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#rat reader
fakeguysarehot · 6 months
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Alastor x Reader idea!!
Al and (Name) knew each as kids. (Name) was homeless and an orphan when they were kids. they had to steal and fight just to survive, earning the name street rat. And the great depression didn't help at all. one day when Al was at the farmers market (stands/stores out side that farmers set up to sell) and stumbled upon (Name) in an alley way. He tries to help (Name) but they get freaked out and scratches him. the next day he comes back with clean clothes, some small first aid, and food. (maybe just one or two) (Name) this time doesn't attack him or freak out that much. they let him help them and the rest is still somewhat not thought of yet. but they become childhood best friends, always their for each others side maybe for murder to and for comfort.
when they die they get sent to hell as some sort of rat (either a hybrid like Al or like Husker). For some reason (either related to their death or other reason) Al wanted nothing to do with them. Now (Name) would be slightly weaker than Al and also an overlord (they haven't killed as many people, it was mostly just theft and some murder. maybe more) or their very weak. it would fit better though if they become homeless again.
They could be offered a job at the Happy Hotel (Before Al joined / before the pilot). It would be funny if they were the chef (like rent the rat) but other jobs are fine to. After Al joined the hotel he suddenly acknowledges (Name) and tries to either continue to ignore them for acted like he never ignored them. and reasonably (Name) is pissed off about it.
it could be a ship (Al is still ace tho) or it could be completely platonic. but do remember they are around the same age maybe a year or two difference.
some of (Name)'s traits could be pissy, easily aggravated, sarcastic, obsessed with shiny things and snappy. just some ideas but they can be changed.
if you do use this idea please tag me in it!! :3
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Actually, the bars aren't so bad anymore.
Think you can fix him? Read about his care instructions over at Tiger Tiger)
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suiana · 4 months
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(yandere! gym rat x gn! pilates princess/prince/liege)
"cutie! you're back again!"
"...yes? this is a public gym."
you stare at the buff man before rolling your eyes and going back to doing your squats.
he's weird, you think. always watching you, trying to chat you up while not so subtly mentioning how he knows where you stay and some private life details.
you don't want to get close to him even if he seems nice.
i mean, he looks and acts pretty dumb. kinda like a beefy himbo. but what if he isn't a himbo? you'd be in a precarious situation then. men are emotional creatures after all. who knows what he'd do?
"hey want me to spot you! you're doing squats-"
"yeah, without weights. i think I'll be fine, thank you very much."
you snap at him, eyes narrowed as you turn up the volume of your music. ugh, will he just leave you alone? all you ever want is to exercise in peace! do your silly little pilates... but no! he has to annoy you all the time!
"w-well... if you need me I'll be in my corner... doing pilates... you know, because i picked it up for you..."
you glance at him as he walks to his pink mat near you, pitifully getting on his knees as he does some pilates exercises. you would've totally ignored him if not for the moans and whimpers he let out with each rep he did.
you pause your squats, raising an eyebrow as your cheeks flush slightly red. was he always this noisy even with his normal exercises?
"dude can you shut- and you're not doing it right... you need to do it like this."
you walk up to him, taking off your headphones as you adjust his position. hopefully this would help him to shut up... he probably just made the noise because he wasn't in the correct pose. your hands brush against his sweaty skin, helping him to get into the correct position instead.
but as you were doing so, he let out even more noises, flustering you beyond belief. what the heck?! can he just shut up?!
you immediately retract your hands, staring at him like he just murdered somebody before walking away.
nuh uh, you're not dealing with freaky men anymore. you tried helping him but he just wouldn't stop his silly acts.
"s-sweetie wait! I'm sorry! please keep going!"
the male whines, immediately crawling after you as his cheeks flush a beautiful hue of red. however, you obviously ignored him, walking back to your own mat as you resumed your squats, headphones plugged in with music blasting loudly.
ugh, so he really is a weird beefy himbo.
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incorporealmoon · 4 months
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how i think your camera roll would look like if you were in a relationship with könig
he definitely makes you listen to black sabbath with him.
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strang3lov3 · 1 year
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Spencer's
Summary: You and Joel visit Spencer's. You snag some toys, then steal some batteries from Joel for those toys. He's not pleased.
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Warnings: DRAMATIC!Joel, implied age gap, Joel is jealous of certain inanimate objects, Joel is winnie-the-poohing it, overstimulation, masturbation (m/f), general filth, unprotected piv, creampie, brat-taming (if you squint), spanking, use of sex toys, joel is pro-participation trophy, joel reads Savage Love, soft!dom joel, dom!joel, mall rats!joel
A/N: thank you thank you thank you to @papipascalispunk for editing and proofreading this story. I am so thankful for her help and lucky to know her 🩷
W/C: 4.3k
It’s patrol again. You’re in that old mall with Joel. And he’s quiet today, like he has been the past couple weeks. No shitty comments or dumb jokes. Hardly any of his usual grumbling, just quiet and stoic. He’s wearing a green flannel, sleeves rolled up. Beard recently trimmed, his hair a little less unkempt than usual. And he seems nervous, antsy, bouncing his foot as you both sit on a bench, taking a short break. 
You could help him relax. 
“Victoria’s Secret is back that way. Kinda wanna try on some more lingerie,” you suggest, hoping he’ll take the bait you’re offering.  
“Pass,” Joel says, “You know I don’t like that place.”
“You could watch. We had fun last time we did that, didn’t we?” you reach for Joel’s arm and try to pull him from his seat and toward that dreaded underwear store. He doesn’t budge. 
“Joel?” you ask, confused by his reluctance.
“I don’t know about all that, hon. Thinkin’ we should go to that bookstore, find some more books for the library back home,” Joel points toward a nearby Barnes & Noble, “Yeah?”
You shrug, “Sure, after.”
“After what?”
“This,” you lean toward Joel and grip onto the collar of his flannel, pushing it back to expose more of his neck. Pressing your lips to his throat, nipping and kissing the skin as your hand trails down his torso, fumbling with his belt. 
You’re not wasting time. 
“Oh,” Joel breathes shakily, “That.”
“Yeah,” you say with a satisfied smirk, “That.”
You nudge his head to the side with your nose and try to push him back into the bench, pushing his flannel further over his clavicle to expose more of his neck, but he stays firm. He grabs the hand fumbling with his belt and pulls it away. “I don’t think so,” he says. You pull away immediately and Joel looks at you with sympathy, concern. 
“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” you ask, feeling insecure, self-conscious all of the sudden.
“You didn’t do anything,” Joel says. 
It’s been a while since you’ve been with him, he knows you’re probably antsy for more because he is too. But he’s feeling apprehensive. Each time you’ve fucked, it’s been quick and dirty. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. He’s not sure what exactly your history with other men is, but Joel fancies himself a gentleman and believes in the campsite rule. Believes that you deserve better than what he’s been giving you. Starting with, say, a bed. You’re exhausting, troublesome, and you’re like a tick the way you get under Joel’s skin, but you still deserve decency. 
Decency won’t stop him from fucking the living daylights out of you, though. He’ll just be a little more gentlemanly about it all, moving forward.  
Joel clears his throat, “You’re young, you know. And I–”.
“And you what?” your tone is snarky.
