still between his teeth. He relaxes his jaw, dropping the panties in his hand and bringing them to his face. “God fuckin’ damn, sweet girl. You smell so fuckin’ sweet. Imma crave that smell when you aren’t around.” He tucks your panties into the pocket of his four thousand dollar, custom made Tom Ford suit. As far as he’s concerned, that drenched thong is the most expensive and important thing he now owns. 

He trails his eyes down your sternum, your legs are straight out in front of you, not parted, but he can see your puffy pink clit pushing through the soft looking outer lips. He feels himself switching into full dom mode. The room around him fades away, everything outside of you and this room doesn’t matter anymore.

“Show me,” he growls. “Spread those gorgeous legs and show me that perfect little cunt.”

He crawls up the bed, following the path you make as you bend both knees up. He feels like a starved dog who’s about to get a meal. Your feet stop, and as he hovers above you, gaze wholly fixated on your core, you relax your legs and your knees butterfly open. God he loves how eager you are, how good of a listener you can be. He licks his lips as your outer thighs finally meet the soft sheets, baring yourself for him completely. He stops breathing as your lips part, sticky with arousal. Your pussy is swollen and glistening, your needy clit puffy and pink. 

A deep moan rumbles in his chest as he lowers himself to the be, his face between your legs. Once he’s close enough he can see the tight little hole he’s vowed not to fuck. “Shit, sweetheart. This is goin’ to be so much harder than I thought.”

Your cries wash over him; he’s experienced enough to know that it’s from your nipples hardening under the clamps at his words. He smirks up at you, “How are you so wet already?”

“You, Mister Miller.”

“That right? Me playin’ with those nipples get you all turned on?”

“Uh-huh, and you said I couldn’t touch myself. I’ve been like this for days.” Your bottom lip pokes out and it absolutely ruins him, but he pushes down the overwhelming need to fix it and give you exactly what you need. No, you want to experience being a submissive, and that’s what he’s going to do. 

“Poor baby,” he mocks, tsking at you. He kisses right above your clit and you gasp. He’s close enough to know the heat of his breath is going to have you squirming and he can’t wait to watch how beautiful you’ll look doing it. “So wet. Smells so good. Fuck, She’s right in front of me but I already miss her. You look so soft and tight. Goddamn, you’re gonna have me breakin’ all my rules, sweet girl.”

“Please touch me. Please.”

“Mmmm, such a good girl for asking so nicely. I can’t say no when you beg like that, baby, makes me weak.” He kisses the crook of your inner thigh, he knows how much he’s teasing you right now, he watches you get wetter by the second, the beautiful folds of your pussy opening like a flower in the sun for him and flushing a deeper pink and the blood courses to your most sensitive parts.  

“I need you Mister Miller,” your voice waivers as you say his name, and you blink a little harder, he knows you’re fighting back the tears and it makes his cock throb harder, the teeth of his zipper practically digging into him.

After what feels like hours, he finally brings a thick finger to tease at your entrance. You buck into him, desperate for the friction.  

“Don’t make me tie you up. Stay still for me, please.” Even with the please at the end, it’s a command - deep and serious, and you don’t dare test him. Your nipples stiffen every time he speaks, and they ache under the clamps, it’s the perfect twinge of pain to heighten the bits of pleasure he’s giving you. 

You press your lips in a tight line, hands grounding you as they ball the sheets, focusing on keeping still. You want to shamelessly fuck yourself with his fingers; meanwhile, he’s being slow and calculated. Joel torturously draws slow little circles along the waiting hole with just the tip of his finger. He watches as your sticky white arousal coats his fingertip, then groans as he slowly pushes his middle finger all the way inside of you. You gasp at the welcome stretch and fight like hell to stay still.

“Look at you, fuck. So warm and inviting.” He slips his finger out slowly and lets out an exasperated sigh. Your heart falls into your stomach.

“Mister Miller, no. Please, it felt so good,” you practically cry at the loss at the feeling of him finally inside of you, finally giving you a taste of what you need the most.

“I know,” he shushes, “But that’s not what I have planned, not yet at least. My sweet girl, I need ya to be loud for me. I’ve been wanting this for so long. Need to hear you. Understand?”

The distinct sound of the vibrator you forgot he had comes to life and you squirm with anticipation. “Yes, Mister Miller. I will, just please, please make me feel good.” 

He reaches up, the black vibrator makes contact with your nipple and an intense pain shoots to your core before it blooms into pleasure. One of your hands leaves the sheets, fingernails digging into the forearms of the hand he has holding the vibrator and you sob out. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he groans before moving the vibrator to the other nipple, circling it around this time instead of holding it flush. “Jus’ tell me if you need me to stop.”

“Don’t, please don’t. Oh god, yes.” You know you’re screaming, you doubt anyone can hear you, but at this point you don’t care if they can. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, you slam your eyes shut and arch your back. Joel’s strong chest is warm in between your thighs, he’s so broad that he’s keeping you spread open. You grind into the soft white cotton of his t-shirt.

“Look at me. Focus, sweet girl,” you peel your eyes open to meet his gaze. Warm coffee and hazel eyes stare down at you. “Stay still, please.”

“I can’t - aah!” He presses hard on your sore nipple and it brings you back into your own body. You manage to still your hips and release your grip, leaving behind little crescent shaped indents in his muscle lined forearm.

“Good girl,” he praises and then pulls the vibrator away from your breasts. His free hand comes to your mound, he swallows hard before breaking eye contact, pulling his hand back and looking at your puffy, and completely exposed bundle of nerves. A devious uptick of the right side of the mouth sets your blood on fire before he taps lightly at your clit once with the soft head of vibrator.

You cry out in pleasure. 

He taps again and you gasp out loudly.

He taps a third time and you’re almost certain that this is how you’re going to die. No man has ever teased you like this. You’re desperate to come, your body breaking out in sweat, but you never want Joel to stop. Moans and whines are pouring out of you without you even realizing it, he looks so fucking beautiful between your thighs, staring at your pussy like it’s the sunrise over the ocean, like he’s never seen anything as beautiful or fascinating and it makes your feel unstoppable. You make him look like that. Him. A man who could have anyone in the world, but here he is, looking at you like you’re his whole world.

“Let me hear you, show me how you can be a good girl,” he clicks the vibrator up and holds it tightly to your clit. The sensation is almost too much and your nipples ache under the little gold clamps.

Your body starts to shake involuntarily and your moans become longer and huskier, you’re going to come any second now. You squeeze your eyes shut and Joel pulls the vibrator away.

“No,” you gasp. “More. Please, I need more. Please.” The fear of him leaving you like this has the back of your eyes burning. Was there a time limit you weren’t aware of with the room? No, this is his private room. Right? Didn’t he say that he has a private room? And it shouldn’t matter if the club is open or closed, he’s the owner.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You blink your eyes open, trying to focus on his face, but you’re so turned on that the edges of him seem fuzzy. “That feel good? The vibrator teasing your desperately swollen clit?”

You nod your head, “Yes, again. Please, Mister Miller.”

“Tell me what you want?”

Historically, situations like this have riddled you with insecurity. You’ve never been a talker in the bedroom and as a textbook people pleaser you never, like NEVER, ask for what you want. Yes, being here fully naked with a fully clothed Joel makes you feel safer and more understood than you have ever been. You know that if you ask for anything in this room and beyond, he’d do it. 

The words leave your mouth without you even thinking about it, without second guessing or carefully planning what it is you’re going to say. “Please make me come. I’ll be so loud for you. I’ll scream and moan until I have no voice. I’ve been such a good girl and I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, please make me come.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and his voice washes over you like honey, “Good fuckin’ girl. Eyes on me and hold on.”

It happens in an instant, the vibrator flicks to the highest setting as he adjusts his body to hold you firmly against the mattress with this forearm, your hands grab onto his shoulders as he presses the soft, thick head of the sex toy right onto your clit. 

You scream and squeeze at the strong muscles of his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your system, you tense under his touch. The build of your orgasm somehow too much and not enough all at once.

“Oh god. Oh god. Yes, I’m - Mist - fuuuck.”

“I know, I’m right here.” He says darkly.

“Gonna come,” you sputter between your cries of ecstasy. You can feel that familiar tightness building.

“Relax and let go for me. Come for me, sweet girl. Let me see this beautiful little cunt twitch.”

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm rocks through you violently. You convulse with so much force that Joel grunts as he holds you down. You’re nothing but what Joel is giving you, not a single thought or insecurity, not a single worry about studying or school, you’re just what Joel has made you and it feels fucking fantastic. His dark onyx eyes swallow you whole. 

The pleasure of your orgasm, mixed with the pain in your nipples is so much more than you’ve ever known, and Joel’s deep gravel filled voice praises you the whole time.

‘There’s my girl.’

‘Sooo good for me.’

‘Fuck, that’s it my sweet girl.’ 

‘Beautiful when you scream for me.’

It starts to become too much. Your throat is hoarse from screaming. As your nails start to dig deep into his shoulders Joel slows the vibrator down and holds it lightly to your twitching clit as the aftershocks course through you. He releases your body from his and kisses your hip bone before shutting the vibrator off completely. 

He’s stills between your thighs, your hands resting on his shoulders. Joel smiles up at you sweetly and you pull at his t shirt to encourage him to crawl on top of you. He doesn’t hesitate, bringing his stong body on top of yours, resting his forearms on each side of your head. 

“Do I have your consent to kiss you?” He whispers.

“Yes,” you coo. His mouth meets yours similar to how it did when you both confessed to being nervous. It’s soft and lingering as you take shaky, calming breaths through your nose. That annoying little box of feelings shivers in the corner of your mind and you mentally put a piece of packing tape over the lid. 

