#thanks for putting up with my lonely self | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sirenhub · 3 months

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LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

#( 𝑣𝑚𝑝. ) 𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐 ､､#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon vendetta #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #x reader #resident evil smut

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awzominator · 6 days

Text

Day 13 Scars

the amount of effort I had to put into these and they still don’t look how I want is frustrating but alas time is not on my side

ramblings under the cut

Mikey: Gave Mikey Lichen Burns from that one time he got disintegrated and then reanimated via electricity. He died n got better and honestly it is one of the most violent injuries that I recall for him. Like he plays it off so easily cuz he has super powers and all that jazz but that’s so messed up. Also Raph yelling for him OOOFFFFF will never forget how filled w rage and hurt that dude was. He was ready to kill ❤️ Such a wild episode and I love how Mikey was so depended on in order for the plan to succeed. It was Mikey’s turn for the Self sacrificing bit and he crushed it

Leo: Get Shreddered idiot!!! The fucked up knee and throat from when he got beat up and thrown thru the window. This is def my fav event to happen which is a wild thing to say. It’s the most obvious thing to go for but I personally loved the farmhouse arc and Leo’s need for recovery. That dude is still not well and is repressing stuff but they don’t have time to heal. Their lives are too chaotic, too much is on the line, and Leo can’t afford to take the time to heal 100% none of them can tbh. I know a lot of ppl hate how 12 handled his knee injury but I loved it Bc it’s obviously not better but he’s a stubborn idiot who chooses to push everything down and out. He is the healthiest turtle for sure. I’m pretty sure in later episodes his knee gives out a few times don’t quote me tho it’s been a few years aha

Raph: His broken shell! After watching Lone Rat and Cubs and seeing where it came from, I always wondered if Splinter looks at it with loads of regret. A physical sign of his short comings that one time they almost got caught by the Kraang. A warning and a constant reminder they’ll never be safe, that splinter wont always be able to protect his babies no matter how hard he fights. I also like to HC he becomes the most hovering and overprotective of Raph while he’s still recovering Bc that shell broke so easy. Honestly seeing screen shots of close ups of Raphs shell is awesome to see both shell and plastron are broken.

Donnie: UGHHH THIS DUDEEEE !!!!! Literally had the hardest time Bc he goes thru a lot also but it’s more emotional and mental dude is fuked up in the head fr. I asked several ppl for help Bc I didn’t want to do another lichen burn thing from Karai’s trap. In the end I played around w the suggestions to see what would look most appealing to me. The scars on arm are from Slash (such a good episode thank you for the suggestion 🙌) as his arm was injured and in a sling at the end of the episode. The head scar def a big creative liberty Bc he does get injured there a lot ahah. I was thinking of Fourtrap again which lead to thinking about the time that Leo blew him up accidentally during is emo phase XD

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmntember #tmntember2024 #12yearsoftmnt2012 #tmnt2012artchallenge #Awzominator art #If u read the ramblings godspeed #Idk if they make sense I don’t do words sorry

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majinbangus · 1 month

Text

I literally just wanted a sugar daddy/mama!au. Maybe I'll talk about sugar daddies!141 x sugar baby!reader after this. I am not an expert in sugaring, so bear w me here. readers age is not told either, but i imagine reader to be younger than price.

Times are tough; the 141 need funding the government isn't willing to cough up. Price's solution? Getting them a sugar mama.

You never expected your profile to be picked. It was a silly thing you signed up for in a moment of weakness when you were feeling sad and lonely, wallowing after a messy break up. You even forgot about it after a week, throwing yourself in your self-made business, working when you didn't have to, but you needed to bury yourself in it. It's no surprise you forgot all about your little profile, but it is a surprise when you see a missed inquiry from a Mr. John Price about a day old.

Hello, darling. I've never been on this side of the message before, but my boys and I don't have many options, and I needed a solution fast. I saw your profile and I think you'd be a good match for us. We're a package deal, the four of us. You don't have to pay us exactly, we just need some funding for our work. My boys and I are willing to provide you with any type of company you desire. We don't mind sharing and we take care of what's ours. There are other little details we can go more in depth later, although I might not be able to tell you everything. I'd like to hear what you have to say and any questions you may have. Hope to hear from you soon, Capt. John Price

Everything about the message is... strange... to put it kindly, but you can't help but feel this Capt. John Price is being sincere. Maybe that's a naive, lonely part of you that's convincing yourself that the message is real and not some scam. Maybe you're desperate enough to believe someone- four someone's!- actually have an interest in you.

For what you can give them, but you're not entirely innocent either. This Captain Price- you assume he's military- said he and his boys will give you what you need, and if he's a man of his word, maybe they can distract you from all the noise in your head.

You stare at the message. It wouldn't hurt to take a risk, would it? You can always block the man if he ends up being a creep.

It takes you an hour to finally work up the nerve to craft a small message back to the man. It takes less than a minute for him to respond.

Glad to hear from you, darling. I'll tell you everything you need to know.

The rules are simple.

You fund them with enough money each month they need it for however long they need, and they'll give you all the companionship you want. Whether that's sexual or not is up to you. It doesn't matter to them, though John informed you that if it is sexual, you would need to discuss any limits with the other men yourself. With him, you got to briefly stutter through your likes and dislikes, and he did the same, after discussing all of the rules and expectations.

You don't know if you should be thankful or not when he listened with such intense focus. Like you were briefing him on a mission or whatever it is captains like him do. It makes you nervous. He makes you nervous. Not quite in a bad way, but you've never done this before. The idea of paying another person, well this task force, in exchange for some company to fill your pathetic void feels kind of... sad.

You almost talk yourself out of this whole crazy thing, but you're also kind of curious what could come of it. If John and his boys will really be able to distract you and make you forget how lonely you are.

Being alone, being lonely, never really bothered you before, but after your last relationship... It opened up some old wounds and this sugar arrangement could be the perfect distraction. If only for a while. You'll take whatever you can get at this point.

You look over the messages John sent you, lingering over the pictures he sent of him and the other three men. Well. Two men. John told you this Simon guy would show you his face himself if he wanted to. You don't know if it's a sexual thing or not or something else entirely. You were too afraid to ask, and you don't really know if you want to know. But the other three are handsome, if the pictures John sent aren't fake.

You're still not entirely sure you should trust him. Trust that you're not gonna get all your money stolen. The site you signed up on is reputable for sugar mamas and sugar babies. You couldn't find a bad review written about it. Only positive testimonies with positive outcomes. That could be suspicious in and of itself. Hopefully, you didn't make a mistake.

John said that he would meet you next week when he had time off. Alone. In a public space, but alone. He said he didn't want the boys to overwhelm you, and you're grateful for his consideration because you would have been overwhelmed if you met all of them at once.

You still have time to cancel, if the nerves get to you and you chicken out. John even told you you could back out any time you wanted. But. You want to do something different. You need to do something different. Get yourself out of your head and focus on anything else that doesn't make your mind feel like static.

These men can help with that. This'll be good for you. Probably.

As long as this doesn't end up with you mysteriously disappearing or getting murdered, you'll be content with whatever happens. Besides, it's good to do something out of your comfort zone, and what better way than becoming a sugar mama to four military men who can give you all the company and care you could ever want? Hell, that sounds weird to think about.

There are still little things you have to work around, such as their schedules, but John promised that at least one of them would always come when you called. Already, that gives you more comfort than he could ever know, and perhaps that's foolish of you, but it truly meant a lot when he told you that.

You scroll down to the last message John sent and feel something in your gut flutter.

Can't wait to meet you, Mama.

this might an anthology of sorts. maybe have some loose plot to it. idk.

#john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #f!reader #141 sweet treat <3

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moonstruckme · 28 days

Note

Doctor!remus whose constantly worried about reader because she always wants to ‘wait things out’ instead of going to the doctor 😭

Thanks for requesting <3

cw: mention of blood, mention of stitches (doesn't happen in the fic)

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

“Hey,” you call when the door opens, looking up from your project to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hello.” Remus lifts an eyebrow at the half-done puzzle on the coffee table as he toes off his shoes. You ignore the look until he’s behind you, sitting on the couch with his knees caging you on the floor. He leans down to kiss your cheek. “I see you’ve been working on it without me.”��

You hum complacently. “That’s what you get for staying late at work.”

He gives a monosyllabic, appalled laugh. “Oh, it’s like that, is it? I work late to catch up, and you just get to be as unfaithful as you like?”

“Unfaithful.” You roll your eyes, smiling as you turn to face him. He closes his eyes expectantly, and you kiss him. “You know the puzzle and I would’ve both rather had you here with us, but we get lonely. It’s only fair that we be allowed to keep each other company in your absence.”

“You’re absurd,” he says worshipfully. “What’ve you got there?”

You follow his gaze to your closed hand resting on his knee.

“Oh.” Your fingers flex self-consciously. “A paper towel.”

Remus’ smile is bemused. “You’re holding onto a paper towel?”

“Mhm.”

“Why, dove?”

“I just,” you keep your voice casual, hoping to inspire similar feelings of nonchalance in your easily-concerned boyfriend, “cut myself a bit earlier, so I thought I should keep pressure on it.”

Despite your efforts, that dreaded concern bends Remus’ expression. “You cut yourself? Why didn’t you put a bandage on it?”

“I tried, just it wouldn’t…stop bleeding.”

You’re avoiding his eyes now, but the brief, disbelieving silence and then the weary sigh tell you all you need to know.