“Jesus Christ, motormouth,” Joel snaps, “Would you let me finish speaking before you start arguin’?”
You shrug but remain silent, motioning for him to continue. 
“I just think we should do things by the book from now on. Dinner, talking, that kinda stuff. You know, I just want things to be sort of…nice for you. I dunno the word exactly, just...nice, I guess.” You watch Joel blush as he struggles to spell it out.
“Do you mean romantic? Like a date?" Excitedly, you gasp, "Are you taking me to the Rainforest Cafe?”
Joel stares at you blankly before speaking. Rainforest Cafe is a no-go, you're guessing. “No. Not romantic. And not like a date. A date is for two people that actually like each other.” 
And just like that, the attitude is back. He just exudes charisma. 
You pout, “You don’t like me?”
“No, I don’t. I barely tolerate you. But, you know. I still wanna - want you - I want us to…I don’t know,” Joel groans. It’s entertaining, watching him try to spit it out. 
Awh. He barely tolerates you.
You smile, “I barely tolerate you, too.” But Joel won’t look at you, keeps his eyes focused ahead. Still nervous, he fidgets with his hands and continues bouncing his leg.
“Was thinkin’ tomorrow,” Joel mutters quietly, “Y’could come over. Could be…nice. Maybe. Probably not, ‘cause you’ll be there.”
“Yeah. Sounds nice. Maybe. Probably not. ‘Cause you’ll be there too,” you mock his low tone. 
Joel glares at you, “Seven. My place. Be on time.”
After your break, you explore the mall further. There’s a store called Spencer’s, which looks neat. Joel agrees, unaware of exactly the kind of store Spencer’s is, so you both go inside. There’s funny t-shirts, cool knick-knacks and tchotchkes. Joel is looking at various lava lamps as you make your way toward the back, and he follows you. 
Holy shit.
There’s all sorts of things on this back wall. Handcuffs, lingerie, lubricants, vibrators, dildos, costumes.
“Wow,” you say, “Looks like your kind of party, Joel.”
Joel rolls his eyes, annoyed, “Shut up.”
“This looks nice. Not romantic at all,” as you poke Joel with a vibrator. 
He flinches, “Get that shit offa’ me, freakazoid.”
“We could use it tomorrow. On our not-date,” you smirk.
“Don’t need it,” he huffs. 
“Wow. You seem confident about that,” you say. Joel shrugs, a look on his face you can’t quite read. “Whatever. Maybe I’ll take it for myself. You know, for alone time.”
His face falls immediately. Joel, prudish as he may seem, truly does not have an issue with masturbation. It’s natural, it’s human. But something about you doing it makes it a little… jealousy-inducing. The thought of you, one of those toys between your thighs, you making all sorts of pretty noises that he can’t hear; it’s just too much for him. “Yeah, knock yourself out,” he says sarcastically, “You’ll have a lot of fun with a battery-less vibrator.”
“You still have some, don’t you?”
Joel scoffs, “I do. But they’re mine, and I sure as shit ain’t sharin’ with you, ‘specially not for those things.” 
“Sharing is caring, you know.”
Joel rolls his eyes, “S’a bold assumption you’re making there. That I care about you.” 
Rude. 
You poke him with the vibrator again. “Quit that,” he grumbles, “Now stay here a minute. Gonna take a leak, I’ll be right back.” He drops his bag and heads for a private area nearby. You stare at his bag on the floor and wonder if he’s fucking with you, because he never goes anywhere without his bag. Better to be safe than sorry is what he always says. And you know he keeps batteries in that bag. 
Ah, fuck it. He won’t know. 
There’s a sign that says “buy two toys, get one free”, and you’re not one to pass up a good deal, even if that deal means nothing now being twenty-or-so years into a fungus apocalypse. So you stuff three toys in your bag, along with one of the lava lamps Joel was checking out. You rifle through Joel’s belongings and pull out a handful of batteries, then stuff those into your bag too. Six should do it, hopefully. After twenty years, a lot of them are duds. You’ll try the toys out tonight, then sneakily put the batteries back in Joel’s pack tomorrow night on your not-date. And Joel will be none the wiser. 
—-
Joel is livid. 
Someone called off patrol today, so he was volunteered by Tommy to fill in. He’d still be back in time for your not-date, and although the change in his plans was not ideal, it’s not what set him off today. No, that was all you. 
His radio had died toward the end of his shift. No big deal, he thought. He reached into his pack and fumbled through his belongings to find his spare batteries. Only, they weren’t in his bag. So he searched a little longer before he realized he actually knew exactly where those precious batteries would be. No doubt inside you at the moment. 
Was he in danger without a working radio? Could’ve been, but no, not really. Will he never find batteries again? Yes, he will. Joel’s crafty and good at scouting supplies like that, even when supplies are sparse. What did pissed him off, however, is the fact he knows you consciously went behind his back to steal his batteries for those toys. You’ve probably spent all last night and all day today fucking yourself silly, couldn’t have waited just one more day. He feels a little insulted, topping off the jealousy already simmering.
Joel comes back to Jackson around five in the evening. He should be showering, cooking, setting the table, and tidying his house. But instead, he makes a beeline for your place. 
He doesn’t bother knocking on your door. He knows you keep it unlocked, something he constantly advises you against. He closes your door, and hears your long and pretty moans coming from upstairs. He’s not sure what’s coming over him or why he cares so much. He prides himself on being level-headed, rational. But all of that’s out the door when he hears your moans, moans that he believes should have been all for him and him alone. 
At least he gets to catch you in the act. 
Joel tiptoes up your steps, fighting his urge to stomp angrily. Your bedroom door is wide open, lights dim. There’s a lava lamp bubbling next to you on your nightstand. You’re laid out on the bed, legs spread, one toy between your thighs and two others lay next to you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you moan Joel’s name. It’s a nice touch. Maybe he’ll go easy on you. 
Probably not. 
He stands in your doorway and clears his throat, “Enjoyin’ yourself?” 
“Joel!” you yelp and your eyes fly open. Joel moves to stand next to your bed, his gaze dark and intense, his mouth forming an unamused frown. 
“You think you’re slick, don’t you?”
Your words are caught in your throat. Ohh, you are so busted.
“How many’d you steal from me?”
The vibrating dildo you were fucking yourself with is still humming loudly, and in the otherwise silence of your room, it’s deafening. You fumble to try to turn it off. 
“Oh, no. Don’t let me interrupt your date. That’d be awful rude of me.” 
Too shocked to make any moves, you freeze, dildo still humming away inside you. And as anxious as you feel, you’re equally excited. You’ve picked up on Joel’s jealous side, and you’d be lying if you said some part of you wasn’t trying to rile him up. 
“I just, mmmm,” you moan, “Just missed you a lot. Couldn’t wait for tonight.”
“S’that right?”
“Yes, Joel.”
“You missed me so much you decided to deliberately go through my bag and steal my batteries?”, he spits, sarcasm lacing his words, “Yeah hon, sure looks like you missed me, fuckin’ yourself on that plastic cock.”
“Silicone,” you correct, though now definitely isn’t the time to bother with semantics. Joel notices you rocking your hips ever so slightly, chasing your orgasm as subtly as you can. You’re right, right fucking there. He can see it on you, you’ve got that look about you. Your breathing is shaky and your body trembles. 