You end this kiss this time, pushing your head into the pillow. “I’m gonna grab some cooling spray and take those clamps off now, is that okay?”

You nod and hum in agreement. Your eyelids and muscles feel heavy and sated. Joel's warm body parts from yours and a chill runs up your spine. When he releases the first clamp you whimper, the burning ache goes away as soon as he sprays it with a cooling coconut scented mist. When he removes the second one, your pussy clenches around nothing, a small but powerful orgasm waves through you as the cool droplets of the aftercare spray land on your pebbled breast.

“Did you just come?” Joel questions proudly.

Your hands cover your face as you blush harder than you have in years, “Yeah.”

Joel’s warmth encompasses you again as he climbs back on top of you, he gently pulls your hands away by your wrists. “Fuck, baby. I think I’m addicted to you.” He kisses the tip of your nose, “Such a good girl.”

You shiver underneath him and he rolls the two of you so he can wrap the blanket around you, your head rests on his chest, your body half on him and half on the soft bed. He holds you tightly, his meaty hands rubbing any place they can over the fluffy down filled cocoon he’s got you in. 

A comfortable silence falls around the two of you, your breaths in sync with one another. Your eyelids flutter closed, and that little voice starts to come back, lacing you with insecurity. You don’t want to ask, but you have to. You clear your throat quietly and ask, “Are you seeing any other subs?”

“No,” he replies softly, his lips brushing the top of your head. “But I haven’t told all of them yet. The dom/sub relationship is a delicate one. I can’t exactly just message them on the app that it’s over.”

You settle deeper into him. “What else do you have planned for us?”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “I’m going to show you everything you want to know.”

A fire burns in your stomach, “When?”

Joel lets out a small laugh, then tilts your chin up, pulling back a little so he can look at you. “You’re so fucking cute when you’re eager. I have to go out of town tomorrow, but we’ll make sure to find time when I’m back this weekend.”

Him leaving is a bit of a blessing in disguise for you. “I take the LSAT again on Friday, so I guess this gives me lots of study time.”

He cranes his neck to sponge his lips to yours, the scruff of his mustache tickles a little and you giggle into his kiss. “How long have you owned the club?”

“Almost five years,” he replies.

You let an impressed hum, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds are your mixed breathing and his calloused hand along the blanket. You remember all the times tonight that he called you ‘my sweet girl’ and you wonder if he’s feeling the same way you are, or if he’s so used to all of this that it’s just second nature to him. The packing tape on that fucking box starts to peels as if to say ‘he was nervous too and it’s only you’.

After a while Joel breaks the silence. “Becoming a lawyer is a pretty intense process. Your family must be really proud of you.”

“Umm, well, I actually don’t really know,” you say.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Joel says lightly and you know he means it. You know he would never push you to give him something you didn’t want to, he might push your sexual limits, but never your personal ones, and for whatever reason that almost makes it easier to tell him.

You roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your forearms on his chest. For a second you let your eyes look around the room. You were so focused on Joel earlier that you didn’t notice the rings and hooks along the black steel bed frame; or the paddles and ropes hanging on the wall next to a ladder and St Andrews Cross. In classic Joel fashion, everything is black and softly lit. Everything but the bed sheets which are plush and white. 

You take a deep breath, resting your chin on your hands, and start, “I don’t want pity for this, truthfully I’m grateful that this is my reality, but my parents had me when they were very young and they were both very selfish when I was growing up. Never abusive or anything, and not neglectful in a physical way, but emotionally I was left alone a lot. I realized early on that if I excelled in something they would show up, and for a long time that felt really fucking good. But as soon as I hit high school I realized they were showing up for themselves. They’d brag about me to other adults, but not actually congratulate me. They’d show up to honour roll ceremonies, but not with me or for me, it was so they could say I was their daughter. They didn’t help me get those grades, I did that on my own. And I’m still doing that on my own.”

Joel’s eyes soften, those two permanent lines between his eyebrows disappearing. “That explains so much, my sweet girl. I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

The tape on the box of feelings snaps as the lid flies off. Not now, you scold.

“I know, but honestly, I don’t really need anyone to take care of me. I’ve made it this far and I plan on making it the rest of the way the only way I know how.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” He asks.

“Doesn’t this?” you say gently, gesturing to the room.

“No,” he blinks at you a few times. “I was in my early twenties when my wife died. I needed to focus on raising Sarah, but I’m still an adult male with needs, so I found the world of BDSM and kink. It allowed me to get what I wanted, and what my partner wanted, without the attachment of a relationship.” His words are so real and honest and in just those few sentences you feel like you know Joel Miller more deeply than you know anyone else.

“My way doesn’t get lonely either,” you say with a smile, tucking your head back into his chest.

Joel

Your breathing is calm and heavy, it kills him that he’s going to have to wake you up. Usually his aftercare doesn’t involve opening up about his past like this. He’s not a monster, but he is very strict about keeping his kink life and his real life separate. Something about you though has him opening up about Tiffany and Sarah.

“Baby,” he whispers into the crown of your head, shaking you a little. “We can’t sleep here, I’m sorry.”

You blink up at him and his heart ceases at how beautiful you look all sleepy and supple. He finds himself unconsciously memorizing the little details of your face. Your lips are puffy from his kisses and you have a little mascara smudge under your eye. He thumbs the black make up away gently and says, “Let me help you get dressed and then Cap will take you home, ok?”

You nod lazily and he helps you gently roll off him. He stands and starts to gather your clothing. After a few minutes of looking around he huffs, “Where are your panties?”

A tiny giggle sounds from the cloud of white blankets, the sound shooting straight through his belly button, “Check your pockets.”

He laughs at himself, reaching into his pants pocket to pull out your lacy nude thong. He helps you sit up, “I’m keeping these, by the way.”

“Should I be expecting my panties to go missing every time?” You say jokingly as you take your bra from him and put it on. 

He nods and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Good, really good actually,” After you put your bra on he pulls your dress over your head and then kneels to help you with your boots. “I - umm - I was hoping that this would help turn my brain off for a while and it did. I feel, I don’t know. Recharged almost?”

This is exactly why he loves kink, it’s an escape from the world for him and his sub. He kisses your knee and moves to the other boot. “Good, that’s what is supposed to happen.”

He pulls you to your feet and allows you to steady yourself before pulling you in for a hug. “Thank you for tonight,” he whispers. He hopes you know that he needs this as much as you do, how much this helps him clear his mind and reground himself.

After closing the door to the town car and sending you home he goes back into the club, waving for a whiskey and joining Tommy at the bar top.

“She was pretty,” Tommy says, clinking his glass against Joel’s.

“Yep,” he swirls the amber liquid in the cup.

“New?” Tommy asks.

“Yep,” Joel repeats and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m fucked, Tommy.”

Tommy puts his glass down and turns to face Joel, gripping his shoulder. “Are you ending it with all your other subs for this girl?”

Joel takes a long sip from his crystal highball glass. Repeating the only word he seems to know lately, “Yep.”

Tommy lets out a breath, “Shit. Ya, you’re definitely fucked.”

“Tiff told me to find someone who scares me. This fucking scares me, man.” Joel finishes off his whiskey, and even though there’s a drink limit, the glass is refilled before it’s even hit the table. “This is - I just - I ain’t felt like this in a long time.”

Tommy smiles at Joel, “I’m happy for ya, man. And look, as long as you aren’t keepin’ her panties then it’s probably not as bad as you think.” 

Joel pulls that nude thong from his pocket and puts it on the bar top as he finishes off his second glass of whiskey and then waves the bartender off, silently signaling that he’s done. 

“Shit, so you are fucked then?” Tommy laughs. 

“We didn’t,” Joel says defensively, brows pulling together.  

“I didn’t ask if you fucked. I said you are fucked.” Tommy shakes his head at his older brother. 

Joel runs a hand down his face and through his scruff. “Look, you gonna be ok this week while I’m in Paris?”

“Ya, me and Tess got it.” He claps Joel’s back roughly as he stands. “Safe travels, hey?”

Joel nods and waves over his head at his brother. He hasn’t fucked you or let you suck his cock yet and he’s already feeling all turned around. But god, the way your body twitched in response to him, the way you melt into his arms every time he kisses you. How brave and confident you were after overcoming the shyness of asking for what you want. He can’t wait to teach you more, but he’s going to have to find a way to not let whatever feelings he might be having get in the way. 

Next chapter

[retroaria]

HI ! I love your writing is it okay if you write nagi nsfw hcs ??

You know I totally forgot about my boy nagi so thank you for requesting this and making me lock in. :)

cw: aged up to 18+, MDNI!!!, afab!reader, honestly nothing too crazy, nagi ain’t a freak like that.

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 😉 - aria | @aaliyah0022

Nagi Seishiro: NSFW Headcanons

I know it’s all anyone ever writes about but lazy sex with nagi is just a given. Sometimes you’ll be spooning and- oh! Yup, that’s his dick inside of you. (obviously he asked first consent is key). He tends to keep a steady yet sloppy pace when it’s like this, isn’t worried about you not cumming bc he can go on for forever in this position so trust me you will cum (not to mention he’s big enough to give you that nice stretchy feeling and hit all those sweet spots). His arms completely wrapped around your torso, hands roaming wherever they please, his hot breath and subtle groans deep into the crook of your neck, him thanking you afterwards. It’s like heaven.

While Nagi isn’t the most experienced partner he is definitely very open and willing to learn. The first time he made you cum gave him an epiphany. Seeing you like that, face contorted in pleasure, moaning his name in between brainless whimpers, walls clenching around him. This was a victory he was willing to work for.