“Let’s see it, then.”

You set your hand in the one he holds out for you.

However exasperated he might be, Remus is gentle as he removes the paper towel. He tsks when blood immediately wells up in your cut.

“This looks deep,” he muses. “How did it happen?”

“I was cutting up the cantaloupe you got us, and the knife slipped through where I wasn’t expecting it,” you explain sheepishly. “The point of it went in a little ways.”

“Oh, dove.” Remus folds your fingers over the paper towel again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “You didn’t cut yourself, you stabbed yourself, sweetheart. This needs stitches.”

“I thought it might,” you admit, “but I wanted to wait and—”

“Wait and see?” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look. “And how long ago did this happen?”

You exhale. “About noon.”

There’s some sympathy mixed into the disappointment in Remus’ expression. “So you’ve waited about seven hours, then. I think that’s long enough, don’t you?”

“I don’t know.” You look away from him, feeling chastised. “I thought maybe if it was still bleeding tomorrow morning I’d go.”

“Tomorrow morning? It’s already been all of today! How many paper towels have you gone through?”

“A few,” you mumble.

Remus’ sigh fans hot over your knuckles. He kisses them again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to take a tone with you. I just worry. Sometimes waiting and seeing can be dangerous, you know?”

“I wasn’t bleeding out,” you point out. “And I just felt like I had things to do, you know? Taking a bus to A&E wasn’t at the top of my priority list.”

“That’s when you call me,” he says, emphatic but not unkind. “And for future reference, I think a trip to A&E warrants an uber fare.”

You make a face that lets him know you’re not so sure. Remus chuckles.

“But we don’t have to deal with that now,” he goes on. “I’ll take you. Come on, let’s go.”

“What about the puzzle?”

“Your paramour will still be here for you when we get back, my love.”

688 notes · View notes

psychedelic-ink · 1 year

Text

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely.

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college.

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like.

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name.

Ravish

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was.

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen?

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard.

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him.

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps.

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.”

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most.

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later.

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug.

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore.

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself.

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet.

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks.

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop.

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!”

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.”

“Patience everyone.”

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .”

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor.

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . .

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out.

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?”

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles.

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.”

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible.

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again.

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.”

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet.

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got.

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it.

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal.

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.”

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.”

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good.

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.”

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone.

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm.

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?”

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias.

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?”

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.”

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud.

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.”

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter!

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come.

He wants them to come at the same time.

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up.

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera.

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time.

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet.

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes.

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor.

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release.

Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop.

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline.

Good girl.

Joel is a weak weak man.

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him.

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling.

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets.

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious.

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little.

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her.

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat.

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable.

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly.

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?”

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look.

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.”

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice?

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?”

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively.

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.”

You always call me that. Why? . . . Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean.

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.” she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.”

Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks.

“Can—Can you hear me?”

Her eyes sparkle.

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.”

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?”

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?”

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.”

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.”

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.”

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.”

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?”

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement.

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?”

“Would you laugh if I said no?”

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily. “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?”

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.”

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.

“Anything that you like, sir?”

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—”

“The heart-shaped ones?”

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.”

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?”

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.”

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.”

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples.

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch.

“Are you touching yourself, sir?”

“Yea.”

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.”

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted.

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?”

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it.

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.”

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?”

Fuck.

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword.

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough.

“Harder.”

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release.

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders.

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it.

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.”

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?”

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.”

“P-Pillow?”

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.”

“Shit, say that again.”

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—”

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat.

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.”

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?”

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight.

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.”

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him.

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips.

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.”

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking.

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.”

You hate visiting home.

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of.

JMiller.

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again.

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online.

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood.

Of course he did, he was perfect.

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late.

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you.

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line.

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.”

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.”

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.”

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.”

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull.

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind.

“You know what—”

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice.

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you.

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?”

You’re not but you kinda wish you were.

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.”

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after.

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.”

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters.

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale.

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask.

“You don’t have—”

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?”

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.”

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment.

Your rake your brain for answers.

Why?

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle?

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.”

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.”

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow.

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.”

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.”

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.”

Oh shit.

Shit shit shit shit.

It is him.

JMiller—J stands for Joel.

Fuck.

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .”

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.”

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.”

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.”

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.”

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that.

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel.

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Technically you bought it.”

“Right. . .”

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly.

“Are we still on for tomorrow?”

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.”

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction.

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself.

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice.

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.”

“Ask away.”

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss.

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward.

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods.

“Is that okay?”

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.”

His grin is infectious.

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.”

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home.

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had.

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company.

You found it incredibly charming.

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too.

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall.

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.”

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.”

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall.

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs.

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .”

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.”

You gasp, “P-Please.”

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze.

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled.

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock.

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—”

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face.

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!”

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper.

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—”

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing?

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.”

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.”

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs.

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.”

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean.

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing.

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild.

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth.

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.”

“You really had low expectations, huh?”

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.”

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.”

You smile, heart fluttering.

“Me too.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfiction #hbo the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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candychasse · 8 months

Text

Yandere Sim Male Rivals dealing with the, 'me, my s/o, and their 500 dollar life sized mareep plush' meme being their reality.

Characters: Osano, Amao, Kizano, Oko, Aso, Osoro, Megamo.

Contains: g/n reader, not proofread, fluff. At least five of the guys having beef with a plushie.

Osano.

"What the hell is that."

^ exact words he said when you came home with the adorable pokemon plush.

Despite his harsh words he does think the sheep is cute.

He will complain, like a lot.

"Move the damn sheep." He says loudly as he tries to get comfy in bed. You groaned slightly and moved the sheep to the other side of you. "Thank-" he stops himself as you turn your back to him! "Y/n." He calls out. You turn again to face him, bringing the Mareep to face him too. "Yes?" You ask, a grin slowly growing. "...whatever." He says turning his back to you, 'two can play that game' he thinks.

Two actually cannot play that game. In the morning you found him turned facing you, holding the Mareep tight. You snicker to yourself as you take a photo of him.

Amao.

He's not particularly the biggest fan of mareep, however, he does understand how much the plush means to you.

I'd imagine he'd try to convince you to move mareep somewhere else like, "Why don't we move Mareep to the couch so they can watch TV?"

^when that obviously didn't work. He accepted his fate.

You had just wrapped up closing the bakery for the day and headed upstairs in order to destress and enjoy the rest of your evening. You headed into your room to pick out pajamas, when you saw it. Amao carefully making the bed and placing Mareep front and center on the freshly made bed. "There!" He said with a smile. Your heart melted and you practically tackled him in a bear hug for his kindness toward Mareep.

Kizano.

He actually hates the sheep. No secret love of it or anything.

He thinks mareep is ugly and takes up too much space in bed.

It's the dead of night, you're sleeping peacefully in bed curled up with mareep. Kizano had just got home from a late night film shoot. He did his skincare routine and prepared for bed, but as he gets into bed he feels an unfamiliar lump in the bed. He tries not to make much noise as he pulls back the blanket and investigates the lump....

It's an ugly sheep?

He blinks in confusion for a few moments then simply casts the sheep aside to the ground, adjusting his body to replace the sheep's former place in your arms.

In the morning he pretends not to know of the plushie when you point out it must've fallen in the middle of the night.

"What plushie, my love?"

Bs.

Oko.

I think he'd just get depressed.

Like, I think he'd get self conscious. He really does like snuggling with you late at night, it's even better than summoning demons to him! But now all you do is snuggle Mareep.

Is he not good enough?

You only find out about his feelings towards Mareep during a late night while your a cleaning a stain off her.

"Hey.. Why don't we leave Mareep somewhere else, because she's dirty..?" Oko asks cautiously. You giggle slightly at the thought. "Nah! I'm sure I can clean her up enough!" You replied, dead set on removing the stain. "...great..." He whispers. "What was that?" You question. "I mean great! It'd be a shame if you couldn't cuddle them." He elaborates, but you know Oko, and you know when he's lying, so you decide to toy with him a little. "Well, if I couldn't get the stain off I'd just cuddle with you probably." You say 'off handedly'. "..oh so now you'd want to cuddle with me...." He mutters under his breath. You gasp finally putting the pieces together. "You're jealous of Mareep!" You exclaim loudly. His face turns flush from embarrassment, "..no." He replies turning his face away from you. A common tell of him hiding his feelings. "Well, if you are jealous of Mareep, which I know you're not, I would want you to know that I only got Mareep because I got lonely those nights you would run off to summon demons..." You confess, awkwardly looking down. "Oh, well, uhm, I'm not going out tonight.." He says and your eyes sparkle a little. "Get over here!" You say with a small smile, pushing Mareep to the side and holding Oko closely.

Aso.

LOVES THE DANG MAREEP.

He does however unintentionally abuses the Mareep. Think accidentally sitting on it, using it as a table, etc.

he says sorry to the Mareep everytime.

Throws it in the air really high that it hits the ceiling, BUT he does catch it!

It was a rare occasion where Mareep was chilling on the end of the bed while you and Aso cuddled. Right as the familiar embrace of sleep enveloped you both, a familiar thud was heard. "Aso, Aso, you kicked Mareep off the bed." You said while rubbing his shoulder to try and awaken him. He groaned "huh? Oh shoot! My bad..." He whispered, getting out of the warm bed and picking Mareep up from the floor. You giggled slight at the sight of him placing it carefully onto the bed and returning to your side.