“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve,” Joel hovers over you, one hand next to you on the bed and his other reaching for your toy. 
“Please,” you beg. 
“Think you’ve made yourself come enough, impatient goddamn brat,” he mumbles as he pulls the toy away from your center, tossing it aside. You groan and whine in frustration. Just three more seconds, you would have been there. 
Fucking Joel.
“I’m at a loss on what to do here, sweetheart,” Joel says as he kicks off his shoes before sitting on your bed, his back against the headboard, “Can’t fuckin’ take those batteries back on account of they’ve all been inside ya.”
“Joel, I did not fuck myself with your batteries. That’s…not how that works.”
“Shut up, wiseass.”
“Joel, I was gonna give them back, I swear. I just wanted–”.
Joel cuts you off, not caring to hear the rest of your explanation, “All half used and out of juice? How generous. Lucky me,” he muses, annoyed.
“Joel–”.
“Don’t think you fuckin’ get it,” he snaps, “Y’got no fuckin’ self control. You’re lyin’ to me, stealin’ from me, sneakin’ around. And it breaks my heart, ‘cause I was startin’ to look forward to our date.”
“Date?” you ask in confusion. Joel’s cheeks turn rosy as he refuses to acknowledge his slip up. The not-date turned actual-date. “Joel.”
“Need to get through to you somehow,” he ignores you, still too upset,  “Got a couple different ideas in mind. I guess we’ll have to see which one sticks.”
He pulls you up and over his lap, your head laying on the crumpled sheets. He presses a hand firmly on your neck, holding you in place as he gently runs his other hand over the swell of your ass. 
You know what’s coming. And it’s been a long time coming, at that. You've noticed the way Joel looks at you, his angry stare and how he chews on his inner cheek. How his hands ball into fists, like he’s fighting the urge to strangle you. Wrap his hands around your neck and just fucking squeeze. 
Crack. 
The sting of his hand striking your ass is as delicious as it is painful. He smacks you again, harder. And it’s just as incredible. That sharp bite, how it sends arousal gushing from your core. You can’t help the moan that slips from your mouth. 
Joel pulls you off his lap abruptly, onto your knees between his thighs, and faces you towards him. He wears a puzzled expression, like somehow he wasn’t aware that spanking is more of a reward than it is a punishment, at least to you. “Ya weren’t s’posed to enjoy that so much.”
“Joel–”.
“Yeah, we’re not doing that. Fuckin’ weirdo,” he interrupts, shaking his head a little. Joel thinks for a moment, staring at you as he contemplates his next move. His eyes flicker to yours, and you can practically watch the gears in his head begin to turn. “I think,” he lifts his hips to pull both his jeans and boxers down his thighs, and his cock springs free. It’s the first time you’ve really gotten to see it. Long and thick, prominent vein, blushed tip a bit wider than his shaft. Curly dark hair surrounding the base. It’s artwork. “Think we’ll try Plan B,” he says firmly as he reaches forward, wrapping one hand around himself to stroke his member, thumb swiping across the tip. 
It should be your hand. And he’s well aware of this, but he’s giving you a taste of your own medicine before moving on to the main event. You extend your arm in front of you, but Joel doesn’t allow it.  “Ah ah,” he tuts, slapping your hand away, “You can go play with one of your rubber cocks. Since you love ‘em so goddamn much.” His words are biting, acrimonious.
He’s throwing you off. Joel, who says he couldn’t give a “fiddler’s flying fuck” about you, is upset that your pleasure wasn’t brought on by his hands today. Joel, who barely tolerates you. “Joel, please, I want you. I’m sorry,” you cry, “I need you, Joel, been missing you so much. Please, Joel. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Layin’ it on pretty fuckin’ thick, sweetheart.” 
You cry in frustration, “Joel, I’m sor-”.
“Cut that shit out. You ain’t sorry. You’re sorry you got caught, ‘cause now you’re in trouble,” Joel keeps stroking himself, taunting you, “This is on you.”
Joel thinks back to when he was a teenager, when his father caught him with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, how his father’s punishment was to make him smoke the whole pack, and how before he was even halfway through the pack the nicotine had made him sick to his stomach. 
Same idea.
Still stroking himself, Joel grabs one of the vibrators sitting next to you. It’s a wand type, light pink in color. He holds down a button and it buzzes to life, “C’mere. Between my legs. Do it now,” his voice is stern, authoritarian. You assume the position. Joel parts your legs wider, pulling your knees back before guiding your hands to hold the backs of your knees, keeping you open nice and wide for him. “You stay like this. Don’t move.” His flannel feels soft and warm on your skin. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. Wordlessly, he brings the vibrator to your core. He drags it over your lips, through your folds, coating it with your arousal. 
Joel circles your clit with the toy now, and your hips to follow the sensation. The way you’re sighing, moaning, grinding with his movements, Joel can tell you haven’t picked up what he’s putting down yet. 
Poor thing. Fucked herself stupid on all these plastic cocks. 
“Yeah, Joel, like that. Fuck, feels good,” you breathe, “Right there. S’good.”
Joel’s silence is disconcerting. There’s no dirty talk, no snide remarks like usual. But you’re too worked up to worry about why. Within seconds, you’re coming. Sweet, breathy moans and whines falling from your lips as you ride out your high. 
Joel presses the button on the vibrator, taking it up a notch. The buzz is louder, the feeling intense, nearing on too much. Finally, he speaks, “I really do hope your thievery was worth it, sweetheart,” he whispers in a low, raspy voice behind the shell of your ear, “Now tell me, exactly how many batteries am I short?” 
It’s getting uncomfortable now. You wrap your fingers around Joel’s wrist and try to pull him away from your core but he doesn't budge, “What? Joel, let up.”
“What’d I say? Hands on your thighs. Y’don’t move,” he barks. You do as you’re told, and he hums in satisfaction, “Now answer my question.” 
“I don’t know, six? I–oh, fuck. I was gonna give them back. Please, Joel, I can’t– ”
Joel scoffs, “Six? You stole six batteries. What, were you stashing them for winter? Squirrelier than I thought.”
“No, just…you know how sometimes, they-they-they, and they’re old, so–Joel, m’serious–”, you whine, almost pleading for mercy from the overstimulation he’s causing.
Joel pulls the vibrating wand from your core, and you exhale in relief, resting your head back on his shoulder. He’s showing you mercy. Or so it seems. 
But the sound of the vibrator clicking on is back in an instant. Slightly different pitch this time. You pull your head off his shoulder and watch in shock as he guides it to your pussy, notching the longer end inside. He doesn’t bother going slow as he parts your insides with the toy. You worked yourself up plenty.
“Whatever. Damage is done. So here’s the deal,” Joel starts, “You’re gonna come for me six times, one for each of the six batteries you stole from me. You’re gonna keep count, too. Got one down, right?” but you’re a mess of whimpers and whines, which is the wrong answer, “Or are we doin’ more?”
“One, one, we’re at one. Oh, god. Joel, please. Please.”
“Y’don’t even know what you’re beggin’ for,” Joel mumbles. His hand crosses over both his and your bodies to hold your jaw firmly, keeping your sight set on the picture between your thighs. The toy sliding in and out of you, wet and sticky with your juices. The shorter end sliding over your clit. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending you closer to the edge. Within seconds, you’re seeing stars as Joel fucks you through it. 