Nagi in bed can be very different from Nagi at any other time. His careless lazy demeanor fades away and he becomes a needy, starving servant to the act. He even talks more during sex than he usually does. He’ll seriously drop whatever he’s doing at the time (even a league match, he’d risk it all). If you tell him you want him, let your hands roam his body and pull him into a sultry kiss, he’s all yours. “Where do you want me, baby?” He’d say in a low groan, ready to heed your every request.

He’s rarely selfish, finding that he gets off on pleasing you. He’s unashamed of the amount of times he’s came whilst rutting his hips against the bed like a needy dog with his head between your thighs, listening to the sounds of your pleading moans and your soaking cunt.

His favorite position is definitely the spooning one I mentioned before. Just fucking into you from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck, one arm latched around you, fingers toying with your clit. He knows he looks like a feverish animal while doing it but it feels too good to care. Nagi is also a sucker for having you on top, riding and grinding on his cock as you need, using it to please your insides and holding onto him for dear life. He likes when you wrap your hands around his neck while you grind down on him, “Hahh~ god, love it when you use me like this- fuck”

Unlike Reo, he is not a fan of sharing. I’d imagine him trying to have a threesome but then regretting it when he realizes he hates every second you spend letting your attention fall on the other person and not him. Lets you know after that it will “never happen again” has to “re-fuck” you afterwards too bc chances are he couldn’t even get off during it. “I like you better like this, all mine, all for me.”

Nagi loves telling you he loves you during sex and he means it from the bottom of his heart. He doesn’t like sex that isn’t intimate which makes him rather against quickies. If he can’t have all of you for as long as he needs it feels like a waste of effort.

He’s not big on toys either. “Why do you need that? I have a mouth you know, hands too. Am I not good enough?” (He’s so dramatic smh) He’s fine with you using them when he’s not around, he even likes when you send him videos of you playing with yourself for him. Nagi has a collection in his photos app of your fucked out face and pretty body underneath him. He jerks off VERY often when you guys are separated, like multiple times a day, or at least he tries to. He has a hard time actually making himself cum sometimes because he gets frustrated that he doesn’t have you to do it for him and bored. He’ll just give up usually, sending you a picture of his sad, hard cock with a sad face emoji.

LOVES phone sex. When he’s having a hard time getting off without you around, he’ll call you and cum to the sound of your voice. Doesn’t like doing it through FaceTime, as much as he loves to see you, it’s just a hassle (same nagi, same). Loves when you guide him through it, telling him how to touch himself and tease himself until you hear his broken moans of your name on the other end and you promptly receive another photo of his cock with his cum dripped all over his lower stomach, but this time with a smiley face emoji

Nagi is an EXTREMELY good kisser and they are almost always sensual. He’s so loose and gentle with his lips on yours, tongue sweeping through your mouth. It genuinely feels like heaven, for both of you. He knows he’s a good kisser and uses it to his advantage. Any time your mad at him for something stupid he shuts you up with a needy kiss, any time he’s too tired to say what he wants he locks his lips with yours and lets his feverish hot breath say everything he needs you to know.

His list of turn-on’s is pretty random. He likes when you’re better than him at something, thinks it’s really hot when you beat him at games, if you play a sport that you’re really good at that turns him on too. He likes when you get defensive of yourself or him. Likes when you get angry but the pouty kind of angry bc when you’re actually mad he gets a little scared lol. Of course he likes the usual stuff too like seeing you in his clothes, sexy lingerie, revealing outfits, etc. you usually call him Nagi or Sei but hearing you say his full first name “Seishiro”, especially in a doting voice, it flips a switch in his brain and makes him putty in your hands. If you say it while he’s fucking you he’ll literally whimper.

[cheolhub]

WHAT YOU NEED — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. wonwoo knows how shy you get telling him what you want, but he’ll get you to use your words one way or another.

wc. 2.5k

warnings. mean-ish soft dom!wonwoo, sub! reader, corruption kink + slight humiliation kink! lots of teasing from wonwoo, lots of begging from reader, pet names [love, baby, sweet girl], dirty talk [😵‍💫], possessiveness (reader is so into it), heavy praise, unprotected sex, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s been months… hellooo… i forgot how to write so forgive me for the shitty plot lol. this is me attempting to get back into the writing world 🤓 hopefully ONE of u enjoys this <3 p.s. i’m srsly in my wonu era

“remember what i said, love,” wonwoo murmured, soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “if you want something, you gotta use your words.”

you hated this– everything about this– the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice that shoots heat straight to your core, him in general. he’s well aware of the fact that you can’t stand it at this moment, but that doesn’t put an end to his teasing. 

your back arches off his chest as you feel the ghost of his fingers over your painfully wet cunt, covered in a pair of cotton panties. “wonwoo…” you whine, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. “please…”

he merely chuckles, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “please what?”

when you and wonwoo started dating, you were so shy. so shy and so, so sweet. you’d never been with anyone before him, and of course he felt bad that he was the one to rob you of your innocence, but he was filled with a sense of pride (and urgency) when he’d found out he was the one to corrupt you and ruin you for everyone else. 

and he was gentle. yes, jeon wonwoo was so, very gentle, handling you like a pretty doll while coaxing orgasms out of you left and right with his hands and mouth till your body was slack and you were nothing but a puddle of tears. he got you ready for his cock and you took it well. then you took it again. and again. and again, till you and him both knew you were his and he was yours. 

it got to the point where you’d crave him at the most inconvenient times. while you were running errands, at work, at dinner with your friends– it was almost insufferable. 

but he always took care of you. all you had to do was ask and he’d be there at your beck and call with whatever you wanted, whether it was with his mouth, fingers or cock. 

he always makes you ask because wonwoo’s taken a certain… liking… to making  you say the filthiest things. he knows it makes you nervous, but that’s why he thinks he loves it. he loves your stammering and how he can feel the heat radiating from your body. it’s cute.

which is why you’re in your current predicament, sat between his legs, your own spread over his with your back pressed to his chest after sending an innocent ‘come over, please? <3’ text. 

“don’t make me say it, won… it’s…it’s unbecoming. just… please.”

usually, he’s not so adamant on getting you to say exactly what you want. all you had to do was say please, and he was all yours. 

but no, not today apparently. 

“there’s nothing unbecoming about it, my love.” he noses at your neck, his breath fanning over your racing pulse and eliciting your soft shudder. “just tell me what you invited me over for and i’ll give it to you.”

“please… touch me.” you whisper, heat creeping from where his lips are on your to neck all the way up to the tips of your ears. 

you can feel his shit-eating grin and you want to scream at him, but your need for him is much more profound than your desire to slap him in the face for teasing you to this extent. 

his hands rub up and down your arms and you hear his smile when he asks, “like this?”

you groan, shaking your head, “you know what i mean!” 

“i don’t know what you mean, actually. can you dumb it down for me?” 

you mentally curse him out, but you try to steady your breathing before you speak again. “touch me… down… there.” you attempt to say, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

wonwoo’s uncharacteristically large hands find your tummy and you want to sob when he asks, “here?” you shake your head. “words.” the demand vibrates through you and you let you an embarrassing whimper.

“lower,” you whisper, unable to trust your voice. “please, wonwoo.”

he runs his fingers down your abdomen and trails them down your thighs. you can’t help the cry that leaves your mouth. “mean. you’re so mean.”

“you can say it, sweet girl.” he whispers. “it’s not unbecoming. it’s not inappropriate. it’s fucking hot. i want you to tell me exactly what you want and i swear to god i’ll give it to you.”

you sniffle, frustrated and slightly embarrassed, but you stutter out in the softest voice he’s ever heard you use, “please touch my pussy, wonwoo.”

you think it feels awkward and gross coming out of your mouth with your voice, but wonwoo… wonwoo groans, hand immediately slipping into your panties. “good fucking girl.” he grumbles as his fingers find your clit. 

you jolt at the contact but melt into him just as quickly. “fuck,” you whimper, thankful that you’re finally receiving the touch you’ve been craving for the past half hour. “f-faster, please.”

wonwoo’s chest swells with that familiar sense of pride again as he hears your beg. he obliges, the rough pads of his fingers circling the swollen, pleading bud. “you’re so fucking wet…”

you moan, head falling back on his shoulder. your face burns like never before as you get out, “f-for… you. ‘m wet for you.”

wonwoo isn’t always vocal, but when he is? he’s loud. so the moan that slips from his mouth startles you a bit. 

“that’s right, all for me.” he grunts, possessiveness lacing his voice causing the jostling of butterflies in your tummy. “all fucking mine, forever mine.”

you change your mind at this– you love the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice, him especially. 

“always yours.” you nod vigorously, body writhing as he quickens the movement of his fingers. 

wonwoo doesn’t have much self-control when it comes to you, so it’s taking everything in him to not flip you over and fuck you till all you can say is yours, yours, always yours. instead, he opts for trying to get more out of your pretty mouth. “how do you feel, baby? tell me how much you like my fingers playing with this pretty little cunt.”

it’s so filthy, but you can’t help but arch your back at the sound of his words. “love them s’much, wonwoo. feels s’good.”

he’s sure you do feel good, he’s a skilled man after all, but he knows you probably need more. 

“yeah?” he responds breathily, cock aching at the validation and how pretty you sound saying his name. “this enough to make you cum, or do you want more?”

your brain fogs over at the thought of more. you can nearly taste ecstasy on the tip of your tongue and you don’t doubt that you could get off with just his fingers, yet… the idea of being filled to the brim with his fingers or his cock is much more compelling. 