Osoro.

Intentional Mareep abuse. Have you seen those tik toks of squishmallow girls' boyfriends beating up their squishmallows instead of just like, hugging it? Yeah that's Osoro.

HE DOESN'T HATE MAREEP THOUGH! Shockingly (heh get it) he likes the plushie.

"Osaro you're so mean! Mareep didn't do nothin' to you!" You exclaim with a gasp as he absentmindedly punches the mareep. "He's an inanimate object Y/n, he can't feel pain." Osaro replies while punching the Mareep again.

But like Kizana he is not above tossing it a side in order to cuddle with you.

Unlike Kizana he wouldn't put it on the floor but just to the side opposite of the one you're laying on.

Osaro tossed and turned in the middle of the night, to say he had a rough dream would be the least to say. He tries to move closer to you but is blocked by the giant Mareep. Grunting he grabs the Mareep and tosses it to where he was formerly laying. He wraps his arms around your waist and sighs. Now that he's in your arms his dreams seem nicer, even if that does sound silly.

Megamo.

He's a busy guy, being the heir to a mega corp, having his own passions, it's a lot on his plate. So most days he come home by the time you're already asleep.

I doubt he noticed you owned a life sized Mareep until one day...

Once again, we begin our story in the dead of night, you're tucked in, nice and warm. Meanwhile Megamo had just came in from the frigid rainstorm outside. He wasn't all too wet so he just changed clothes and headed to bed. Little did he know, the lump he was cuddling was not you.

In the morning, Megamo was face to face with a sheep's face instead of yours. To say he was a little upset would be an understatement.

He tries bribery, offering you any normal sized plushie you want.

He tries threatening saying that since you're cuddling Mareep you can't cuddle with him.

He even thinks about just throwing it out. But he knows how much it means to you. So he just silently moves it to the couch everyday, and every evening it's back on *his spot* on the bed.

He despises that damn sheep.

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balteredsworld · 3 months

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wilson’s hypothesis. gregory house

🥼🩺 | according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.

masterlist: greg house n all

warnings/tags! fluff of sorts, angst if you squint, talks of self-sabotage, idiots in love, sherlocked reference!!! (just watched 8x18—house self-sabotages so bad my lord)

author's note: lowkey hate this but it's idk what're we thinking fellow ducklings???

"wilson thinks i like you," house airs.

you throw him a strange glance.

"crazy, right?"

"yeah? and you think i like cameron," you mimic, matching his dismissive detachment to comedic effect.

only, house is serious.

“no, wilson thinks i like you.” house ignores your joke, repeating wilson’s solemn hypothesis.

when you pause to look at his face, your mind goes off into complete nonsense like's just tipped you over and left you with internal bleeding in your brain, upon the realization that he does, in fact, mean those words he's telling you.

"what makes him say that?"

"i'm apparently connecting with you,” house indulges, relaxing into the cold bit of wall behind him. the moonlight hits him in a more subtle way, half hidden in the shadows. the blue of his wrinkled shirt melts into the glow it radiates.

you're not particularly sure what to say. thankfully, he elaborates.

“you share your food with me, i take your food, ergo it means something in wilson's romantic world,” house offers, before quickly dismissing the thought of his supposed feelings for you. "but you know wilson, he's always been a romantic. thinks he can diagnose emotions as easily as diseases."

you consider the argument, "well couldn't that just mean i can't finish my food and you don't wanna get your own?"

he squints at you, as if with drills for eyes. you're playing dumb, unless you really believe that. but you don't.

you clear your throat, "well, do you believe that?"

"well it's either that or i must obviously like you."

you gawk. "well, do you?"

"do i have to spell it out for you?"

"wilson had to," you snark back. "so, do you?"

"no," he says with a flat face.

something in your chest drops, just as your brows shoot up. "no?"

"no," he reaffirms.

you don't know if you manage to catch your frown. house doesn't say anything if you didn't. you're more than a little embarrassed, surely flushed. you're thankful that the two of you are under the dim veil of night.

"well good thing," you grumble.

house looks at you with a curious look, as if he was almost offended you would say that. "good thing?"

“we’re both lonely. lonely means self-sabotage,” you explain, fiddling with one of the main trinkets that line the ledge. you were sure you proving your point, coming up with an off-putting rationale to cover up your embarrassment. "two self-saboteurs, well, that's an equation with proven unresolved issues... so yeah, good thing."

you were internally cringing at the words you were spitting out, but you were trying to play it cool. it's something that's never worked in your favour though when you were near an attractive guy, and you always swore this was to make them repulse the inkling of interest. and you swore off doing this years ago, but the blunt rejection, if you could call it that, sprung the teenager out of you.

then again, house affects you like that. blue eyes and blue shirt and all.

he makes it no secret that he's a ladies' man, often hitching hookers into the hospital despite cuddy's gentle parenting to make him stop. but house does whatever he wants in the hospital, hence all the lawsuits you've had to deal with.

when you look at him again, he's somehow uncharacteristically quiet. you're unsure if his speculative eyes are because of a lightbulb moment, but one thing's for sure: he was thinking.

"you're thinking, aren't you?" you glean in a tilt.

house doesn't say anything, but turns away from you. when he does, you're unsure if you see his lip curl in disappointment—he hides it too well. some part of you hopes, but you know you're not his type. a bit too much like him in the overanalyzing and overthinking.

and maybe you're convincing yourself, but realistically speaking, your happy arrangement of sharing food in the middle of a hospital shift may work for lonely and misery, but not for anything else. two people who like self-sabotage is like a dumpster fire.

you'd rather have house like this, happy and alarmingly blue.

"aaand you've stopped listening. i shall take that as my cue to leave," you announce, hopping off the ledge in the same ginger fashion you had waltzing in.

when you land your feet, house airs his deduction, nodding along as if he was finally making sense of you and wilson’s hypothesis.

“maybe he’s onto something.”

you turn to him with a tinge of a worrisome brow.

“who knows? maybe i’ve been sending subtle signals that even i’m not aware of. so what do you think?” he croons his head, all ominous, arriving to a conclusion. you can practically see the cogs turn in his brain. “you like me.”

"i never said that.”

house looks at you, rising in a smooth motion, as if to showcase his towering height, forcing you to look up at him. sitting down, he's not so large, but now, all you can think is that he's tall.

"you might not, but your body does," he croons, dangerous smirk playing about his face. his eyes probe your face, confidently with a proven theory. "pupils dilated..."

house grabs your wrist, eyes practically lighting up in delight at his impending diagnosis.

"…and pulse elevated. i understand that wilson thinks that love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry's incredibly simple," he says, softening his grip on you.

house doesn't let go, lingering in this proximity, leaning closer like some ghost and spirit you'll always look for. your breath hitches, but house doesn't afford you time to quite think, capturing your lips in a kiss that you reciprocate, clutching onto his arms for balance.

you feel one of his hand snake to the nook of your back, pushing you flush against him. house keeps his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw, large enough to cover that expanse of your face. it's a little dry and rough, but you don't mind, all too preoccupied with his lips.

house makes good work on you. his lips are even better than you'd imagine, but you finally register his words and what you were doing, so you pull away. the furrow of your brows returning, apprehensive about his next words.

you whisper, “i thought you didn't like me.”

"i was lying," he shrugs. "i needed to see if i was right, and i was."

"so you figured me out?"

"you like me,” house concludes, triumphant. “i was right.”

“i thought this was wilson’s hypothesis?” you cock a brow.

“hypothesis,” he nods before flicking your head. “but i can’t give him the credit for my diagnosis.”

you let out an airy laugh, relieved that he didn't make you spell it out for him. "you're an ass, you know?"

his eyes are proudly heralding trumpets. you could practically hear the victory going off them.

"it comes with the sitting arrangement."

#house md #gregory house #gregory house x reader #greg house #greg house x reader #house md x reader #house md fic #gregory house x you #gregory house fic #dr house #hugh laurie #netflix #fluff #slight angst #james wilson #dr wilson #james wilson fic #james wilson x you #james wilson x reader

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cordeliawhohung · 6 months

Text

anyway, say thanks to the brain worms in the discord server for this one

dark!gaz/soap x fem!reader

Kyle and Johnny catch sight of you in a bar, and decide that you're much better off with them.

cw: non-con, dark content, alcohol, roofies, kidnapping, the boys are not very nice

Bars weren’t your usual haunt, yet your date for that night managed to make you comfortable despite the crowded and stuffy building. Tucked in a booth in some out-of-the-way corner, the two of you nursed your drinks as you got to know one another, slowly testing the waters to see if it was worth seeing one another again. Though he had been a stranger at the beginning of the night, you found yourself sincerely enjoying his company. He was a bit of a nerd, whose eyes lit up when talking about the storyline to his favorite games, and you found it cute the way he had to keep adjusting his thick-lensed glasses while they slid down his nose.

It wasn’t until he got up to use the bathroom that your eyes started to wander. Not on purpose, of course, as you would never be rude enough to abandon a date for someone else while the two of you were actively out. No, your eyes only wandered because someone else approached you, and it would be a lie to say he wasn’t the most goddamn beautiful human you had ever laid eyes on. His complexion was impeccable with smooth skin save for a small scar on his cheek, and the slight stubble made his polite smile more alluring. What really got you were his eyes. They were an enchanting dark brown that glistened in the dull yellow lights that lit the area, and you found your throat growing tight at the sight of him.