“Count,” he demands. “T-two,” you moan, but Joel doesn’t relent. A third washes over you just as quickly as the previous one. “Three, s’too much Joel, please,” you beg.
“Quit whinin’,” he mocks, “I’m goin’ easy on ya, considering the fuckin’ stunt you pulled. You wanna make it more?”
“No, please. M’so tired.”
“Quit your whinin’. S’a punishment. Ain’t supposed to feel good,” he growls, “You’re gonna give me my batteries’ worth out of these little fuck toys. Make you come until you can’t fuckin’ walk.” You’re still holding your knees back as Joel fucks you through your third orgasm. The hand that was holding your jaw is now traveling lower, groping your breasts and teasing your nipples. Hot, salty tears of overstimulation and exhaustion roll down your cheeks. You’re shaking, trembling, and he knows it’s all too much. He wonders how many times you came before he showed up. So Joel decides to show a bit of mercy, feeling that pulling three orgasms from you is sufficient enough. For now.
He pulls the toy from your pussy and tosses it on your nightstand. He gives you a moment to breathe, to let your legs down. He rubs deep and firm circles into your sore, aching hips before lifting your limp, pliant body up to straddle his lap and face him. His eyes are soft and sincere, his quiet way of telling you he’s still here. And when this is all done, he’s gonna take care of you.
He’s still gonna fuck the living daylights out of you, though.
“You’re doin’ so good,” he tells you, “Almost there.” You nod and Joel lifts your hips, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance and pulling your aching pussy down onto his cock with a soft groan, slower than he did with the toy. He knows you’re sore. 
He fucks you deep and hard, just how you like. You fall forward, resting your forehead on the thick line of muscle between his neck and shoulder. Whimpering his name into his hot skin, moaning somewhere between agony and ecstasy, “I-Joel, I'm serious. It’s t-too much, please.”
“I know it is,” he whispers as he bounces you on his cock, chasing his own release, hanging by a thread with the way you’re squeezing around him. You think Joel is feeling sympathetic maybe, as he decides to offer a compromise. “I’ll make–oh, fuck,” he gasps, “Make ya a deal.” You mumble incoherently against him, and Joel sits you upright, his cock stiff and filling deep inside you. 
“Right here. Look at me,” he breathes out, gently gripping your jaw to tilt your face up. You look at him with burning, tear stained eyes. He can see the exhaustion on your face. “Breathe, sweetheart,” he coos, “How many left you owe me?”
“Three,” you answer, breathlessly.
“Mhm,” he mumbles, rolling his hips slowly, “I know you’re tired, honey. Probably pretty sore. S’that right?”
“Yes, Joel.”
“Christ, poor thing. What a mess you got yourself into. I know you didn’t mean to, hmm?” You nod in agreement quietly as he fucks you a little more gently, offering you a slight break. “Just curious, wanted to have some fun, huh? I know how ya are,” his tone is soft and kind, but still teasing. 
You smile with a slight shrug. 
“Tell me you’re sorry for stealing, and you only have to give me one more tonight. Just gotta apologize, real nice f’me.”
“Mmm,” is all you can muster. You’re so spent, muddled and incoherent noises seem to be the only sounds your voice can make. 
“Words, c’mon now, baby. ‘I’m sorry, Joel’,” he instructs you.
“I’m sorry, Joel,” you repeat, “For taking your batteries.”
“There ya go, sweetheart. That's it. Good girl,” he praises.
You sigh and collapse on his chest once more as Joel snakes a hand between your bodies. He finds your clit, his fingers warm and soft. With your face against his body, you bite down on his shoulder as his fingers begin rubbing slow, precise circles over your aching clit. No toy in the world could compare to the way his touch makes you feel. 
Just one more. 
He starts to fuck you deeper again, his free hand sliding up your up to grip around the base of your neck as he thrusts up into you, bouncing you on his cock. You’re liquid in his hands as he continues to steadily work your clit. That all too familiar pooling heat in your core is building back up for the last time, this one far more intense than the previous three orgasms he’s pulled from you. It crashes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. Joel feels your body tremble and shake, your fluttering walls choking his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him as he spills inside of you, filling you up with loads of his hot seed. 
God, how you missed that. Missed him.
It could have been minutes, maybe hours that you stayed seated on his cock like that, just breathing with Joel. He runs his fingers up and down your spine, strokes your hair.
Finally, you sit up and extricate your body from his to remove the batteries from the toys. “Here,” you hand them to him.
Joel wears kind of an affected scowl on his face as he takes them from you. “Batteries feel light.”
“Sorry,” you say.
Joel smiles softly, his eyes glimmering as he hands them back to you, “Keep ‘em. Got a stash at home anyhow. Now get dressed.” 
“Why?”
“Jesus, sweetheart. Y’got the memory of a goldfish. Cause we’re havin’ dinner, that’s why.” 
You bite your lip and smile mischievously, “Because it’s a date.”
“No. S’not a date, wiseass. You’re a lady and you deserve…hey-”, Joel stops himself, noticing the bubbling lava lamp next to you, green with blue bubbles, like the one he was eyeing back in Spencer’s, “S’a cool lava lamp. I always wanted one.”
“I know,” you smile shyly, “Picked it out for you. Just wanted to make sure it worked first.”
Please please please reblog, comment, send me asks! Talk to me! Your interaction means the world!
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tojisun · 8 months
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BIMBO!READER X SIMON!!! BIMBO!READER X SIMON!!!!
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IM?? CREAMING SO HARD
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simon is soooo touchy with bimbo!reader :((
he’d be so clingy for real—cups her boobs, thumbs along her sides, nuzzles his face on the crook of her neck, nips her collarbone.
you tell him it’s ticklish and simon murmurs his apologies even as pulls you to his lap because he wants to touch you more. no more tickles this time though, he promises :(((
AAAAAAAHH im found dead xp !!!
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elizzsush · 1 month
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Deadpool coded reader:
Reader: dramatically and sadly, “Day 925, the bats show no sign of releasing me- a totally normal and amazing citizen from this prison.”
Reader; “he has left the second scariest Robin to guard me, Jason.”
Red hood: a little offended; “Second?”
Reader: shuttering looking like she’s reliving something, “Damien is like a angry dog, he bites.”
Reader: “also is this lega- and he walked away. Hey! I want to speak to a lawyer!!”
Reader: now yelling “I have rights!!! I think- do you have rights in Gotham?”
_______________
Batman: finally shows up.
Reader: “hey It’s You! You know if I head a penny for a rich completely normal guy who is the center of a multi million  franchise of hero’s- while also being a hero himself through the means of money… well Id have two pennies!”
Dick: “what…?”
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brewed-pangolin · 6 months
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MDNI 18+
Gym Rat Soap is so outrageously possessive of you that if he comes home to you pleasuring yourself, he takes it as a personal challenge and will go out of his way to make you come solely for him.
And he's not holding back. He'll pull out all his pleasure tricks (except pulling out. That's a possessive no no.)
He starts with his usual tried and true method of fingering you so good against the wall that your legs turn to numbed jelly within minutes. Holding yourself up against his chest while you moan his name into the fabric of his sweat ladened shirt.