“more.” you breathe in reply. 

“what was that?” he teases, fingers slowing down. 

there’s that wicked sense of humor that makes you want to slap him across the face.

you barred your teeth before gritting, “fuck me, please. i need more. i need you, wonwoo.”

his ministrations stop and before you get the chance to complain, he’s rolling your panties down your legs and guiding you to straddle his abdomen. he slips his sweats down enough for his cock to come out and, even though you can’t see it, you can feel its looming presence. 

“take what’s yours, baby.” he stares up at you while you stare back, eyes wide. 

“y-you… you want me to…?” he knows what your unfinished question translates to and he nods and gives you a lazy smile even though you can see the burning desire in his blown out pupils.

you let out a short breath and nod, more to yourself than anything. he’s never let you have control while you’re on top, but you feel giddy that he’s giving you a chance now. you lift your hips up and take a hold of his hardened length in your hands. you run the blushy tip of his cock through your folds, eliciting a hiss from the man under you, before finally sliding down his cock. slowly, you feel every inch of him invade your pussy and it’s so good, despite the slight burn.

you forget how tight the fit is every time. even with how wet you are, you still feel your walls stretching to accommodate his size. 

you cry softly, body going limp as you finally hit the base of his cock. “won…”

“you feel so good,” he moans softly, hands finding purchase on your hips. “are you alright? does it hurt?” he manages to ask, cock twitching at the way your walls wrap around him.

you shake your head incessantly, hoping he doesn’t worry too much. “no– no, ‘m okay. j-just need to adjust.”

wonwoo nods empathetically, rubbing soothing circles into your skin to ease you. “you’re doing so well.” he whispers after a minute of silence, the only sounds being your ragged breaths and the soft hum of the air conditioning. “gonna make sure you feel so good, baby.”

you feel the heat reappear and a gush of arousal leak at the praise in his hushed voice. it inspires you to take action. 

you press your palms to his clothed abdomen, wishing he’d taken off his shirt so you can feel his skin, but you can’t be bothered to ask him to do so now. you lift your hips up his cock before letting yourself drop, a moan tumbling out of your mouth when you feel how deep he is inside you. 

you repeat the sloppy movements, stangled moans slipping with every sharp thrust as you spear yourself on his length over and over. 

it’s not till wonwoo guides you with the tight grip of his hands on your waist that you find a steady tempo, the sound of skin on skin growing louder with the mixed sounds of his grunts and your mewls. 

you slip your hands under his shirt, craving the closeness, and lightly run your nails down the skin. you feel him contract under the contact and you can’t stop the way your walls tighten around him when his hands squeeze you harder. 

the longer you ride him, the more your thighs burn. it eventually causes your speed to falter and wonwoo, ever the observer, is quick to notice. he decides you’ve had enough and bucks his hips into you, meeting you halfway while groaning out your name. 

the bulbous head of his cock rams into your sweet, special spot as he takes over and you throw your head back in utmost pleasure. tears spring to your eyes and wonwoo finds this to be the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. your tits bouncing with every push, your mouth cracked open as the prettiest sounds leave it, the way your eyebrows knit in pleasure– he makes a mental note to bring his camera next time you invite him over. 

“tell me what you need, love.” he demands yet again, words breathy and clipped as his cock throbs in between your velvet walls. “tell me what this pretty pussy needs and i’ll fucking give it to you.” his sentence ends in a growl when your nails bite into his bare skin, leaving red, crescent shapes in their wake. 

you let out a choked sob, “w-wonu–”

he sits up, using his strength to bounce you up and down at a leisure pace– one that he knows does nothing for your needy body. “don’t get shy on me now, baby, you can tell me.” he coaxes, sultry voice circling your brain. 

you swear if your body burns any hotter, you’ll explode.

your mouth opens to let out a plea, “p-please make me cum– please, i-i wanna–” your words are swallowed by him as he smashes his lips to yours. you moan his name into his mouth and he all but moans back into yours. 

you involuntarily clench around him when he hastily bucks into you while also guiding your hips on his cock. when he pulls back, he sports swollen lips and lust-ridden eyes and it makes you all the more needy for your coveted release. 

“rub your clit and get yourself off for me, yeah?” you pants before his mouth lands on one of your breasts, sucking and tugging at the peaked nipple. 

you follow instructions, two of your fingers moving to circle the swollen bud and your free hand gripping his shoulder for more support. 

at the onslaught of pleasure, the knot that’s been rapidly forming in your tummy all night tightens beyond belief and you know you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. wonwoo, being as perceptive as he is, just moans at the way you pulse uncontrollably around his cock. 

if you’ve learned anything from the teasing and the rather humbling experience you’ve had tonight, it’s that you should definitely voice what you want. 

and that’s exactly what you do. 

“i– fuck, wonwoo. i need to cum, please let me.” you beg as you get closer and closer to your anticipated release. 

he releases your nipple with a pop and nearly growls. “cum for me, baby.” 

it’s all you need to hear before a silent scream leaves your lips and white, hot pleasure runs its course. your body goes taut as the tether in your belly snaps in half, cunt and body practically spasming all the while your brain spins erratically. 

wonwoo is enthralled by the sight and feeling of you. the grip he has on you is near bruising as he watches you fall apart on him– feels you fall apart on him. 

“so beautiful,” he praises, voice strained as he nears his own release. “my beautiful girl. you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?” he rambles, cock twitching as you let out more whines and whimpers.

“c-cum in me.” you demand, voice broken and hoarse from all the screaming. “i-i wanna feel it. i need to.”

an animalistic growl bubbles in the back of his throat and his slow pace and sweet praise disappears, replaced by an unforgiving speed at which he pounds into you. you’re back to broken moans as he lets out labored pants till, shortly after, he’s stills inside of you, cock nestled at your hilt and he’s releasing his warm load inside of your battered walls. 

you collapse on top of him, savoring the feeling of his warmth inside of you. 

“did i hurt you?” he whispers after a few minutes of unsteady breathing from the both of you. 

you shake your head. “just my dignity,” you joke softly, resting your forehead against his. “i’m alright, don’t worry.”

he chuckles, cupping your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over the dried tear streaks, “i was a bit mean, huh?”

“so mean.” you tease, kissing the corner of his mouth. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“beyond lucky.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

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[shockercoco]

Whatever It Takes

Benny Cross x reader

warnings - 18+, smut, p in v, overstimulation, squirting, some swearing, dirty talk, breeding

word count - 2851

a/n - request : "Hi! Please can you write a Benny x reader smut where he's got a breeding kink and he just wants to knock her up?" - the fact that I haven't written for austin in over a month is crazy, also thank you guys for the support on all of my works! but anyways thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy :)

One day while Benny was working at the garage with his cousin, he was fixing a car that had been brought in by a single mother of three. He could see how exhausted the mother was and the hard time she was having controlling her two kids that were running around, while the third one was being balanced on her hip.

When he had mentioned to the woman that her husband should be doing something like this, the woman said, “He’s out of the picture, unfortunately. Otherwise, I would be having him do this.”

Benny just nodded in acknowledgment and said nothing more as he continued to work on the woman’s car.

After sending the woman on her way, he couldn’t help but think about his own father and how he was also nonexistent in his childhood – in his life period. He began thinking about how he would never put his kids through what he experienced, that is if he were to have children of his own.

Having kids was a topic that had come up a couple of times between the two of you, but the conversation never really ended up going anywhere. Because of Benny’s background, he was always hesitant and had his doubts on his ability to be a good father.

But, this incident has him thinking, and he may or may not want to change his mind.

Later that night, as the two of you were laying in bed – Benny on his back with his hands behind his head and you with your head on his chest – Benny decided he needed to say what was on his mind.

“Do you really want to have kids?” Benny asks, looking down at you as you lay on his chest.

You lift your head up and give him a confused look. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve just been thinking about it lately,” Benny shrugs. “Do you?”

“You know I would love to have a family, Benny, but I don’t want to force anything on you,” you tell him.

“You’re not forcing anything on me. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“...Today I had to fix this single mother’s car, and I just felt like shit that she was taking care of her kids by herself,” Benny admits.

“And this made you think about having a kid of your own?” you ask, flipping yourself over to lie on your stomach, making it easier to look at him.

“Well…yeah.”

“Benny, are you sure you’re not just saying this because you somehow want to prove a point to yourself? You know, given the way you grew up and everything.”

“I’m serious about this, baby,” he looks down at you.

You raise an eyebrow up at him. “And you’re sure this isn’t just some excuse to have sex with me?”

Benny cracks a smile and lets out a laugh, making your body move on top of his. “I mean, it’s definitely a plus,” he smirks, causing you to hit him in his chest, “but, no, I want to try. If it happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.”

“Like actually?” you ask.

“Yes, actually,” Benny confirms.

“You got yourself a deal, Benny Cross,” you smile at him, and lean up to press your lips onto his.

Benny moves one of his hands from behind his head and places it on the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. When you go to pull back, you're met with resistance, making Benny breathe out a laugh against your lips at your attempt to get away.

“Why don’t we go ahead and get a head start on the process?” Benny murmurs against your lips.

“Benny, it’s almost midnight, and we have to get up early in the morning,” you sigh as you go to pull away again.

“Don’t worry, I can be quick,” he promises, causing you to roll your eyes.

“That’s what you always say,” you point out as you go to lay on your back next to Benny. He just follows you and turns over to allow his body to hover over yours.

“I know, but this time it’ll be true,” Benny whispers against the skin of your neck, placing a few scattered kisses on the area. 