“Evening,” he greeted. Fuck, even his voice was nice, and his tone was smoky and suave. All you could do was sit in your seat and stare up at him as he leaned a hand on the table, almost as if silently begging you to allow him in. “You look a little lonely. You haven’t been left high and dry, I hope?”

Chuckling, you shook your head as you adjusted your attire, a little self conscious about having a specimen such as that stranger look at you. “No, no my date’s just in the bathroom.”

Though there was a flicker of disappointment in his gaze, he did a good job at obscuring it for the most part. Instead, his smile widened, and he nodded his head in understanding.

“Ah, so you’re tellin’ me I’m too late, then,” he chuckled. “Everythin’ going good, then? He’s not a nutter?”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his concern, his sincere concern. Not only was he perhaps the most beautiful man you had ever seen, but he was a gentleman as well? Didn’t take rejection poorly at all and confirmed that you were safe? You wished your date had chosen some other pub to go to that night, because you were certain this man was attempting to put a spell on you.

“Everything’s all good, thank you,” you confirmed with a smile.

“Great. Well, if things start going south…” The man paused to look over his shoulder and gesture towards the bar. Among the other patrons, you quickly caught sight of the man he pointed out, as his mohawk stood out like a sore thumb. Then again, he was probably one of the largest — dare you say, beefiest? — people there, and it would have been impossible not to tell him apart in a crowd. “My friend and I will be here for a few hours still, in case you need us.”

Once again you gave him a polite smile as you thanked him for his offer, and he sauntered back over to his friend with a courteous farewell. It was perhaps the kindest interaction you had ever experienced with a stranger in a pub before, yet it left you flustered all the same, so much so that you hardly realized that your date had returned until he sat across from you in the booth once more. Praying he didn’t notice your state of mind, you quickly raised your drink to your lips where you downed a few big gulps with the silent hope that you would forget all about that handsome stranger lest you looked like a whore to your date.

Luckily the two of you picked up where you had left off, and for a while you had forgotten all about that man. You listened to your date talk about his studies in computer science, and an indie game he helped design, and you watched as everything began to tilt. Lights flashed in your face and when you tried to blink them away they wouldn’t leave, and you found your chest needing to heave in order to get a good breath in. Something felt wrong, yet you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of your date, so you tried to hide it by taking another gulp of your drink.

Nothing soothed your dizzy vision or your fuzzy mind, and it got so bad you couldn’t even understand what your date said anymore. All your energy focused on trying to keep yourself upright in that booth, but you wanted nothing more than to lay down. You were certain the cool wood of the table would feel intoxicating against your feverish skin, maybe you could do it, just for a moment…

“What’s going on here?”

That voice was one you didn’t recognize, and when you looked up to see who spoke, you could vaguely make out the fuzzy features of a large man with his hands leaned on the table. He was angry, with a sharp voice and a thick Scottish accent, but you didn’t know who he was. You felt like you should know, but you couldn’t place a name to his face.

“Did you drug her?” the man questioned further.

“No! I didn’t do anything!” your date attempted to defend.

“Bull-fucking-shit, look at her!”

Something grazed your arm, and usually you would jump at sudden sensations like that, but it felt so disconnected from your body that you didn’t even realize something had touched you until a voice prompted your attention.

“You alright, doll?”

It was that kind man from earlier, and his voice was just as calm and polite as it was when he spoke to you before. You felt a response flit across your tongue, but you couldn’t make any sense of the words you said. A fit of shouting erupted from somewhere in the bar, and you felt the table shake, but you couldn’t find the emotions within you to care.

Suddenly, things felt too heavy, as if the gravity of the earth increased tenfold. You realized you were standing, though you didn’t remember getting up from the booth, and the only reason why you hadn’t collapsed was because of the firm arm around your waist. Eventually cold air hit your face, and you felt your feet stumble along the pavement before you were gently placed into the back seat of someone’s car. You didn’t even bother trying to keep sitting upright, and instead laid yourself across the seats as you curled in on yourself.

“Don’t worry, doll,” you were assured, “Soap and I will take good care of you.”

A strange sort of darkness enveloped you after that, and it was the closest thing to death you had ever experienced. There were no dreams, or images that attempted to comfort you as your mind rotted away; there was nothing. Just an emptiness where you didn’t exist for a while.

When your mind slowly started to drift into consciousness again, the first thing you noticed was the sound of smacking. It was as if someone consumed a meal without worrying about slurping too much, and the noises were loud and obscene. Your vision flickered back to life, and you were met with an unfamiliar scene. The ceiling above your head was not the ceiling to your bedroom, nor did it look like any ceiling you’d find in a hospital. Your head rested against something too firm to be a pillow, yet too soft to be the floor, and you did your best to get a better glance at your surroundings.

You looked down at yourself only to realize you were completely naked. No underwear, no bra, not even your socks; every single article of clothing had been removed, and you were given nothing to cover yourself with. Two firm arms wrapped around your midsection from behind, and you realized that semi-soft surface you leaned against was a person who had you held in their embrace. All of that was bad enough, but you felt your stomach lurch and your still fuzzy mind scream when you saw what happened between your legs.

That mohawked man you had seen at the bar earlier that night laid sprawled out on the bed in front of you with his mouth greedily devouring your cunt. You watched in pure horror as his tongue lapped at you, dancing along your clit and down to your tense hole, yet the sensation didn’t feel pleasant. It all felt muted, like you weren’t really there. He grunted into your heat as his hands gripped your hips like he was afraid his meal would run off without him, and he continued to devour you like it was the only thing that brought him pleasure.

As if suddenly regaining control of your body, your hips bucked forward with a whine in some sort of odd attempt at escape, only to be held down by the man shamelessly eating you out. A dark chuckle reverberated in the body behind you, rattling your spine with the sensation, and you felt a pair of lips press against your bare shoulder. The man between your legs paused his assault on your cunt in order to look up at you with a wet-faced grin.

“Have a good nap, bonnie?” he teased.

Panic attempted to rise into your chest, but there was some sort of emptiness that prevented it from fully manifesting. This was wrong, really wrong, you knew because of the tight feeling in your core and your breath hitching in your throat. You couldn’t fully recall how you got there, stuck between two men, but you knew that the haziness of your mind must have had something to do with it.

“What…?” Once more your mouth tried to form words but they would leave your lips half finished. The hands wrapped around your center slowly wandered up to your tits where you felt yourself being squeezed at, which prompted you to further stutter. “I… don’t…”

“Remember what I said?” the man behind you spoke up. That beautiful, dastardly man. “Soap and I are taking care of you, so just relax, yeah?”

The man between your legs, Soap, pulled away from you and sat back on his haunches as he assessed you. His eyes were a pretty shade of blue, and had he not just violated your unconscious body, you might have considered him handsome. Instead, the sight of him made you close your eyes and twist your face away as if you couldn't stand the sight of him. You wanted to vanish, to turn into mist and drift away into the stale, sweaty air that threatened to suffocate you, and right when you thought you almost managed that feat, you were painfully brought back to reality when you felt two thick fingers force their way into your cunt.

The stretch burned, your body not yet fully prepared for it, yet you had already gotten so slick with Soap’s spit that it didn’t matter, he was able to do it with ease anyway. Your legs strived to flail and squirm, yet you hardly had the energy or ability to do so, and failed miserably. Soap’s fingers danced around inside of you accompanied by a symphony of lewd squelches and a throaty laugh.

“Nice and wet, she is,” Soap crooned. “What’dya say, Garrick? Wanna have a go at her?”

Whatever his response was, you were unable to make it out, but you did feel him wiggle out from behind you. Every muscle in your body spasmed as you were lowered onto the mattress, and your eyes flickered open just in time to watch Soap slip off of the bed and for the other man — Garrick? — take his place. Warm hands gripped the exposed flesh of your thighs, and you felt yourself get yanked closer to him, and the sudden movement nearly made you puke.

“Please- I-” you gasped, still incapable of expressing yourself.

“What a sweet girl,” Garrick cooed while one of his hands reached up to undo the button and zipper on his pants. “Hear that, MacTavish? Hear her begging?”

Dull pain blossomed at the base of your skull as you felt your head lift off the bed. Soap held you by your hair, insisting that you look down at yourself as Garrick’s cock sprung free from the confines of his jeans. It was impossible for your eyes to fully focus on anything, to make sense of it, but you were able to comprehend the sheer size of him, his length much too long to fit into you unprepared. You tried to turn away, to ignore it and pray it would all stop, but you couldn’t with Soap’s firm grip.

“‘Course she is,” he chuckled, lips brushing against your ear. “Sweet and naughty always go hand in hand.”

A small gasp escaped your lips as you felt the tip of Garrick’s cock press against your cunt, and you had no choice but to stare down at the vulgar scene between your legs. His hands slid along your hips until they were under your thighs, and he gently lifted your legs up, adjusting the angle of your hips.

“Please, I don’t… think I want this,” you said with a cry. They were the first coherent words you were able to speak, and they were met with a laugh.

“You don’t think so?” Soap teased. “A bit too late for that now, bonnie. GOt the man all worked up, and I don’t think he wants’ta stop.”

When Garrick sunk himself into you, your cunt nearly choked him from how tight and unprepared you were, yet his brute force was enough to overcome your body’s resistance. Your mouth fell open in a silent sob, and your back arched off the bed as if that movement alone would save you. Instead of beginning his thrusts, Garrick stayed still, completely buried inside of you as he let out a hiss.