"Tha's it, bonnie. Ya come for me. And only me."
Next is his feast. Tossing you onto the dinner table like a sacrificial lamb and delving immediately between your thighs. Lapping at your folds like a starved and dehydrated animal. Hell bent on consuming you whole for his own pleasured ego while you cry his name to the heavens and writhe in steady overstimulation.
"Oh my God, Johnny!"
"No God 'ere, lass. Only me."
To finally close out his pleasured torture and culminate in his ultimate taking of you, he throws you over his shoulder and stomps his way to the bedroom to begin his pièce de résistance. Your calves hoisted onto his shoulders, his hands griping like a vice into the sides of your torso as he pistons his cock at just right angle, making you see stars and completely losing the capacity for speech and all other thoughts until all you could think of was him. And only him.
"Jo-, Jo-, John-"
"Tha's it. Say my name, bonnie."
"JOHNNY!"
And with a series of roars that would undoubtedly have the neighbors calling to report an escaped lion, he empties himself completely into the silken walls of your cunt. Marking you as his own as his hips falter. His hands grabbing at your limp form as he cradles you against his chest and reassures just how good you are for him. For him. And only him.
Gym Rat Soap Masterlist
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Nothing to see here just Spencer admiring the ass of the worlds dilfiest dilf
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sweaterrat · 3 months
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Donnie from Not a fan of mystics by @doodlingbiscuit !
He’s so cute I love him :]
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tasty-ribz · 2 years
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[MESSAGE FROM THE CLERGY]
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loveanddeepthroat · 2 days
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Unlucky Thirteen
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Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.
Word Count - 2.4k
Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!
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Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.
It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.
Again.
The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.
She had to be in the Medical Bay.
He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.
In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.
Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies. 
When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.
He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.
The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.
He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.
Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.
He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him. 
He had to get into the Medical Bay.
His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.
“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.
She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”
Damn.
Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.
“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”
Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.
“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.
The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.
The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.
He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children. 
It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else. 
He wasn’t sure if he ever had.
The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.
“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”
He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.
The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.
“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room. 
He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.
“What happened?” he blurted quietly.
She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.
“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.
The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.
The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.
Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too. 
But it couldn’t break. Right?
“Are they going to make it better?”
She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason. 
He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.
Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
That’s when he noticed it.
In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.
“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”
The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”
It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”
“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.
Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.
He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.
“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”
The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.
“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”
Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.
“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.
Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.
It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.
He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.
The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.
He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.
“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍
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maneskinwh0re · 3 months
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modern!sevika — [gym] headcannons (butch or femme!reader)
part 3
!! sfw + nsfw implied !!
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♡ she makes the pre-workout’s and/or smoothies while you fill up the water bottles.
♡ helps you with your diet and makes sure you eat enough but in the sweetest ways—based on your bulking goals or weight loss goals.
♡ just because she’s your girlfriend doesn’t mean she’s gonna take things easy on you. if you have goals, she’s gonna make sure you reach them.
♡ pays for your membership because she loves to spoil you.
♡ one time you felt adventurous, so you tried her weights (it didn’t go well).
♡ her back is CRAZY, you’ll stand behind the machine she’s on and subtly watch the way her muscles move. when she catches you staring she’ll just tease you about it.
♡ “you’re staring, love.”
♡ you get a little (a lot) flustered whenever she lets out any quiet whimpers or groans as she’s lifting her heavier weights. when she’s done, she’ll stand up breathing hard, then confused by your flushed face while you silently hand her her water and avoid eye contact.
♡ “what?” ♡ “nothing…” ♡ “no, what is it?” ♡ “really, it- it’s nothing.”
♡ she just hums inquisitively at your stutters, and eventually if you keep up the innocent/denial act, your gym sesh ends with a quickie in the bathroom.
—i kinda wanna write a smut chapter based on this but lmk if y’all want it lol
- bee xx
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nickfurysrighteye · 8 months
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college au!chase davenport x fem!reader PART 2
summary: after your kiss in the library things between you and chase get a lot more..intense
cw: NSFW!! male masturbation, oral + fingering (f! receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), moaning kink (idk if there's a proper name for it or if it's even a thing but oh well), use of pet names (ex. baby, love), dirty talk, cumming inside.
words: 5.2k
a/n: this is my first time writing something this smutty so i hope you like it :) if you missed the first part, clik here
MDNI!!!
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after your "study session" at the library you were left wondering if chase felt what you felt, if that kiss is haunting him like it does with you. it's the only thing you can think about. during lectures, while you study, while you're talking with your friends, the only thing going through your head is that kiss. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands all over your body giving you that tingling sensation.
the fact is, that kiss is not only haunting chase like it's haunting you, but it has become an obsession. he can't stop replaying that moment in his head and his imagination is taking over, making up fantasies about fucking you at any time in any place. he can't no longer study because his mind is filled up with images of you naked laying on his bed moaning out his name as you cum on his face while he's eating you out. he likes to imagine your tits bouncing as you ride his dick, your wet cunt spilling cum all over him.
it's perverted but he can't help it, he gets so hard at the thought of cumming inside of you his dick aches. he lays on his bed every night with his eyes closed imagining fucking you over and over and over again while he pumps his dick with his hand. "fuuuck..y/n please..oh my god..holy shit" he whimpers and moans while thick loads of cum cover his hand. he never had sex but he also never thought about it like this until that kiss with you in the library.
your number saved on his phone stays untouched, he's too scared to text you or call you. if he has these kind of thoughts while you're not around he doesn't want to know what his mind will come up with once he's with you.
chase's torn though, he's scared but doesn't want you to think he doesn't like you. one afternoon he decides to text you.
"hey y/n it's Chase, i'm so sorry about not texting you sooner. i'd really love to see you." once the text is sent he throws his phone on the bed, he's so scared you'll be too mad at him to even respond to his text.
his phone chimes. it's you.
"hey chase, I'd love to see you too. mind if I come over tonight?" oh my fucking god she wants to see me he thinks, he really didn't expect you to be this calm.
"sure, why don't you come over around nine thirty?"
"perfect i'll see you later :)"
-
at nine o'clock the doorbell rings and Chase opens the door to find you standing there.
"hi" you smile.
"hi, come on in."
"i'm having deja vu" you laugh trying to shake off the tension. you hope he doesn't sense how nervous you are, and if he does you hope he's as nervous as you.
"would you like some tea?" chase ask kindly as he walks to the kitchen.
"sure, thanks." you follow him. "where's your brother?"
"oh adam went out with his friends, honestly i have no idea where he is but he won't be back soon." his back's facing you as he prepares the tea, boiling hot water already in the kettle. you lean against the counter.
"so... we're alone?"
"yeah, i thought it wouldn't be a problem considering what we did when we were alone last time." he looks at you with a smirk while handing you a mug. you try to hide your smile. you go sit down on the couch and chase follows you, sitting down next to you. he places his mug onto the coffee table.
"look i don't wanna ruin this already but there's something i wanna talk to you about. about the library thing..i- i liked..kissing you.. and i would have continued what we were doing but i panicked and just ran out and i was too scared to call-"
"chase." you stop his spiral "I really liked kissing you too." a soft smile appears on his lips as he look down embarrassed.