“Benny…,” you begin to say, but trail off as you feel him make his way behind your ear, your weakness. You bite back a moan and place your hands against his chest, but make no move to actually push him away.

“Come on, darlin’,” you hear Benny say into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. Benny moves one of his hands further south until it reaches your panties, cupping you in his palm. A gasp involuntarily escapes your lips, your hands tightening on his shirt. You can feel warmth pooling in your core.

You knew it was a bad idea to go without your pajama shorts tonight.

“Y’know you want to,” says Benny as he begins to move his hand back up, letting it lay on your stomach. You feel his fingers spread out, allowing him to cover more of your skin. “I can’t wait to see you carrying my child, baby. C’mon, let me make it happen.”

Your head leans to the side – to give him more access, but to also take a look at the clock on your nightstand. Staying up a little later wouldn’t hurt, right?

Fuck it.

“Okay,” you give in.

You feel Benny smirk against your neck, before he lifts his head to look you in the eye.

“That’s my girl,” he praises as his hand moves back down towards your underwear, holding eye contact with you the whole time. “You made the right choice.”

His fingers slip under the waistband before landing on your already drenched folds. He runs a finger up and down your folds before landing on your clit, spreading your wetness and causing a soft moan to leave your lips. You feel his finger press down on your bud as he begins to draw tight circles into you, making your head fall deeper into the pillow and your legs open wider.

“Gotta get you ready for me, baby,” Benny tells you. 

When you feel Benny suddenly insert a finger inside of you, your eyes closing, and your mouth falls open in surprise at the intrusion. Benny moves his head back down and begins to press kisses along your jawline as he plunges his finger in and out of you.

It’s not long before he adds another finger inside of you, slowly moving his fingers in tandem inside of you. The longer he continues, the louder the noise he’s forcing out of your wet pussy becomes, the sound turning you on even more. He suddenly pulls his fingers out of you, just to spread more of your arousal, using his thumb to go back to your clit.

He begins to stimulate the sensitive bud as he slips his fingers back inside. You can’t help the pathetic noise that leaves you as you arch your body into his.

Getting annoyed with his slow pace, you reach a hand down to grab his wrist and begin moving your hips along with the thrust of his fingers, making Benny chuckle against your skin.

Leaning back to look at your face once more, Benny asks, “Needy, huh, baby?”

A small whimper is all you’re able to manage out, your senses slowly becoming drowned in pleasure. His fingers, the way you can feel how hard he is with his body pressed against you, his raspy voice – it’s almost enough to make you cum on the spot.

Suddenly, you feel his fingers stop inside of you, causing your eyes to fly open and connect with his. 

“Benny,” you whine.

“I asked you a question,” he gently tells you, but his expression is stern.

“That wasn’t really a question, though, was it?” you give him a look, still irritated at the fact that he ruined your impending orgasm.

Benny’s eyebrows raise in surprise at your sudden boldness. “Watch your tone darlin’, I’m the one in charge of your pleasure,” he reminds you, using his thumb to quickly add pressure to your clit.

You let out a whimper, your eyes closing momentarily before looking back at him. “You want this just as much as I do,” you glare up at him.

Benny’s lips curl into a smirk, staying silent for a moment, before speaking. “Ya’ know, you’re kinda hot when you talk back. You’re lucky you’re right, otherwise I’d just stop this altogether. Before I continue, though, I’m gonna need you to answer my question.”

You contemplate not giving into him just for the hell of it, but you quickly decide against it. “Yes.”

“Yes…what?” he teases, giving you a look as he waits for you to continue.

“Come on, Benny, this is stupid,” you pout, and he just shakes his head. You let out a sigh and look away from him in embarrassment as you quietly say, “Yes, I’m needy.”

His smirk only grows as he watches you struggle. “See that wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Fuck you,” you murmur, still avoiding his eyes.

“Oh, baby, I will,” he assures you, sliding his fingers out of you in the process.

Your mouth slightly parts as you watch Benny take one of the two soaked fingers into his mouth, sucking and releasing it with a popping noise – all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours. You feel another wave of arousal travel to your core at the sight.

Then he hovers the untouched finger over your lips, telling you, “Go ahead.”

You glance down at his finger before looking back up at him and taking it inside your mouth.

Benny lets out a groan. “Good girl.”

Once you release his finger, Benny sits up to peel his tank top off, his sweatpants and underwear following soon after. You take the time to rid yourself of your clothes, although all you were wearing were panties and one of Benny’s shirts with no bra underneath. Your body runs hot as you catch sight of the damp spot that has formed in your panties.

Benny goes to align himself with your entrance, but just when you think he’s about to push in, he decides to run the head of his cock up and down your sticky folds, bumping into your clit on his way up each time and forcing your walls to clench around nothing.

“My god, baby,” he says lowly, mainly to himself, as he watches his hard length run across you. There’s already precum leaking out his slit, mixing with your fluids.

“Benny, please,” you beg, your voice becoming even more whiny the more desperate you become.

“Yeah, baby?” he questions, his tone condescending as he leans down to hover over you again. He places his arms on either side of your head, caging you in as he rests on his elbows. “You want me to put a baby in you?”

You buck your hips up into him and pathetically nod. “Yes.”

“Yeah?” he fake pouts, his hips still moving.

He loves to tease you and make you wait as long as possible – he’d probably edge you all night if he really wanted to.

“Yes-,” you cry out, and before you could say anything else, your sentence is cut off by Benny pushing into you – all the way to the hilt.

You throw your head back while your jaw drops as you let out a silent cry. Benny’s head drops as your tight, warm walls enclose around him.  A deep growl leaves his throat, his eyes shutting in the process.

“Fuck,” he whispers.

It doesn’t take him long to set his pace, hitting that special spot with each stroke. Your previous orgasm that had gotten interrupted quickly builds back up and makes its way out of your body. Your eyes roll back as you let out a sob. Benny bites the skin of your shoulder as he feels your walls get even tighter, trapping him in. He has to take a second to slow down and regain his composure, before resuming.

One of your hands finds a place in his hair, while the other wraps around him, wanting to keep him as close as possible. Benny pulls a leg over his hip, allowing him to hit you at a different angle. The way your face contorted in pleasure just eggs him on more. You can hear the sound of your wetness every time his hips collide with yours, your arousal seeping out of your abused hole.

“Oh my god!” you mewl out, your eyes closing.

“Feels good doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he asks. All you can do is nod, tears beginning to form under your closed eyelids. Benny lets out a smug laugh as he adds, “I mean your legs are shaking, so it must be.”

You’re too far gone to care about his comments anymore. The hand you have in his hair tugs at the strands, causing Benny to curse.

“You’re really eager for me to make you a momma, aren’t ya?” Benny mocks, his attention still on your face. “Don’t worry, baby, I could do this all day.”

Benny moves his head down to put one of your nipples into his mouth, “It won’t be long until these are nice and full. God, you’re gonna look so good carrying my child, I already know it,” he tells you, 

His words cause your walls to involuntarily throb around him. You arch your chest up into his mouth as you keep his head in place, the feeling of his tongue swirling around the pebbles goes straight to your core. He switches his attention to your other breast, his tempo never faltering, as he wraps an arm under your body to pin you closer against him. He hums with your nipple still in his mouth, the deep vibration radiating through your body.

When he feels your walls start to flutter around him again, he pulls his mouth away from your chest to look at you. “Ready to cum again, baby?”

“Yes,” you whimper out with your eyes still closed. 

Benny glances down to where the two of you are connected, noticing the white ring that has appeared at the base of his cock. Benny bites his lip at the sight, but quickly looks back up at your face, not wanting to cum just yet.

“None of that, baby. Open your eyes for me,” you hear him say, and you do, but with your body feeling so heavy you practically have to force your eyes open. “There we go, y’know I like to see those eyes. Go ahead and let go for me.”

He reaches a hand between your bodies, his fingers going straight to your clit. You can’t tell whether or not your body wants to pull away as you dig your nails in the skin of his back. You can feel the slick from you

“Benny, it’s too much,” you breathe out, your head feeling empty.

“No, it’s not. I know you can take it,” he smirks down at you, his hand adding even more pressure to your overstimulated clit.

“Fuck,” you pant.

“C’mon darlin’, give it to me,” Benny murmurs as he continues to do whatever he can to drag you over the edge.

You feel your orgasm building up quickly, your body beginning to tremble underneath him. Your jaw goes slack, but all that comes out are punched out little noises, a result of Benny going even deeper with his thrust. The tears that were stuck behind your eyes begin to come out and stream down the sides of your face.

“Benny, no, i-it’s too much,” you babble, your hands moving to push against his chest.

Benny doesn’t stop though, you and him both know that it’s the last thing you want him to do. “It’s okay, let it out. I’m right there with you,” he groans.

A few more forceful thrusts, and your orgasm is squirting out of you, almost pushing Benny out in the process. You dig your head into the pillow underneath you as your toes curl and your eyes move towards the back of your skull, your jaw slack as you cry out in ecstasy.

Benny goes to let out a small laugh, but is interrupted when a moan is pulled from his throat as his own creamy, white load shoots out of him. He drops his head into your neck as he continues to ride out both of your highs and to push his semen in as far as it will go.

“Damn,” Benny hisses.

Each thrust causes more and more of your clear liquid to gush out around his length.

When he finally comes to a stop, he doesn’t pull out as catches his breath.

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he rasps into your ear.

“It usually takes multiple tries to get pregnant,” you joke, but Benny takes it as a challenge.

He turns his head and pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “Don’t you worry darling, I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

Oh. 