“Christ, you’re so damn tight,” he cursed.

Soap’s fingers suddenly slipped out of your hair, and without his strength supporting your head, it crashed back onto the mattress. A throb reverberated throughout your body, and the blood gushed in your ears so loudly you almost didn’t notice the sound of him undoing his belt next to your face. While Soap fished his own cock from his pants, Garrick gently rocked his hips forwards as if to test the waters and grind his fat tip against the rubbery surface of your cervix.

“Open,” Soap urged.

Your brain didn’t comprehend his command, and so you continued to lay there as you attempted to hold back your groans. Deciding to assist you, Soap reached a hand for your jaw, turning your head towards him, and giving it a good squeeze until your mouth fell open.

“There we are,” he chuckled as he tapped your lower lip with his tip. “Now, no biting, else I’ll bite back.”

When Soap pushed his cock into your mouth, there was an emptiness that enveloped your mind. There was no more fuzz, no haze or confusion, just nothing, but it only lasted for a short moment before reality barreled back at you. Garrick thrust into you with what started as a lazy pace, but then quickly turned into something more demanding, more snapping. All the while, Soap’s cock pressed so far into your mouth and down your throat you coughed to keep yourself from choking. When you reached up to try and push him away, the man took it as a compliment instead, and rested his hand over yours where it laid against his hip.

Their groans were undignifying. You wanted to wail, wanted to thrash around and get them to stop using you for their pleasure, but whatever drugs that had been slipped into your drink rendered your body completely useless except for fulfilling their desires. So you laid there, stoic and limp with your eyes closed as you took it. If you could just get through it, it would be over eventually. It had to be.

A sharp pinch to your nipple had you nearly yelping, and you were certain you would have burst their eardrums with your sob had your mouth not been occupied. Garrick’s pace slowed only slightly as he adjusted your legs a little with a huff.

“Well don’t go breaking her,” he grumbled.

“Just tryna keep her awake,” Soap defended. “Besides…”

Once again his fingers came up to pinch your nipple, and it was impossible to hold back the tears welling in your eyes as you cried out once more. He grinned down at you as he used his thumb to wipe at the tears, almost as if he refused to acknowledge their existence.

“She sounds so perfect squealing, especially with my cock in her mouth.”

The pace at which Soap then abused your mouth was so brutal you completely lost the ability to breathe. Ignoring the tension in your throat, he pressed himself as far as he could go with so much force you were certain you would bruise. More tears continued to stream down your face as you held back the urge to puke, but eventually you were offered solace as he suddenly yanked himself out of your mouth.

You coughed and sputtered on the build up of spit in your throat, and you powerlessly laid there with a burning neck and throat. Judging by his guttural groaning and the heavy throbbing of his cock, Soap had edged himself pretty bad, and you tried not to grimace at the sight of his reddened tip. Your mouth wasn’t able to rest for long, though, as you quickly found a few fingers pressed against your tongue, just as brutal and unforgiving as everything else he did to you.

“Steamin’ jesus,” he groaned. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth where they dripped your spit along your bare chest. It left you feeling sticky and gross, and you whined as you felt those wet fingers begin to toy with your clit. “Good at everything, arent’cha bonnie?”

Panting like a bitch in heat, you felt a terrible pressure build up in your stomach. Between Garrick’s thrusts, which had only started to grow more ruthless, and Soap’s fingers rubbing annoyingly pleasurable circles against your abused cunt, you knew you were going to come undone. It was terribly unfortunate to know that you were going to give them that satisfaction, that your fucked out and drugged up brain would give into them so easily, and you found your face wrenching with a sob.

“Oh fuck,” Garrick huffed as his hips stuttered. “K-Keep that up. Bloody hell, she’s so fuckin’ close I can feel it.”

Soap didn’t let up at all, nor did he speed up either. It was like he knew how to push your buttons all too well, knew exactly what he needed to do in order to coax your orgasm out of you. You felt it build and build until it crashed so hard it stole your breath, searing you from the inside out. Garrick let out a wanton groan as your cunt fluttered around him, and he pounded into you more roughly than he had been until he suddenly held himself inside of you.

He leaned his head back as he came and gave a few more lazy thrusts into your cunt. Your mind reeled at the realization that he came inside of you, and your thoughts buzzed as you knew there was no protection involved, that these sick fucks might get you pregnant. When he pulled out of you, your hands instinctively reached down between your legs as if scooping his cum out of you would save you from whatever fate they had written for you.

“What’s wrong, not enough for you, doll?” Garrick chuckled as he slid off the bed.

Your legs limply fell onto the bed without his hands there to hold them up, and your eyes fluttered shut as you bit into your bottom lip. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you broken, and you certainly wouldn’t give into their jests, either. Yet, as the mattress sunk in once more, you came to the painful realization that things were not over.

A new pair of hands slipped underneath your knees, and your legs were pushed so close to your chest, you could nearly kiss them. Soap got a bit more intimate with you than Garrick had, and before his cock even brushed against your cum-soaked hole his lips were on yours, smothering out any protest. You could taste the pint he had at the bar earlier that night, along with the vague taste of your heat, and it only grew stronger when he slipped his tongue into your mouth, wet and nasty.

When he finally pushed into you, he ate up your gasp as you quickly realized he was much girthier than Garrick was. The stretch was unfamiliar, and burned, yet there was virtually no friction; nothing to hold him back from bottoming out. He hummed into your mouth before pulling away and allowing you to take a proper breath, but even then you could still feel his grin against your lips.

“I know you’re tired, so I’ll make it quick, bonnie. Promise,” he claimed.

He said those words as if you should have thanked him for being so considerate, and yet it ignited a sort of anger inside of you that you were unable to feel before. The drugs they had given you must have started to wear off, because every emotion and sensation suddenly increased tenfold as he began to snap his hips against yours. Every ache burned like you were on fire, which only raged more as you reached up and pressed your hands against his chest as if you actually had a chance of pushing that broad monster off of you.

“Now, now,” Garrick tsked, “be nice.”

Kneeling next to the bed, the man grabbed your wrists and pulled them above your head, and you hated just how vulnerable it left you. As if you hadn’t been vulnerable that entire night. Those sick freaks certainly had planned it all out. Slipping a roofie into your drink during your conversation while your date was away, blaming it on your date, and taking you back to their place to have their way with you. You didn’t even want to think about how many other girls they had in that bed before you.

“No, just- just stop,” you squirmed.

“Soon, love,” Garrick cooed. “Soap’s getting close, I can tell. You know, he’s always been one for praise. I’m sure he’ll show you a little mercy if you say thank you.”

As Soap’s face buried into your neck, you could feel his breath hit your skin, and you couldn’t help but grimace at the feeling. What the hell was he trying to recommend you do? Thank him?

“No,” you replied, your tone biting.

It wasn’t long after you defied him that a squeaky gasp left you as Garrick grabbed a hold of your jaw. His grip was not kind, nor was it relenting, and he turned your head to face him with a slight jerk.

“I’m not asking, doll. You’re gonna say thank you. Thank you Johnny. Don’t make me tell you again,” he said with a tone you had yet to hear from him. Between the biting grip on your face and his threat, you couldn’t help but sob and give in, lest they do something worse.

“T-Thank you, Johnny,” you mumbled.

“Can’t hear you,” Garrick warned.

“Thank you, Johnny!” you cried.

Your second attempt was what finally did the man in. Though his thrusts continued at their same, brutish pace, he came long and loud with pathetic grunts in your ear. Garrick finally relinquished your face and hands, and you automatically held onto the man filling you with his cum as if you’d fall through the bed without him. Once Soap — or were you really supposed to call him Johnny? — gave you the last of his spend, he planted a quick kiss against your cheek before rolling off of you, pulling himself out of you in the process.

“Christ, Kyle. Wasn’t sure you knew how to pick ‘em but goddamn… should keep her around, aye?” Johnny chuckled as he fastened his pants.

Aching, sore, and exhausted, you rolled onto your side as you watched the two men straighten out their clothes. A quick glance at the floor around you revealed yours weren’t to be found, and you couldn’t remember just when they had ripped them off of you. A terrible pounding ravaged your head, and all you wanted to do was sleep.

“I wanna go home,” you spoke up, voice small.

Kyle, grinned as he ran a hand over your hair. “This is home, doll. Rest up, yeah? Gotta save up your energy for tomorrow.”

His words had wiped all sense from your mind, and you weren’t able to come up with a response as he rose from the floor and turned his back towards you. Tomorrow? No, no they couldn’t keep you here, locked up like some animal, some fucking toy to play with whenever they wanted. And yet still, all you could do was lay there as you watched them saunter out of the room, completely fulfilled as you laid empty and broken in that bed.

The door closed and locked behind them with a simple click, and that’s when you finally allowed your tears to flow freely. Keeping quiet, you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the pathetic sounds as best as you could, refusing to let them hear just the effect they had on you. That night, you had nothing to lull you to sleep except for the sounds of whatever video game they had started up in the living room, and their joyous laughter as they continued on with their lives with no concern for their new toy.

#kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle garrick smut #gaz smut #soap smut #john mactavish smut #cod smut #cw: noncon #dark fic #f!reader

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pupyuj · 11 months

Note

Pervy G!P babysitter Yujin who can't stop imagining fucking reader who is married but her husband is always away so she sees that as her chance of "helping you out" with your problems. Biggest problem Yujin being extremely hot.