"sorry, I'm nervous. i just like you. a lot."
you put down your mug and get a bit closer to him. "i like you too, a lot. since we kissed i couldn't stop thinking about you. actually i've never stopped thinking about you since i first talked to you." you stop for a moment, gazing at his features once again. it all comes back again: the warmth, the ecstacy, feeling his touch all over you, how his lips felt so familiar onto yours, like they had always belonged there.
it's not easy, explaining the longing desire not only your body but also your mind has for him. any experience, any connection you had with anyone else before compared to him becomes dull, vain, shallow. you only shared a kiss and it's eating you alive.
your hand finds it's way onto his neck and pull him closer. this time he kisses you more roughly, with more passion. his hands are quick to travel all over your body again pulling you even closer. all of chase's thought are about having you as close as possible to him, he has been longing your warmth for days. he takes your leg and brings it over to his other side so that you're sitting on top of him. his kisses get sloppier, messier, his tongue savors yours like he's been starved for weeks. he grabs your ass, making you whimper a little.
"god you're so cute when you do that."
his lips quickly crash back onto yours and he holds you even closer making you giggle into the kiss. your heart is palpitating and your body gets hotter and hotter as your tongues swirl together. slowly, you start moving your hips, grinding against his groin, making chase moan. you can feel his pants getting tighter as his dick gets harder with your every move, you can feel his hard tip pushing against your clit through your pants. your lips gradually move from his lips to his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as you pick up the pace with your hips. the fair scent of his cologne inebriate you as you suck and bite at his skin, leaving little red and purpleish spot on his neck.
chase pushes back his head, soft moans come out of his mouth as his breath becomes shorter. this is better than any scenario he imagined for this night, it would be even better if he gets to act out the fantasies that had been taunting him since the last time you met.
"you don't know how much i wanted this." his whisper's followed by a soft grunt.
"there's so much more i can do to you if you want me to"
your hands slide down his torso, getting closer to the waistband of his pants. clarity hits chase for a brief moment and all of a sudden he feels hesitant. he fantasized about doing certain things to you but he had never done it in real life. a wave of anxiety takes over him. what if he can't make you feel as good as he wants you to? what if he can't do it at all? you move your head away from his neck and go to kiss him on the lips again but you see the doubtful look in his eyes.
"chase, did i say something wrong? are you ok?" the last thing you wanted to do is make him uncomfortable.
"i..uh.."
"we can stop if you want." you start lifting your leg to get off of him but chase stops you.
"no i don't wanna stop. it's just that i..uh..i've never done it before. i actually never done any of this before."
you laugh softly "does that mean i get to be your first?"
-
you're laying on his bed, chase's on top of you, you feel the warmth of his body heating you up, he's leaving faint kisses all over your neck and collarbone. your fingers intertwine and you get lost in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.
chase lowers one of his hands to undo the button of your pants, he slide them off your legs. he stops for a moment to admire your body, feeling your curves with his fingertips, causing you to have chills running down your spine.
he hooks his fingers to the sides of your panties, his eyes glued to the wet spot in the middle.
"may i?" he looks up at you for approval. you nod your head so he gently slides them down your legs, tossing them aside. then, he spreads your legs a bit more to fully marvel at your wet folds, touching them lightly with two fingers.
"can i eat you out? please?" you never had a guy staring at you with those lustfull eyes begging you to eat you out. "yes, yes please."
chase then quickly presses his lips onto your soaked cunt, brushing his tongue against your wet lips. he whirls it around until he finds your clit, your heart racing as soon as he hits the spot.
"is this ok?" does this feel good?" he stops to look at you when he hears a faint whimper coming out of you.
"it feels really good please keep going." your fingers find their way through his soft brown hair, messing it up and tugging lightly at his scalp. chase keeps pressing onto your sensitive clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it.
"oh my god chase" your moans awake something in him, making him go faster and harder. he can't help but groan into your cunt, you just taste too good. he gets so much pleasure from just tasting you, he would have never imagined your cunt being so addictive.
you moan and whine, feeling your orgasm grow in your lower belly, but you don't want to cum just yet. while his tongue is focused on your clit, chase's fingers feel the wetness of your folds, then he carefully slides two fingers in. slowly he starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside you. your cunt feels so tight around his fingers, the only thing he thinks about is how good it would feel to have it wrapped around his dick.
each curl of his fingers sends chills down your entire body, like electricity running through your veins. clear, slick fluids covering them more and more with each thrust as his tongue brushes against your bud. the silence of the room is filled with your desperate moans, at this point you're not even trying to hide how good it feels having him between your legs.
the sweet sounds escaping your mouth fill him pleasure. his pants have become so tight around him he's just craving some release. he can feel precum leaking from his tip, soaking his underwear, as he grinds against the bed while his face's buried in your cunt, lapping up all your juices like he has been dying of thrist.
you can't take it anymore, you just want to have him. you need him. you need to feel him inside of you. you want to fuck him until he begs because he can't take it anymore.
"chase please i need you..please chase fuck me" you moan louder and louder, your cunt pulsating as you get closer and closer. suddenly he stops, taking out his fingers, licking them clean. the absence of his touch is making you ache, your body needs more of him. it needs to feel more of him. he takes off his shirt, showing off his toned body, his pants hang lower from all the grinding so the v line of his hips is showing. your eyes scan his body, going lower and lower, admiring all of his features. the faint line of light brown hairs guides your eyes from his belly down to the waistband of his underwear showing from his jeans.
chase notices you're staring; he chuckles "what?"
"nothing.. it's not every day i get to see a guy with a body like that between my legs, so i wanna enjoy the view." you lightly bite your lower lip, your words make chase laugh a little more as his cheeks become a fair red color.
chase leans back down to kiss you ardently, hands traveling up your shirt, cupping your breasts. he takes the shirt off of you, having you now fully naked on his bed. he couldn't ask for a more beautiful view. his eyes land on your round tits, they're even better than he imagined, so soft and full.
"you're so fucking beautiful." he dives into your neck, leaving a trace of harsh kisses, licking and nibbling the soft skin. your hands find their way to his bulge, applying enough pressure to make him groan.
"ugh fuck – i want to fuck you so badly" he moans into your neck as he holds you closer.
you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper "then take your pants off."
-
now chase's lying on the bed, completely stripped, his long, thick dick in your hand throbbing and soaked with precum. you tease him by rubbing it against your folds, wetting his tip.
"please y/n, please"
"you want me to ride you? you want me to make you feel good chase?"
"yes please y/n, i want you to make me feel good please ugh –" his words turn into moans as you slide your cunt against his length and slowly grind the tip against your clit, getting him all nice and wet.
you decide it was enough with the teasing so you take his dick and slowly insert it inside you, taking it all inch by inch.
"oohh fuck —" he hisses, you take your time starting to pump his dick inside you, fully adjusting to his length. you start to find your rhythm, slowly going up and down, moving your hips, savoring every movement, every sensation having him inside you makes you feel. chase's hands travel up and down your thighs and caress your warm skin. he moves them upwards and grabs firmly at the soft skin of your ass, making your hips move at a quicker pace. although he loves how you're making him feel so good, making him feel a type of plesure he never experienced before and could have never experienced it without you, he needs more.