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[artists-ally]

Hello sweetheart 😘 I really really adore your writing so much ! So, I dare to send in an idea as well 🥰 maybe you're dating Harvey but he barely had time for you lately, so one time he wants to surprise you with dinner at his apartment and you enjoy your time together. Then you both end your evening with lovely passionate smut and lots of cuddles afterwards. In the morning he wakes up before you and takes time in admiring you, realizing how happy he is to have you ? Hope that's not too cheesy ❤️ thank you so much in advance!

{Warm} Reader x Harvey Specter

This has been sitting in my inbox for god knows how long. I thank you for your patience my dear. I love this idea so much, and this song Warm by SG Lewis is just perfect. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. P.S. nothing is EVER too cheesy for me to write <3

Word Count: 3,998

Warnings: Just some good ole fluff and smut, some very soft dom!Harvey.

Tagging: @rosedpetal @blacktreacle22

Summary: After a particularly brutal month in the office, you've noticed some changes. Harvey is just... not present. Rather than demanding his attention, you just simply float by, knowing eventually he'll return his negligence. And boy does he ever.

~~~~~

“Yn, you really just need to grow a set and tell Harvey he’s being a jackass,” Donna scolds through the phone.

I roll my eyes, “Donna, I told you before. I don’t mind. He’s focused on winning this case, and it quite literally is the life and death of this firm. So, while I appreciate your ‘words of affirmation’, I didn’t ask for them.”

“I know, I just hate to see you so neglected.”

“Oh please,” I pff, flipping my head to move a chunk of hair out of my eye. “Neglected is probably the last thing I am. I can entertain myself. I actually haven’t minded the space. Every once and a while it’s good to go back to the basics. I’ve finally learned how to take care of the plants, I can make a mean lasagna too. I’ve even gotten back into reading. For fun.”

“Sheesh, clearly something is wrong if you’ve been reading voluntarily.”

I snickered. “I don’t know, I saw a book recommendation on instagram and fell in love. Childhood penpals turned strangers, turned back to penpals and she found out he’s the world's biggest rock star and he’s been writing songs about her the entire time.”

“Sounds exactly like the fairytale mushy-gushy shit you love. How you found Harvey to fill those shoes I’ll never understand.”

“He’s just… I don’t know, exactly what I need? My life is perpetually disorganized and he’s too organized. We balance each other out. It just works, and I love our life. I love our dynamic, and I love him. Since he’s so busy, and I have the energy and mental space to, I don’t mind picking up the slack. Again, things will balance themselves back.”

Donna sighed, and I knew that flat line was on her lips. “I know, you’re always so insightful. Optimistic bitch.” I cackled a laugh. “But in all seriousness, Harvey needs you. You’re right, he is too organized. He needs you to unwind him. I know how he is, and he needs a kick in the ass every once in a while. So, if by the end of the week, he doesn’t come around a little, just push him. He’ll fold. Especially for you, and that ass of yours.”

A smile bloomed onto my face, the door of our apartment building coming into view. “Thanks Donna, I’ll let you know how tonight goes. Maybe I’ll stop by the office in the morning and bring the crew some coffee, a few bagels as well.”

“This is why you will always remain my favorite. Now go eat that Chinese food, you sexy son of a bitch.”

“How did you know I had Chinese food?” 

“Because I’m Donna.” Then the line went dead.

Psycho. My psycho, but still a psycho. 

I did indeed have a takeout bag hooked in my elbow filled with Chinese food. Sesame chicken and wonton soup for me, beef and broccoli with pork lo-mein for Harvey. I got a small order of pork fried rice and some scallion pancakes to share. I was about ten seconds away from crouching in an alley and eating myself into a coma. 

The city streets were just beginning to fill up with Friday night festivities. Those heading to lavish dinners or exotic clubs, dressed to the nines with pristine hair and outfits. I looked down at my beat up orthopedic sneakers that kept the never ending foot pain of being a museum tour guide at bay. Here I was, surrounded by the most eccentric and busy place on earth, with absolutely nothing to do.

And that felt amazing. 

I scurried up the steps to the apartment building, greeting our doorsman with a smile and a wave. He gave me one back, pulling open the big glass doors. The mild April chill vanished and the comfortable, still air caressed my cheeks. The elevator door chimed open, chimed closed, and ascended to the top. 

21… 22… 23… the floors climbed and climbed. What was I going to watch? The new season of Bridgerton was out, I could watch that. No, the next season can’t possibly be as good as Charlottes. Maybe a movie? Didn’t that second Dunne one come out? I’m not sure I understand the first one enough to comprehend the second. 

The ding sounds, and I step off, juggling my keys as I rattle off more ideas in my head. 

There's always The Big Bang Theory, maybe Two Broke Girls? Nah, I’ve seen those a thousand times. Maybe I should watch something new. No, nothing sounds interesting. I could try to read, but I don’t wanna risk spilling anything on my book. Once in third grade, I was eating a bowl of cereal in the morning, and I spilled the entire thing on my book. If You Give A Mouse A Cookie was never the same again. 

When the door opened, I toed off my sneakers, kicking them in the corner. I threw the keys in the bowl and hummed a song aimlessly. In the kitchen, I pried a plate out of the cabinet and began to spoon food onto my plate. I won’t tell Harvey, but I stole some of his lo-mein. 

“Yn,” a voice spoke. 

I spun so hard I knocked my hip into the kitchen island corner, a scream bubbling out. “Jesus fucking christ Harvey! You could warn me next time, fucking hell.” 

My heart thrashed in my chest, my eyes going a little wonky from adrenaline. I swallowed, bending at the waist to catch my breath.

“Sorry, my love,” he smiled, coming to raise me from my hunched over position. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“A simple text would’ve been lovely,” I sighed, rising to my full height. “What the hell are you doing…”

All words died on my tongue as I looked around. The table was decorated with a white cloth, candles skewed about. There were flowers in a vase on the counter, beside it a card with two small boxes. There was champagne chilling in a metal bucket of ice, a box of chocolate covered strawberries and cherries next to it. 

“Harvey, what’s all this for? Our anniversary isn’t for two months.”

He grinned, that smirk going right to my chest. “No, it’s not.”

“Then what's all… this?” I waved my hand around, noticing a few balloons blown up and taped to the archway. I somehow completely missed the rose petals lining the floor. 

“It’s because I love you,” Harvey grabbed my hips, pressing our fronts together. “You’ve been… dealing with me for weeks now. My absence, my constant mood swings and lashing out. And I know what you’re gonna say-”

“That I know you’ve been stressed and need some time to focus on the case?”

Harvey tilted his head, a flat expression on his lips. “Yes. That.” 

“It’s not a big deal, Harvey. I know how important work is to you, and I know that you’ve really needed to focus so the firm doesn’t crumble and-”

“But I need you to know that you are a thousand times more important than work,” he says, placing his palms on my cheeks. He kisses me softly, stealing the air from my lungs. “Then the firm,” another kiss.  “And anything that has to do with that hellscape. I love you, Yn. And I don’t know what I would do without your constant flexibility with my chaotic life. So this is a very small token of my appreciation. The first part, at least.”

I hummed against his lips, letting my arms lay across his shoulders. I kiss him deeply. “The first part?”

“Mhmm,” he nodded, hands falling down my back, a less than PG-13 flex of his hands on my ass. “First, I want you to open those little boxes. Then, we’re gonna eat and have some dessert.”

“I feel like there's more to this list,” I smile, making my way back to the counter to get our food. One second to the next, Harvey gripped my arm and pulled me back into his chest. I could feel his desire pressing into me. “Looks like I’m right.”

“You’re always right,” he whispered, breath tickling my ear. He kissed the side of my neck, leaving a little bite below my ear. “Go sit, I’ll get the food.”

A new thrill fueled my body, propelling my steps to the dining room. I sat, playing with the end of the table cloth as Harvey brough everything over. The champagne, the card, the boxes and the food. Before he made his way to his seat, his palm cupped my neck and he tilted my head back. His deep, lust filled eyes locked with mine before he kissed me again. 

“Open whichever you’d like, darling,” he sat opposite me, tucking the napkin across his lap. 

“Just because I did what anyone would for their love doesn’t mean you need to shower me with gifts, Harvey,” I said, giving him a pointed look. 

“And if I bought them just because I wanted to?” 

Point taken. I read the card, a picture of a polar bear wearing sunglasses on a beach with a coconut in its hand plastered on the front. 

Classy. It made me giggle nonetheless.

To my Yn,

Thank you. I’m sorry. I love you. Thank you for being here, even when I wasn’t. I’m sorry for my absence, I promise I’ll be more conscious of my time spent at the office. I love you, more than I ever thought I’d ever be able to love anything. You are everything I’ve always wanted, and everything I never knew I’d need. After this last month, I didn’t understand just how badly I craved you. Your smile, your laugh, your warmth. The taste of you in the morning, and those adorable snores at night. No matter how many times I do it, I’ll never get tired of kissing you. Never tire of taking your breath away. I’ll never get sick of you being the first thing I see when I wake up, and the last thing before I sleep. 

You are forever entwined in my soul, Yn. And I wouldn’t dare to imagine it otherwise. 

I love you. <3 Harvey

I looked up at him, tears lining my eyes. He just winked at me, fork scraping his plate as he shoved a mouthful in. 