Also don't worry, your works always slay and I can't wait to read more of your work (Especially Yujin because I need her cock in me badly)

an older ask! 😳 n thanks a lot for ur kind words then anon <;33

yujin's definitely the type to take that job bcs she wants to fuck a hot milf... and that milf being you! she does end up enjoying spending time with a kid but at the end of the day... she always comes into your unnecessarily huge mansion with a mission 😈 yujin's super polite and well-mannered, plays with your kids very well and even gets him some gifts sometimes! you grew fond of her after she went above and beyond for your kid and ever since then, you've seen her as more of a confidant than an... well, an employee 😭😭

it was definitely strange to call someone so young your friend, but that was what became of your relationship! especially after your partner got so busy that you started feeling lonely around the house 😞 yujin always made sure to keep you from getting bored though! from cooking meals for the kid with you, helping you with cleaning, playing with your kid with you.. yujin was good company! but ofc... her ulterior motives got the best of her one day! 🫣

making sure that the kid wasn't around when she makes a move... sees you looking all stressed from work without your partner to comfort you :((( yujinnie offering her help by putting her hands on your shoulders and giving you a well-earned massage! "your partner... they're a very hard-worker but i can't help but think that they're being a little unfair to you, (y/n)-ssi." yujin lowering herself so she's right up your ear, making the slightest moves to be softly pecking your head,, and you're so tired that you can't rlly think correctly... leaning in to her and making the mistake of moaning when she suddenly gropes your tits??? now yujin definitely doesn't have to think of stopping herself.

"y-yujin... wait, i'm... i can't be doing thi—"

"fuck no. stay here." she pulls your back against her, attacking your neck 😳 her hands were already inside your blouse, groping and touching everywhere she could :((( humping your ass while she pinches your nipple, forcing her tongue inside your mouth, and rubbing your clit all at once?? it was all too much for you and soon enough you've completely thrown away all your self-control,, letting yujin touch you as she pleases, reaching down her pants and squeezing her dick... and you're even the one who unbuckled her belt and unzipped her pants! you were so desperate to be filled that you didn't care that you were cheating on your spouse—all you wanted was yujin, and for yujin to fuck you good 😵‍💫

memkehjksd yujin pumping in and out of your cunt while you're sat on top of your desk,, your arms around her neck, holding on for dear life while she pounds your pussy like she's never fucked anyone before,, her grunts in your ear?? bites your shoulder, your neck... 🤤🤤 yujinnie making sure you're taking the full length of her thick cock with every thrust :(( reaching even some spots your partner did not know about.. fuck, yujin was way too good at this...

"lemme breed you, mommy... fill this fucking pussy full of my cum... can i? can i, please??" her hips stuttering the closer she gets to her climax :((( yujinnie gets super whiny too,, whimpering and muttering "mommy" against your skin,, one clench around her dick pushing her over the edge and making her spill her seed inside you 😵‍💫😵‍💫 she really does fill you up so fucking full too! "how was that...? i'm good, right, mommy?" yujinnie was asking with a shit-eating grin, knowing damn well she's just given you a good fuck after forever 🥴

you were just recovering from all of that when yujin had this genius idea to sit on your bed, wrap your panties around her cock, and jack off right in front of you,, "f-fuck..! mhm!" her coming in your panties,, and telling you to wear them bcs it inflates her fucking ego so much... and to both of your luck, your partner arrives home later that night and you had to stand and be all sweet in front of them while wearing some cum-soaked panties... yujinnie watching from the side with a smirk, winking at you when you happened to make eye contact with her while your spouse kissed you,,,

and ofc, each and every single one of her next visits became merely an excuse for the two of you to fuck like rabid animals,, but what can you say??? being bred full of yujin's cum everyday have become too much of a good thing to give up 😵‍💫

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #ive x fem reader #ahn yujin smut #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin x fem reader #ahn yujin imagines #yujin smut #yujin imagines #yujin x fem reader #yujin x reader #girl group smut #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group x fem reader #g!p idol #g!p ive #g!p yujin

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psychelis-new · 7 months

Text

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

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pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

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pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

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pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #love #love message #valentines day #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

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joelscruff · 1 year

Note

ummm hi this is so random i just needed to tell someone about this cause no one i know likes pedro

so i was watching s1 narcos and javi was wearing this fkn white half sleeved shirt and they knew what they were fucking doing and i’m dying he’s so fkn hot what do i do!!, if i was interning for him and he walked in the room wearing that oh my fkn god i would be dead sorry for this rant

soaked (javier peña x f!reader) 18+

so as usual what was meant to be a little drabble became a full-fledged fic. what is wrong with me????? this outfit is truly insane though and i couldn't stop thinking about it getting wet 👀 i hope you enjoy xo (and thank you anon for the inspo and for telling me what episode this lovely shirt was in!) summary: it's hard being an intern for a man who won't even look at you, but maybe there's something else to it that you don't see. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: smut, blowjobs, deepthroating, protected p in v sex, praise kink, dirty talk, size kink (javi has a big dick), biting, probably bad spanish (blame google) word count: 6k (this was supposed to be a drabble!!!!!!! wtf!!!!!!!!) ao3

You're pretty sure you're going to quit your job.

You've been an intern at the DEA for about a month now, in charge of extremely mundane things like pouring coffee and organizing paperwork. No one really talks to you other than Steve Murphy, one of the agents you're assigned to, and even then he's too busy to really give you much attention. It's lonely and boring, and part of you thinks you might have quit already, if it wasn't for...

"Morning, asshole," Javier Peña enters the office with long strides, tossing a stack of papers toward your (very tiny) desk. You can't help but stare at him, swallowing nervously as you assess the plain white shirt he's wearing, loosely tucked into his tight jeans and accentuating his strong, tan arms. How does he always look so good? His hair is messy, brown curls tangled and sticking up in places like he's just rolled out of bed, and he probably has. The faint scent of whisky that follows him tells you all you need to know about how he spent his evening.

You're worried for only half a second that he's talking to you, but you realize his gaze is directed toward Steve, who simply shrugs.

"You didn't have to come," he replies with a laugh, "You coulda said no."

"To your fucking wife? Please." Javier sits down in his chair with force, leaning back to immediately put his long legs up on his desk and reach for a cigarette from his pocket, "She was excited about it, you dick."

Steve just laughs again, turning back to his work, "You did the right thing, man. I don't know what else to say."

You wish you understood the story, knew what they were playfully ribbing each other about, but for the past month you've been on the outside of their relationship. Steve gives you reassuring smiles and some small talk every now and then but it's not enough to feel like you actually belong there, not to mention that Javier has only spoken to you once. Even now, as you rise from your chair to pour some fresh coffee into his mug, he doesn't even look at you.

"You owe me," he says to Steve, lighting up his cig, "Pendejo."

As you pour his coffee you can't help but notice the way the collar of his shirt rides low enough for you to see his collarbones, see the light dusting of hair smattered across his dark skin. There's a few droplets of sweat here and there, and you resist the urge to lean forward and press your tongue to each one.

"I'll have some more too, sweetheart," Steve says behind you, and your thoughts scatter as you pull back from Javier's mug to go re-fill Steve's. You're aware of the way Steve's eyes trail to your breasts, hidden only by a thin layer of blue fabric; it makes you self conscious and also a bit confused. Steve has never looked at you that way before, "That's a nice blouse," he says to you with a smile, eyes going back up to your face, "My wife has one similar to that."

"Thank you," you say quietly, finishing filling up his mug and wanting to go back over to your desk as soon as possible; you don't like the idea of a married man ogling you.

"Isn't this a nice blouse, Javi?" Steve continues, and you freeze.

What is Steve doing? Is he trying to get you insulted? You turn slightly to look at Javier, coffee pot trembling slightly in your hand when you see that he's got an irritated expression painting his face, mouth downturned in a stern frown.

"Thin ice, Steve," Javier replies and takes another drag from his cigarette, his eyes set firmly on Steve's face, not even bothering to even look at the blouse in question.

"What? It's nice," Steve seems to be feigning innocence, yet again another inside joke you're not apart of. Except this time it's at your expense and you're not sure how that makes you feel. Suddenly Steve reaches up and takes a ruffle of your blouse near your arm between his fingers, "Really soft, too."

"Steve," Javier repeats, eyes dark, "Thin. Ice."

You look from Javier to Steve and back to Javier, absolutely bewildered. It's like things are being said but you can't hear them, have no idea what kind of secret language they're speaking. You pull away from Steve a bit, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'm gonna go put this back," you say quietly, referring to the coffee pot.

"Of course, sweetheart, I won't keep you," Steve gives you a wink and you know something is off. From what you've gathered so far from your time here, Steve loves his wife, has a picture of her on his desk right in front of him that you always catch him looking at. You've only been here a month but you swear he's mentioned her every single day, if not to you then to Javier, if not to Javier then to another intern or agent. So why is he suddenly being flirtatious with you?

You leave the room and return the coffee pot, staring at the aged tiles on the wall in front of you and feeling a lump form in your throat. You really do hate it here, you don't know why you've stayed as long as you have.

Yes you do, you idiot.

It's raining outside by the time your work day ends and you feel yourself deflate as you walk out the front doors of the DEA; you'd been hoping for the hot weather to continue so you could go for a run and distract yourself from this weird and uncomfortable day, decide whether or not you're going to just quit already. It's like the heavy rainfall is mocking you.

You feel much too depressed to walk home so you go back inside the building and make your way back to the office to call a taxi. Steve passes you in the hallway and slows down, puts his hand up to stop you.