"ugh — your pussy feels so fucking good" he lets out, his eyes close for a moment and he lets his head go even more further into the pillows. this still isn't enough though. his body yearns for more. he plants his feet firmly on the bed so he can prop his hips up and push you even harder down his dick, now he's fully guiding you up and down while gripping your ass so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a red mark afterwards. he hits your sweet spot so hard you can't help but moan and whimper, completely melting as he thrusts deeper into you. those harmonious sounds that leave your pretty lips make him spiral; his ears have never been blessed with such lovely sound before this very moment, he wants to give you even more pleasure just so he can keep hearing the sweet noises you make for him. he frees one of his hands from your hips and wonders down to where the two of you are connected. he place his thumb onto your sentive clit, rubbing small circles.
the moans become even louder and he can't help but listen, completely in awe. the fact he can give you this much pleasure feeds his ego in a way he could have never expected. you sink into him and suddenly he wraps an arm around your body, keeping a tight grip onto your side. a thick white ring forming at the base of his dick, now the whimpers and the moans mixed with wet sounds.
"—shit i'm gonna fucking cum - fuck chase oh fuck – oh my god "
"yeah baby just like that — cum on my cock just like that ~"
a wave of electricity passes through your body as you reach your climax, as chase still pushes your hips up and down to fuck you through your high you let your body relax onto him. his grip turns into an embrace, protecting your body from the cold air of the room. chase moves his hand to your cheek to move away some strands of hair that covered your pretty fucked out face, placing a gentle kiss onto your lips while the two of you are still connected at your core.
"let's..slow down for a minute..ok?" words escape your lips between breaths while a soft smile curved your lips.
"we can take all the time you want baby" chase caresses your pink, warm, cheeks and kisses you gently, moving his lips delicately. it's different from before; this time it's not passion what you can perceive into the kiss, but rather love. it's a kiss to make you feel taken care of, to show to you you're not just a piece of meat to him. no guy who only wanted you for your body would kiss you the way chase does and he wants to be sure you feel that with each and every movement of his lips.
he gracefully turns you around so that you're laying on the bed below him, still caressing your skin and leaving soft pecks onto your lips, cheeks, neck and collarbone.
"you wanna keep going?" you look up at him with big shiny eyes. he nods and places himself at your entrance, your cunt's still wet and puffy. he pushes back in and starts to thrust with his hips gradually finding a steadier rhythm. as he slides back and forth he kisses you tenderly but the more his pleasure grows the messier the kisses become. an arm swiftly moves beneath you, his palm open against your back, drawing you closer to his body and elevating your hip to thrust even deeper. he touches your sweet spots again and low, soft moans come out of you.
the rush your moans give him feel is unbelievable. they turn him on so much. he picks up the pace, panting and groaning as he feels your tight walls wrap around him, clenching each time he hits your favorite spot.
"please chase don't stop – ugh how can you be this fucking good —" your words feed his ego so much his lips curl into a smirk.
"if you don't want me to stop, let me hear those sweet sounds you make f'me –"
chase lifts his body up and spreads your legs to bring your cores closer and thrust harder. "spread your legs f'me baby ~ like that, wider." chase's hand travels from behind your back down to your clit and begins to rub it in circle motions once again, giving you that heavenly sensation.
"fuck! – chase –"
all of a sudden, you hear a muffled sound of keys rattling in the distance, followed by the sound of the front door being shut closed. a dulled voice starts echoing through the hallway.
"shit your brother's home" you're quite surprised by his early return home, it can't be later than eleven.
adam enters the apartment, throwing his keys on the little table next to the front door.
" – what did you want me to do man? i wouldn't have left if your friend wasn't a piece of shit! –" he spits his words angrily at the person he was talking to on the phone "– what does that have to do with anything? dude if you don't want someone flirting with your girl don't fucking bring her to the party! whatever man i gotta go, i'll see you tomorrow." a deep annoyed groan leaves his mouth as he falls back on the charcoal colored couch, letting his head fall against the cushion and rubbing his tired eyes with his fingertips. his eyelids fall heavy, his head hurts a little bit from the couple of drinks he had at his friend's place so to calm the throbbing adam stays there lying against the cushion.
despite your concern, chase doesn't stop thrusting into you for a single second, with the same force, trying to savour the pleasure. his finger's still rubbing small circles around your clit, waves of pleasure come crashing into you with every move, your cunt getting more and more wet and making his dick slide in and out of your needy hole with more and more ease. it was aphrodisiacal for him, seeing you like this, almost as if you were a drug: legs spread, tits bouncing back and forth with every thrust..although his favorite thing is seeing your cunt all stretched out by his cock, wrapping it all and making it so so wet, milky fluid spilling out of the sides every time his thick cock makes his way into you. on top of all of this, he's the one getting you this wet, making you feel so good you moan his name. except that now instead of the sweet sounds he likes so much, all he hears are soft whines muffled by a pillow you keep close to your mouth with your hand.
"why so quiet now huh?"
"your brother's gonna hear us."
"you think i care? it's not like he worries about noise when he brings girls over while I'm home" he leans closer to your ear "also there's nothing that turn me on more that hearing your sweet voice moaning my name" his lips leave hot kisses on your neck as he whispers "so please love let me hear how good i make you feel" he grabs both of your wrists with his left hand, pinning them above your head so that you can't cover your face and he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
"ugh — chase -"
"yeah like that keep going – louder" the thrusts get harder and quicker.
"ugh chase – oh fuck ugh–" you raise your voice even more, the pleasure is becoming so much you feel another orgasm approaching.
"fuck y/n – you're gonna make me fucking come–" he frees your wrists and instead wraps one arm around you, crushing you with his body and placing the other hand on your puffy clit again.
"oh please don't stop don't stop don't stop ~"
"ugh 'm gonna fill you up – you're so fucking tight you feel so good baby ~"
the loud sounds the both of you make are muffled by the locked bedroom door, but it's not enough to make them unable to hear.
adam's eyes open again, he fell asleep briefly and somehow wakes up with an even bigger headache, so big his ears must have started hearing weird things... like the sounds coming from his brother's bedroom? no it can't be, he thinks, chase never has girls over, is he watching porn? adam waits a few moments sitting still on the couch, then his gaze falls on the two full but cold cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. confused, adam starts scanning the room with his eyes for other unusual signs: a leather jacket hanged on the coat rack, along with a scarf and a small bag, both of which are neither his or his brother's.
more muffled sounds come from behind the closed door "chase please –"
a disgusted expression falls onto adam's face when he realizes what's happening "oh my god! are you kidding me!? ugh so gross!" he brings his hands to his ears and walks away to his room, the more he tries to not hear the more disgusted he gets. adam shuts the door of his room loudly, making his presence clear as if you didn't already know he was home.
chase’s face is buried into your neck, kissing it and breathing in your scent as he gets closer to climax. at this point, his thrusts have become so quick and messy he's barely pulling out before he pushes hard back into you. he's inebriated. your legs, wrapped around his waist keeping him close, tremble each time he pushes into you and graze your sweet spot with the tip of his dick. moans come out of your mouth one after the other against his ear. your hands are placed against his back and you're unconsciously digging your nails into his skin, slowly dragging them down and leaving red marks that are emphasized even more by his fair complexion. he's definitely going to brag about them later. your mouth's wide open when you feel your walls clench against him, breath hitching with his every thrust, and suddenly the pleasure overwhelms you, hitting you hard as you cum for a second time. moans becoming cries of plesure filling the room when your orgasm drowns you and draw chase even closer to the edge. he can't no longer contain himself and with loud groans he spills thick long ropes of cum into you. he's moaning, swearing, spilling out incoherent half sentences while still thrusting into you fucking the both of you through your high.
when it wears off, chase gradually slows down until he finally stops and catch his breath. your heart's beating so fast you can feel almost jumping out of your chest, you feel your tired legs ache the moment you let go of chase's waist and relax them onto the bed. still all inside you, chase rests his body onto you, buring his face into the crook of your neck once again.