“Fuck you for that,” I sniffled, brushing away the tears as I blinked. “That was so uncalled for, you didn’t need to do that to me. That’s so unfair.”

He smiled, “I know you love that shit. And before you ask, Donna didn’t come near me when I was writing that. It all came from up here.”

I laughed as he touched the side of his head. “Good to know all those years at Harvard Law taught you something other than corporate jargon.”

“Open the boxes, little devil,” he sipped his champagne, nudging the boxes towards me. 

Both were a dark blue velvet, unlabeled. They were closed with a silver ribbon. The first one I grabbed was about the size of a book, and something rattled inside. I undid the bow, lifting the lid. Inside was a Kindle. I gasped, pulling it out and looking it over. 

“Harvey,” I grinned, mouth falling open. “You did not.”

“But I did,” he smiled brightly. “Unlimited.”

I could jump his bones from across the table. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Well, after you find out I got you a case, a Pop Socket, and one of those stands with the remote clicker so you don’t even have to hold it, you might love me a little more.” I squealed, pushing out of my chair as I crashed into him. We nearly tipped backwards. Harvey laughed, rubbing my sides as I latched onto him. “I knew you’d appreciate this. I know we haven’t been together much, but I remembered you showed me a video of some girl who had one.” “You remembered that?” A new set of tears choked my voice. 

“Of course I did. And I also remember you telling me that if I bought you another set of earrings you’d use them to pierce my ears, so that option went out the window.”

I swatted his chest, Harvey’s smile easy as he eased me off of him. “This is perfect, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my dear. Now open the next one.”

What could be better than a Kindle Unlimited? With a stand AND a remote to turn the pages for me. Harvey has no idea what he’s done, I’ll literally never get out of bed again. 

Practically ripping the box in half, I take off the lid and peer inside. 

I blink a few times, looking from him to the box. “My passport?”

“Yup.”

“I feel like there is something I’m not getting here.”

“There is.”

“Are you gonna tell me or make me guess?”

“I’m not that mean,” he rolled his eyes. 

“I mean you have been ignoring me for the past month,” I feigned being upset, letting out a little yelp when he threw a piece of broccoli at me. “You're literally four years old.”

“We’re going to China.”

Everything stopped moving. I dropped the box, my small, navy blue passport skittering across the floor. My ears buzzed, my fingers buzzed. “I- What?”

Harvey grinned. Fuck, I missed that grin. “We’re going to China. We won the case last night, and I am desperate for some time with you. You’ve always wanted to go, so why not now? I have everything set up. We’re gonna stay in the mountains, we’re gonna go hiking and see some shows. I also know you’ve wanted to-”

“We’re going to China?” I had to make sure I heard him right? I’ve been learning the language for years now, engrossed with their rich culture and history. The cuisine, the art, the music… everything. Had I been in a different timeline, I would’ve moved there. 

“Yes, my love. We’re going to China. Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” My eyes nearly fell out of my skull. “I can’t take two weeks off of-”

“Yn,” he cut me off, knowing I was going to spiral into a never ending list of reasons of 'why this and why that'. “It’s all been taken care of. All you have to do is pack a bag and get you cute ass in my car on Sunday morning. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“But-But Harvey… what the FUCK? WE’RE GOING TO CHINA? Oh my god, I have to call Donna.”

“Can you call Donna tomorrow? I have other things I’d like to do before you go blabbering to her about how amazing and awesome I am for planning this.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Donna planned this, didn’t she?"

“She did find the panda place. And the art festival. But everything else was my doing. You can applaud now.” Cocky, arrogant son of a bitch. My cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but one nonetheless.

I looked at him, dumbfounded. He did all this for me, just because he had a crazy workload. I feel like it should be the opposite, me pampering him, congratulating him on his huge win. Not him fueling my book obsession and planning my dream trip. 

But it was yet another reason I loved him more and more every day. He just did these things, without prompting. Without need. He felt like he was neglecting me, leading to… all of this. 

We ate our dinner, chatting about anything other than the case. I asked about it, twice, and he completely side-stepped my attempt. I wanted to know, but if he didn’t want to talk, I wouldn’t push. I told him the plot of this terrible Mafia romance book I finished earlier in the week, and he listened to every grating, awful point I made about it. All with a dopey smile on his face. 

Harvey cleared the plates, setting them in the sink. He brought more champagne, the strawberries and the cherries. In a calm silence, we devoured them, eyes raking over each other. I risked a look below the table, seeing just exactly where he wanted the next phase of the night to go. 

“You looking at it makes it worse, you know,” Harvey leaned back in his chair, my legs propped in his lap. He stroked his hand up and down, fingers dipping into one of the holes in my jeans. 

“Good,” I smiled, a sinful intent in my eyes. 

He looked from my smile to my eyes and back down. With a curse, he threw my legs off his lap and pulled my chair close to his. Harvey enveloped his mouth with mine, the sweet taste of chocolate mixed with the sour berry and tarte champagne. Every flavor on his tongue became my own. 

I was in his lap the next second, legs folded against his thighs. Harvey kept me firmly planted. Steady. He wouldn’t dare let me fall. I got lost in him, suddenly aware just how long it had been since I truly had him. Truly tasted him. Truly craved him.

He stood, taking me with him. The familiar route to our bedroom whirled by. I landed on the bed with a soft bounce, tugging on the collar of his shirt until he laid on top of me.

“So demanding,” he whispered on my lips. I wrapped my legs around his hips to emphasize my need. “Fuck… I love it when you get like this.”

“You made me this way, Harvey,” I pleaded, eyes catching him. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you what you deserve,” Harvey sighs. It’s not heavy, but it’s noticeable. “Let me take care of you, Yn.”

“I just need you to-”

“I know, my love. Let me worship you. Treat you how you deserve. You’ve been so patient with me, now let me return the favor.”

Well, I’d be stupid to deny him.

Delicately, he kissed down my torso, lifting my shirt over my head and throwing it for tomorrow's problem. He removed my socks, then my jeans. From ankle to knee, he kissed and bit my skin, making me squirm against the sheets.

Every nerve ending in my body was on fire, the tips of my fingers and toes pulsing with anticipation. With the last remaining pieces of my clothes gone, he spread my legs, kneeling to the ground. 

The sight of Harvey Specter on his knees between my thighs was… empowering. Not that he hasn’t tasted me with his tongue, I’ve just… always been on top. Never so… exposed.

A heady sigh left my lips, body going lax with the first pass of his tongue on me. I clenched my legs against his ears, muffling my whines. He pushed them against the mattress, eyes pinning me as he sank his teeth into the muscle of my thigh. 

“You know better than to hide those pretty moans from me, my love.” Yes, I do know better. “Scream my fucking name if you want.”

I just might. 

He made quick work of me, practiced movements easily sending me up and up and up. He’d slow back down, torture me with more bruising marks on my thighs while I writhed and begged for him to let me release. I arched up off the bed when he added his fingers.

I was so close, a month's worth of pent up desire threatening me all at once. My mind and body were on fire. I couldn’t hold off any longer. I chase that high, circling my hips against his face. His hands, firmly planted on my inner thighs, I shook, that month long ache finally subsiding before roaring back to life. 

When I thought he’d stop, he kept going. Around and around and around his tongue went. Teasing and sending an endless supply of pleasure through my body. 

“H-Harvey,” I gasped, my body up in flames over his never ending devotion.

“I’ll stop when I want to. Fuck Yn, you taste so sweet. Almost as sweet as hearing you beg for me to let you cum. Can you take one more?”

Again, I nodded, content to let him spend however long he wanted at my aching core. My second release came much sooner than the first. He didn’t bother teasing me, knowing it would ruin all his hard work if he stopped. With a few more sweeping passes, he licked me clean, sitting back on his heels to look at me. He wiped my cum off on the back of his hand, giving me a wicked grin.

“You are so fucking beautiful, all laid out for me to do as I please,” Harvey said, beginning to strip. 

“Please Harvey, have me. Any way that you like.”

He chuckled, kneeling over me. “I will, but like I said, I want tonight to be all about you.”

“Well I want you to fuck me.” I am not very good at being subtle. 

“How can I deny you when you ask so nicely,” he purred, closing our lips together, I parted my legs for him, desperate for the friction of his body on mine. His chest, his stomach, his hands lacing with mine. I needed all of him all over me. 

It didn’t take long for him to slip inside me, every inch of him stretching me in the most desirable way. I hummed as he stilled, his need clear in the way his arms shook to keep still. 

“Move, please please move,” I begged, threading my hand in his hair. With a reluctant drop of his head, he rolled his hips into mine, our bodies finally meeting in full. 

“I was trying to be gentle,” he reasoned. 

“Fuck gentle, I need you. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know my love, I know.”

With each thrust into me, a new sensation bubbled inside me. My toes curled, my back bowed, my eyes fluttered shut. He quickened his pace, heavy breaths falling from his lips into mine. His air was mine. Every muttered curse and moan and praise went straight through me. He needed me as much as I needed him.