"Hey, I'm sorry for this morning," he says, eyes kind and gentle, "That was inappropriate, I shouldn't have touched your blouse."

You're not sure what to say, giving him a small shrug, "It's, uh, okay. I was just..." you shake your head, "Yeah, never mind, it's okay."

"You're wondering why I did it." he states, frowning, and you almost laugh at his immediate assessment of the situation; deflecting a DEA agent? Not the smartest idea.

"Well, yeah," you shrug, "It was kinda weird. You're usually, um... very respectful so-"

He winces, "I know, I'm sorry. It was just me trying to get on Peña's nerves," he shuffles awkwardly in front of you, shifting the weight from his left leg to his right and back again, "He'd kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but I owe him."

You look at him in total confusion, shaking your head, "I don't understand."

He chuckles, shaking his head, "I know, I'm just trying to figure out how to word it," he bites his lip and then seems to resign himself to something, "Javier... he likes you."

You stare.

"My wife and I, we kind of wrangled him into having dinner with us last night. They were talking, she was askin' him about women, if he'd been on any dates, typical questions," he laughs at the memory, "He said no and she asked if he had his eye on anyone. He said no again, but I know this guy like the back of my hand, I can read him like a book. I knew that second no was a goddamn lie."

Your heart is pounding in your chest but your thoughts are muddled, unable to draw a clear conclusion from what Steve is telling you. You continue to just stand there wordlessly, listening.

"A few drinks later - well, more than a few - I asked him who he had his eye on. You wouldn't believe how easy it was to get it out of him, he just smiled, took a drag of his cig..." Steve acts this out, bringing his cigarette-less fingers to his lips and pretending to take a puff, eyes heavy-lidded and bleary, "And said your name."

You can't believe what you're hearing, there's no way it's true, no way he's telling you about something that actually happened. Your heart continues to pound relentlessly, staring at Steve like he's speaking another language, a million wordless questions flying back and forth in your mind at top speed.

"She's the most beautiful creature I ever saw," he quotes, voice slurred and gravelly, "She's sunshine incarnate."

"But he doesn't even look at me!" you blurt out, eyes wide.

Steve drops his hand and laughs again, shaking his head, "Sweetheart, he looks at you all the time. You're just looking away when he does it."

This revelation hits you hard, makes your breath catch in your throat. Is this actually true? Or is this some sick inside joke they're playing to get you to finally put in your notice, one of their private little games that you're not a part of. On principle it's the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard; the man has spoken to you once, only once, and it was on your first day. He'd introduced himself, shook your hand, and that was that.

"What do you mean you're doing this because you owe him?" you ask, shaking the thoughts away, "Isn't this just humiliating him?"

Steve smiles again, slightly smug, "I see the way you look at him too, you know. I'm not blind," he looks at his watch then and makes a face, "Listen, I gotta go, but if you're heading back to the office, he's still there."

"But, Steve, I-"

"Trust me," he gives you one of his reassuring smiles, "He needs - scratch that - wants someone like you, someone... stable."

You don't think being on the verge of quitting a paid internship would be considered stable, but you understand what he means. You may have only been here a short time but Javier's reputation is widely known around the office, something you've found yourself sympathizing with instead of villainizing him like others do. You know his history with women is pretty bleak relationship wise.

Steve begins to walk away from you, leaving you standing there speechless, "You better hurry before he leaves," he calls. He picks up his pace but you're still able to hear him as he mutters, "and that's my good deed done," then saunters down the hall and disappears around the corner.

The office you share with Javier and Steve is the only one still lit on your floor, meaning everyone else has already gone home. You know that Javier likes to stay late sometimes, work on the case alone and look at things from different angles in solitude. You feel nervous as you approach the door, not wanting to bother him. But regardless of whether what Steve said is true, you still need to call a taxi.

You turn the knob and walk inside, trying to be as quiet and slow as possible. Your efforts are pointless though, as Javier looks up from his work and sees you immediately, his eyebrows going up in surprise.

"It's raining," you say softly, awkwardly, "I need to call a cab."

"Right," he nods to you and then returns to his work without an afterthought, writing something down on a piece of paper.

You stand there for a few moments just looking at him, watching his face, trying to find any indication of affection behind those focused eyes, his serious brow. He looks the same as always, lost in thought, scribbling away, handsome as he does it. The white shirt certainly isn't helping; he's unbuttoned it more now, his chest exposed and sunglasses hanging from a button near his pocket. He's so effortlessly gorgeous, it makes you ache.

He must sense you still standing there, not making any move to walk to your desk and pick up the phone. He looks up at you again, brow furrowed, "Do you need something?"

You shake your head quickly, cheeks burning, "N-no, sorry," you shuffle over to your desk and sit down in your chair, doing everything you can to avoid looking over at him again. You think about what Steve said, how Javier is always looking at you but only when you're not aware. You wonder if he's doing it right now.

You reach for the phone, unable to stop your hands from shaking slightly. You're almost sure you feel his gaze on you now, boring into you and watching every move you make, eyes deep and brown and calculating, always calculating. Assessing. What does he make of you? If what Steve said is true, what does he see when he looks at you?

Sunshine incarnate.

You can't help but smile at the words, dialing the number for the taxi slowly as your brain repeats them over and over. Had he really said that about you? And meant it? Your thoughts are so jumbled that you accidentally press the wrong button and have to start over, hanging up the phone quickly before picking it up again.

Just as you go to press the first number, a hand comes down and stops you, brushing against your fingers in a tender and gentle way. You freeze, staring at the hand, knowing it's his, knowing that if he wasn't looking at you before, he certainly is now.

"Why don't I just give you a ride, cariño?" he asks quietly, voice slightly rough around the edges, "I'm heading home now anyway."

You will yourself to look up, eyes capturing his immediately and getting lost in their depths, big and brown and soft and searching. Your lips part but no words come out. You force yourself to give him a nod, repressing the urge to jump up and kiss his mouth, envelop him, hold him close and look even deeper into those soulful eyes.

You stand shakily and walk to the door, feeling his eyes on your back as he follows behind you. The walk down to the main doors of the building is completely silent, save for the clicking of your heels against the linoleum and his heavy masculine breaths at your side. It's still raining once you get outside, and you can't help but make a face.

"Not a fan of the rain?" he asks you a bit loudly over the pelting of water against the concrete, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's not my favorite," you admit, wincing, "Where are you parked?"

"You stay here where it's dry, I'll pull it up front."

You watch him dart out from under the eaves of the building, rain immediately soaking his white shirt without apology. You watch with wide eyes as his back becomes visible from the downpour, skin a pinkish brown beneath the suddenly translucent material. You catch sight of two dimples near his lower back before he disappears from eyesight.

You swallow, trying to pretend you don't feel yourself begin to throb within the confines of your underwear, a wetness pooling between your legs that has nothing to do with the rain.

Only a few moments later he's pulling up front, waving at you from behind the car window. You dash forward and feel the rain soak your hair, your skin, your blouse. There was nothing about rain in the forecast this morning so you hadn't thought to bring a jacket with you; you're now regretting that decision greatly.

The passenger side door is already unlocked and you slip inside gratefully, slamming it behind you and exhaling loudly. The rain continues to pelt the windows, the roof, a steady and repetitive sound as you look down at yourself to assess the damage. At least you chose a blue blouse and not a white one, although you can faintly see the shape of your nipples poking through the fabric. A bit self conscious, you cross your arms and huddle forward in the seat.

"Should heat up soon," Javier says beside you, quiet like he'd been in the office, "Seatbelt."

You glance over at him for only a second but regret it instantly, immediately noticing the way the rain has completely soaked his white shirt, exposing the taut and firm muscle beneath, his wide pecs, dark nipples, his flat stomach and belly button, the trail of hair that leads down to...

You grip the seatbelt in your hands and turn your attention to clicking it into place, feeling yourself throb even more. God, he's so fucking hot. You can't blame all the women he's slept with for wanting to get in his pants, he's a fucking Adonis. You take a few deep breaths as he pulls away from the building, focusing on the small bursts of heat that are beginning to radiate from the vents in front of you. You rub your hands together, momentarily forgetting that he could probably see your breasts through your blouse if he looked over.

But that's just it...you never know when he's looking at you. And part of you wonders what would be so bad about him seeing you like this.

You drive together in silence for a few moments, an undeniable tension building and building the longer you both sit there without speaking. Every so often you can't help but let your eyes trail back over to his body, eyeing the way his wet shirt clings to his skin, beginning to slowly dry in small patches from the car heater. You can vaguely make out the shape of a scar on his abdomen and you find yourself wanting to reach out and trace your finger along the length of it, ask him how he got it, kiss it better.

"I feel you watching me, querida," he murmurs, eyes on the road.

Your eyes widen and you sit back in your seat stiffly, "S-sorry."

In your peripheral vision you see him smile, thumbing the steering wheel, "You're always watching me, aren't you?"

You don't know what to say, swallowing tightly around the lump you feel building in your throat. Is he about to call you out? Tell you to stop?

"That's okay, I'm always watching you too," he says it quietly like it's a secret, taking a heavy breath as he continues, "But you know that now, don't you? Steve's a little shit."

You can't help but laugh, which makes him grin wider. He looks over at you and you meet his gaze, feeling shy when his eyes drop to your chest and back up again.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he murmurs, eyes back on the road, "I'll be real gentle, I promise."