"holy shit –" his voice is soft and quiet since he's still catching his breath. his words make you chuckle and he can't help but smile against your skin. he could listen to your laugh forever.
chase lifts his body up and pulls out of you, letting the white fluid spill out of your puffy hole. "i'm gonna go get something to clean you up with ok? i'll be right back." he smiles softly with his rosy lips, then leans down to place a gentle kiss yours while caressing your warm cheek with his thumb.
"okay." you smile back at him.
-
a beam of light shines through the drawn curtain and touches the bare skin of your face and shoulders, the warmth is comforting. you can feel arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead as you wake up and your eyes adjust slowly to the light. you and chase lie skin to skin, both of you only wearing your underwear. being this close to him, you can feel his sweet-smelling scent with each breath you take.
"good morning" chase's voice is lower and a little raspy "did you sleep well?" he delicately moves little strands of hair out of your face with his fingers, then places them onto your satiny cheek.
"yeah. i really like your voice in the morning." he laughs softly at your compliment, his smile is so contagious you can't help but giggle with him.
"thank you" he says with his low voice, "are you hungry? i can make you something to eat if you want."
"sure"
"alright, i'll go to the kitchen real quick, I'll be right back." he places three pecks on your face: on your cheek, then the corner of your lips and then finally your lips. then, chase gets out of the bed and throws on a grey short-sleeved tshirt that was lying around, just to wear something more than only his briefs. he heads for the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind him.
he finds adam already up and dressed, standing at the front door about to leave.
"what are you doing up so early?" adam asks him with a slight surprise in his tone, despite being him who usually wakes up late.
"i could ask you the same question. where are you going?"
"i was gonna go have breakfast at the café down the street, didn't wanna disturb you and your...friend. 'm not really used to being the odd man out."
"yeah, I guess that doesn't happen a lot." chase finds the role reversal pretty ironic and kinda hard to believe, he didn't think there was ever going to be a situation like this.
"what about you? what are you doing?"
"oh i was gonna make y/n something to eat. she's still in bed."
adam starts to chuckle at his brother words "chase, really? you're making her breakfast?" the innocent smile that was once plastered across chase's face fades away "you're so naive it's adorable."
"what? i wanted to do something nice for her."
"those kind of things are boyfriend things, you don't do that with a one night stand. you never give a girl boyfriend treatment when you're not the boyfriend. the way this works is: she comes over, you hook up then leave her out the front door when you're done."
"well..what if i don't wanna do that? what if i wanna give her the "boyfriend treatment" because i would actually like to be her boyfriend?"
adam laughs loudly like chase just asked him the dumbest question in the world, which to him sounds like it. "like you would ever date y/n. she's waaaay out of your league. it would be a miracle if you even got close to go out with her once, let alone date her. trust me, be happy you two fucked and give up."
as soon as adam is finished with his sentence he opens the front door and leaves, his laughs still lingering in the room as chase stands still in front of the dor. suddenly, the sound of another door opening catches his attention. you come outside of chase's room, wearing only the shirt he had on the previous night and your underwear. he turns around to see you getting closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.
"hey, what's with that face? everything's ok?" you look up at him worried, you didn't hear much of their conversation besides their muffled voices and adam's laugh. chase smiles softly trying to hide doubt his brother's words have raised in him.
"it's nothing, don't worry about it." you don't respond, you just furrow your eyebrows and look at him with those shiny eyes.
chase shakes his head slightly, pondering whether or not tell you. "it's dumb, really...it's just that – mhm – no, no, just – just forget it. forget i said anything."
"what is it chase?"
he takes a deep breath then exhales "i don't want...this to be a one time thing, nor a "friends with benefits" thing. i'm really, really, attracted to you and i'd love to take you out on a date, do things the way you're supposed to." at first, you don't say anything, your gaze is glued on him.
"i knew it was dumb, i'm so-"
"I'd love to go on a date with you."
his smile grows wide again "are you serious?" you simply nod, which is enough to make his smile even bigger. he cups your cheeks with both of his hands and cloeses the distance between you two, crashing your lips together with a big smile still plastered onto his face.
"i'm sorry you must be hungry, i'll go make some breakfast."
"oh don't worry there's no need to rush."
"then what do you wanna do?"
you look up at him, lips curled in a sly smile.
"i'm up for morning sex if you are."
the same sly smile appears on his face instantly.
"let's go to the bedroom."
-
a/n: thank you for reading and most importantly thank you so much for the patience!!! i really hope y'all enjoyed this fic <3
tag: @maggiecc @kenshomin @thechalkprincessemma @vildetry06 @sexiestmfdeadoralive
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saintjezebel483 · 4 months
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His eye 🫠 ✨
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strang3lov3 · 1 year
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VS
Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.
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This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”
Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.
W/C: 4.7k
“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 
“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”
“Sounds cool.”
“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”
None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 
Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 
So what was Joel there for?
To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 
It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.
 Comedy gold.
“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”
Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”
“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”
“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”
Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 
You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”
“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 
You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 
“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 
“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”
“So where’d you get your clothes from?”
Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”
Sounds like Joel. 
There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.
“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 
“You’re joking.”
“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”
Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”
“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”
You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 
Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 
He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”
You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”
“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”
“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 
“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”
“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”
“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 
“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”
So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”
A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.
“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”
“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”
Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”
“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”
“Why not?”
“I just don’t wanna.”
But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”
Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”
“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”
 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”
You don’t believe in TMI. 
You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 
You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”
“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 
You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 
Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”
“Not interested.”
You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”
You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”
Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”
You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?
The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–
You interrupt. “The fuck?”
“What?”
“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 
“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 
“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”
“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 
Men. No help at all. 
Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 
Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.
You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 
“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”
“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 
And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 
You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”
Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 
And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”
You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”
“You never make things easy for me, do you?”
Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 
Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.
Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 
You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.
Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. “What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”
 “Why not?”
“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.
“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”
Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”
You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 
You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.
You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 
Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 
“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.
“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”
Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”
Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”
“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”
“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 
“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”
His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”
And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.
“Right,” you agree. 
Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.
“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”
“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.
His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”
“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.
“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”
“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”
You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”
You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”
You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 
“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”
You nod again.
“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”
“I-I dunno, Joel.”
“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”
You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.
“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”
You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.
“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”
You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.
“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”
With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”
Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 
While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 
Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”
You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.
He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.
“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”
He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 
He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.
“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”
“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 
“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”
“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 
“What’s the magic word, hon?”
“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”
“Wrong,”
You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 
 “It’s Cinnabon.”
Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 
He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 
“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”
Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 
“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”
You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 
You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 
Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 
He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 
“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.
Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”
That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 
‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 
Part two here
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