~~~~~

With my mind not fully awake, I lazily fling myself off my stomach and onto my back. My arm knocked into something hard, and I squinted against the morning sun. Oh, Harvey.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, crashing back down against the pillow. 

He chuckled, kissing the hand that accidentally hit him in the face. “It’s okay.”

“Are you going into the office?” I asked, still keeping my eyes closed. Man this bed is so comfy…

“No?” He said, a question in his tone. “Why would I?”

“Why else are you up so early?”

“I was just looking at you, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve just… looked at the love of my life. Taken the time to appreciate just how fucking stunning you are.”

My heart melted, a lovesick feeling welling up in my chest. I turned over, facing the handsome lawyer and grinned ear to ear. “I’m sure I look fabulous after last night.”

“You’ve never looked hotter. Lips swollen from mine, hair a mess from my hands… your body covered in my-”

“Okay,” I snatched his lips between my fingers, silencing his next words. “I did just wake up, at least let me shower before you destroy me again.”

“Only if I can quote on quote destroy you in the shower before I cook you breakfast and fuck you again on the counter.”

My eyes snapped open, meeting his blown out pupils. “You certainly have a vivid imagination for…” I looked over at the clock on the side of the bed. “... eight thirty-seven AM.”

“Wait till you find out I’ve been awake since six. With nothing to do but plot all the ways I could ruin you.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, offering my lips as a peace offering. He quickly accepted, kissing me deeply. “Man, I missed this.”

“More than you could ever know.”

[brynn-lear]

🍵 𝒲𝐻𝒪𝒟ℛ𝒜𝒩𝒦𝐼𝒯? ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚: A Yandere!H:SR x Reader Otome Game

this is a repost because tumblr won't show up the original in the tags ;;-;;

✧ romanceable characters (© hoyoverse): Professor Veritas Ratio, "Your friend" Kakavasha, and "Gallagher" [for now]

✧ content warning: yandere themes, mentions of racial/species discrimination (your character is SEA/Filipino-coded), (y/n) uses they/them, the story takes place in a modern hybrid alternate universe where each planet (Belobog, Penacony, etc) is considered a country.

PLAY THE DEMO HERE (available for download on PC & Mac AND online play for any devices, though download is preferable to avoid pixellated graphics & misaligned textboxes)

You (name changeable) are a hardworking and full-pledged human cafe owner in Penacony City. Your Dreamjolt Cafe has been a go-to for residents and tourists alike. But your loved ones' lives took a sharp turn for the worst when you decided to take a much-needed vacation back to your homeland, Perlas. While your family eagerly awaited your arrival, you disappeared en route. Where did you go? How did this happen? Who did this? Was it...

☕ the prickly yet fascinating Prof. Veritas Ratio, your self-proclaimed avian-hybrid regular,

☕Kakavasha, your longest fellow human friend who always seems to have a secret or two;

☕ or Gallagher, your hound-hybrid roommate whose past is as peculiar as his loyalty?

☕ or are there two more you're forgetting?

... so...

𝒲𝐻𝒪 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝒾𝓉?

Please support this game by reblogging the post & sending asks/comments! I put a lot of time and effort writing, drawing, and learning to code for this. Thank you so much, my beloved yandere!H:SR community and of course, @dreamjolt-hostelry, for being supportive friends!!! - @beloved-brynn

✧ Characters, Background Art and UI Credits

Hoyoverse assets sourced from the-astral-express-archive. I just tweaked em a bit!

Canva freestock images... Haha...

✧ Intro video, sprites & CG art Credits

Me!!! Hi <3 I hope you enjoyed them! I can't believe yall made me learn adobe after effects a bit for this-

✧ Music Credits

The main menu theme (the first song upon booting the game) is made by @naraven!

The rest of the royalty free music soundtrack (such as the music used for the video above) is sourced from Vodovoz Music Productions!!! Please show the creator some love!!! I was actually vibing so hard while listening to them lmao

✧ (Fan)Story

lol hi again!!! man. i feel like Argenti.

If you wish to support my work and want to see more of this in the future, please buy me a coffee! So I can at least prove to my parents that my work is at least worth one dollar ;;;;

[luveline]

hi lovely jade!! I had an idea for a request: reader who’s pretty independent who hurt her back working out and now can’t walk/shower/etc on her own for a few days x any of the marauders (I really do love them all and especially the way you write them. you can also make this poly!marauders if you feel so inclined).

this is definitely self indulgent, so please feel free to ignore it if it doesn’t do the creative trick.

thank you for sharing your lovely writing with us and being lovely overall!

sending so many hugs to you!!

hi honey, thank u for requesting!! hope u get better soon <3

the boys take care of you when you hurt yourself. fem, 1.2k

You wake in Sirius’ bed with James curled over you protectively. This is not unusual. What is strange is that Sirius seems to have already gotten up for the day, his sleep shirt thrown in a crumpled mess at your feet and his phone off the charger. You scrub at your tired eyes and consider going to look for him, figuring he's probably in the den (or office, depending on which boy you ask), but your back gives a twinge, and then a throb, and you remember the night before. 

You rub James’ arm and push it off of your chest, preparing mentally for the pain. You've tweaked it a few times in the past, the next day always being worse than the actual time of injury, and yet the pain you're met with is instantaneously disarming. 

“Ow,” you can't help but whine, trying to bend forward away from the pain, and finding you can't manage that, either. You gasp as heat races up your spine and across your shoulders, everywhere and nowhere, like the press of a hot hand. 

James mumbles, “What's the matter?” with his head still buried in the pillows. 

“James, I think I've really hurt myself.” Tears squeeze so quickly out of the corners of your eyes that you don't have time to recognise the heat of them. Other sensations are more pressing. 

You don't know if he's looking at you, but you can feel his careful touch working its way up his arm, and hear the ruffle of the sheets as he gets up. “What?” he asks, his voice stretched with the early hour. 

“Last night, when we were lifting, I– I pulled my shoulder and I thought it would–” You make a strangled sound. “It's really bad, what do I do?” 

“Woah, woah, don't panic!” He leans in, your blurry view suddenly filled with his gentle face. 

James soothes it from there, so to speak. He shushes you softly when you start to sob and helps you lay back down, wiping your tears, not a lick of panic about him. “It's okay, it's okay,” he murmurs, “does that feel better?” 

It's better flat, but not gone. “I can't sit up.” 

“That's okay,” he says, bringing your hand to his lips, where he kisses your fingers. 

He waits for you to calm down before grabbing his phone from his room. It's much later in the day than you'd thought, and Sirius will be working his afternoon shift, while Remus could be anywhere. He likes to write in cafes or parks, somewhere away from the hubbub of the house, lest he be distracted, waylaid with kisses, or pestered into helping make dinner or do laundry or whatever needs doing that day. 

“Hey,” James says, hushed, “you okay? Mm… can you come home?” A startled question that betrays the first recipient, Remus’ rasp on the line. “Yeah, I'm fine, it's our little gym rat sweetheart, she's strained her back, she's a bit upset… No, not yet. You think she'll let me?” 

“I'm not going to the doctor’s,” you call to him. James smiles at you from the door. 

“We’ll see,” he shoots back. “Yep yep. Okay. Well, he's in work… Okay. Yeah, okay. Love you, see you in a bit.” 

“What can he do?” you ask. “You should've left him.” 

“Same thing as me.” He runs his hands through his hair. It's a little too long again, dark and thick, curled at the base of his neck with flicks behind his ears, though it's short compared to Sirius’ mess. When he drops his arms, the noon time sunshine kisses his brown skin with a gorgeous warmth, and emphasises the lines of veins where they run up his arms. “You look like you're in agony,” he says, covering his mouth with a hand. “Is it really that bad?” 

You nod miserably. 

He sits next to you carefully, but now you've awoken your pain it won't sleep, and each millilitre of the mattress's distension prompts a new layer of aching. “Sorry,” he says, sounding like he could cry for you, “why didn't you tell me last night?” 

James wraps his arms around you in a strange way, trying not to jostle you as he leans down to touch his nose to your forehead. 

“I didn't think it would be this bad.” 

He talks a little about the doctor's while you wait for Remus to come home. It isn't a waste of time, he insists, the GP is there for a reason. 

You're surprised when it's Sirius who shouts up the stairs. “You okay?” he calls. 

“Sirius?”

James shrugs. “Remus must've told him. We're fine!” 

A rush up the stairs. Sirius pauses by the door, frowning at you both in his bed. “What did you do?” 

“Well, I didn't mean to,” you say. 

“Not you, darling. James, I told you to look after her, all that equipment freaks me out, and Remus agrees.” 

James sighs. “He doesn't mean that.” 

Sirius goes to sit with you but stops upon noticing your wince, and instead flops down on the floor near the wardrobe with his phone to his ear. “I'll get an emergency appointment.” 

“This isn't an emergency,” you say. 

“It is for you. You'll need a sick note sorted anyways.” 

“But it's not that bad.” 

“Sweetheart,” Sirius says, smiling at you softly, an uncommon expression on him, though not unseen, “I know when you've had a big cry.” 

He gets put on hold, saving you the further ache of the line music while James strokes your temple. You attempt to hide how much your back hurts, but you're hurting bad and the knowledge that it's not about to go away soon is genuinely scary. 

Remus understands uncertain pain. He's last to come home but certainly not the least concerned, shoving his laptop case onto Sirius’ dresser, freeing his hands in favour of your face. “Is it bad?” he asks, looking between you and James for an answer. 

“Not really,” you say. James’ face must say differently. 

“What painkillers have you taken?” he asks quickly, “I have co-codamols, did you take paracetamol? You can't have them at the same time.” 

He frowns deeply at your daunted look. “You haven't taken them already, have you? They're very strong by themselves, with paracetamol as well, you'd–” 

“I haven't taken anything,” you admit. 

Sirius sighs and rubs his nose into his palm. “Jesus.” 

“Oh,” Remus says, hands especially tender, even as he laughs, “of course you haven't.” 

“I was a bit distracted.” 

He sobers, stroking the fat of your cheek and then leaning down for a careful kiss. “Of course. Haven't eaten anything either, I suppose?” 

“No, sorry.” 

He kisses you again and pulls away. “That's okay. What about you, Jamie, did you eat?” 

They take care of you in their different ways, in the same way they take care of one another. “No,” James says, “but I have it. Swap places with me, I'll make dinner while we wait for the GP to answer.” 

“You can make supper at the same time,” Sirius jokes.

You laugh and hurt your back. He is very, very sorry.