You stare at him, slightly confused. It's only a moment later that it dawns on you: you never told him your address.

"Where are we going?" you ask quietly, voice shaking slightly in anticipation.

He gives you another side glance, smiling kindly at you, "I think you already know, cariño."

No more than twenty minutes later he has you laid out on his bed completely bare, his mouth pressed firmly against your wet core as you writhe and moan under his touch. His palms are pressed flush against your stomach, holding you to the mattress, never releasing you even when you start shaking uncontrollably from your orgasm. He just keeps going, sucking on your clit and fingering your throbbing hole, nose buried in the patch of hair on your mound.

"Javi, Javi, Javi," you repeat over and over again, thrashing in his sheets, fisting the duvet. He'd told you as soon as he had you in his bed that he didn't want you calling him Javier anymore, and you'd had absolutely no problem with amending your vocabulary.

He hums, giving your clit one last hard suck and making you almost scream with overstimulation, body heaving up off the mattress as he finally pulls away from your core and looks up at you with those big brown eyes.

"That's it, querida, feels so good, doesn't it?" he breathes, crawling back up and pressing kisses against your skin as you come down from the pleasure, heart pounding in your chest, "Your little pussy needed me so bad, didn't she?"

"Yes," you whimper, voice weak, unable to say anything else as he continues to kiss along your breasts, your neck, your cheeks. His mustache is soft and welcoming against your skin, tickling every inch of it in the best way possible as he worships you.

You can't believe you're even here, lying in his bed, lights dim as the rain continues to pelt the windows and drench the city while Javier drenches you. He's still wearing the white shirt, still damp and tucked into his jeans. You reach forward and pull at his belt, fingers trembling.

"Oh, cariño," he coos, kissing the corner of your mouth hungrily, "Want my cock now, do you? Thought that might have been too much for you."

You shake your head quickly, feeling tears sting in your eyes at the thought of him not giving you what you want, "Please," you whisper, voice breaking, "Please, Javi. I need it so bad."

"You do," he agrees, hands trailing upward to squeeze your breasts, thumbing your hard nipples, "You need to get fucked, knew it from the moment I met you. Knew it had to be me to do it."

"Why didn't you say anything?" you ask, voice breathless as he begins to undo his belt, "Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Because you're so pretty, hermosa, so pure," he tosses his belt to the ground and reaches for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head. Your eyes fall to his bare chest, his stomach, so much clearer now than they'd been through the wet fabric. He's absolutely perfect, and you feel yourself salivate as you reach up to palm the soft skin of his belly, feeling the hair under your fingertips, tracing the scar you'd seen earlier. He grabs your hand gently, squeezes it, "I knew if I talked to you, you'd end up right here. In my bed."

"And that would be a bad thing?" you whisper, eyes searching his, "This is bad?"

He shakes his head quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, "No, querida, this isn't bad. This is what you need, I know that now," he unzips himself and your jaw goes slack when you see that he isn't wearing any underwear, his cock completely bare and on display beneath the denim. He pulls himself out, showing you how long and thick he is, cut and curved, leaking from the tip. Some of it drips onto your tummy and you both watch it dribble down your skin, dipping into your belly button, "You need it," he whispers, "Knew it when you started looking at me like that."

"Like what?" you breathe, still staring at his large cock, wondering how it'll possibly fit inside you without splitting you in half.

"Like the way you're looking at my cock right now," he says softly, shuffling forward a bit on the bed, "Now, sit up, okay? Give it a kiss."

You don't need telling twice, scrambling amongst the sheets and crouching forward to envelop the head of his cock inside your mouth, warm and sticky on your tongue. You close your eyes, feeling them almost roll back in your head as you suck gently and swallow down his precome, tickling the back of your throat.

"Gonna see how much you can take, okay?" he says quietly above you, and you feel his hands in your hair, stroking your scalp reassuringly, "You can stop if it's too much."

You slowly move forward to take a few more inches, eyes still closed, only opening again when you feel his hands grip your hair tighter. You look up then, eyes lidded and heavy, and he's looking down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Such a pretty mouth," he murmurs, thumbing the base of your neck, "Just made to have my cock in there, huh?"

You nod slowly, breathing through your nose and pushing yourself further, wanting to take as much of him as you possibly can. You get about three quarters down and feel the tip prod the back of your throat. You still, inhaling deeply and feeling tears well in your eyes, silently begging yourself not to gag.

"Just a little more, querida," he whispers, stroking your hair, "You can do it, I know you can."

With his soothing encouragement you slowly take the rest of him, not stopping until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. You inhale again and your senses are overwhelmed by his masculine, sweaty, musky scent. It's heaven. You open your eyes and look up at him, tears welling over and spilling down your cheeks.

"Oh, baby," he says, biting back a moan, "That's so good, knew you could do it," he feels you trembling on his cock, throat closing around the head, and he carefully slides you off.

You start coughing immediately, drool running down your chin in long ropes. You'd feel embarrassed but he's smiling at you, leaning down to press kisses to your forehead.

"You did so good," he praises, wiping your chin with his thumb and kissing your lips tenderly, tasting himself on your tongue, "Took all of it so well, querida."

"I can do it again," you say quickly through another cough, voice rough, "Just gimme a second."

He smiles wider and shakes his head, "I know you can, but you don't need to, not tonight. Just wanted to see if you could take the whole thing in that pretty mouth," he thumbs your lips and you immediately capture it between them, sucking his thumb feverishly. He groans slightly, watching it disappear, "and now that I know you can... we need to see how well it fits inside that perfect little pussy, hm? Think it'll fit?"

You nod immediately, releasing his thumb with a pop, "I'll make it fit."

He groans again, getting off the bed and pulling his jeans down his legs, "That's what I like to hear, baby." He pulls open his bedside table and grabs a condom, tossing it over to you, "Now put that on my dick, cariño, gotta be safe."

You shuffle to the edge of the bed, ripping the condom open with your teeth and sliding it down his length. You feel his eyes on you now; you'd never been able to feel it before, had no idea he'd even been looking at you, and now it's like his gaze is burning your skin. You lean forward and press one more kiss to the head of his cock, smirking when it twitches.

"Come here, hermosa," he mutters, taking your hand and carefully pulling you off the bed. You both stand there naked in front of each other as he leans down to kiss you tenderly, hand trailing up to press flush against your back. He's so beyond everything you could have ever hoped for; you still can't believe this is actually happening, "Stay there for a second," he whispers.

You watch as he gets on the bed and sits at the top, back leaning against the headboard. His cock stands stiff and inviting beneath him as he splays his legs out and opens his arms.

"Sit on my cock, querida," he breathes, and without any hesitation you climb into his lap, legs shaking as you grip his shoulders and hover above him, "Nice and slow," he whispers, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, "That's it."

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and you keen at the sensation, still shaking slightly as you slowly ease yourself down on him. You're so wet, his length slipping inside easily at first, but once you get about halfway down your hips stutter and you whimper.

"You got it, baby," he breathes, thumbs splayed across your belly, "Not much more," he pushes inside a bit further and you cry out in ecstasy, burying your face in his shoulder. His hands move to your back, holding you tightly against him as he continues to fill you, not stopping until he bottoms out, "There," he murmurs, rubbing circles into the skin of your back, "That's all of it, cariño. Did so good, taking it so well for me."

You sit like that for a few moments, him whispering praises in your ear and rubbing your skin soothingly. He's so thick inside you, you've never felt so full. After a few more moments he carefully grips your hips and slowly begins to move you on his cock, up and down, watching your expression and reveling in the whines emitting from your throat.

"That's it," he says, brow furrowed as he keeps his eyes on your face, "That's what a real cock feels like, querida, and it's the only one you're gonna get from now on." Your face scrunches up in pleasure and you find yourself hiding in his shoulder again, wrapping your arms around him and starting to move your hips to match his pace.

"Javi," you whimper, feeling the head of his cock pushing against the deepest part of you every time you brace down, "So big inside me, Javi."

"I know, cariño," he murmurs, soothing you again with a gentle rub to your back, "Filling you up so good, huh?"

You hum and let yourself go, nose pressed into the dip of his collarbone as you still on his cock and let him go back to working you up and down, murmuring in your ear about how good you feel, what a perfect girl you are, how you'll never fuck anyone else but him for the rest of your life. And you want to believe it's true.

"Work won't be the same anymore," you say against his skin, voice muffled.

"Christ, baby, you're thinking about work?" he taps on your neck and you pull back to look at him, shivering as he continues to fuck you relentlessly as he speaks to you, "Don't think about work right now, querida, not when I've got my cock buried inside you."

"I want you to start fucking me at work," you say suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure as he hits the deepest part of you again, "In secret, please."

He stills for a second, surprise appearing on his face before he smiles, starts fucking you again with even more fervor, grunting with very thrust.

"Of course I will, baby," he says, pressing his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter and fucking you fast and hard, so much so that you feel yourself writhe off the bed again, fingers clasping around nothing as you moan loudly, "I told you, ever since I met you I knew you needed this, needed my cock," he kisses you then, wet and hot, and you feel the tension in your belly start to build, "Gonna give it to you every chance I get from now on, I promise."

You whimper at his words, fucking yourself down on him as hard as you can and letting out cries of pure bliss as he begins to hit your favorite spot over and over, so impossibly deep inside you that you think maybe he will split you open. He rises off the bed with you a bit, holding you tight to him as he wildly bucks into you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Gonna come, hermosa," he whispers in your ear, breath hot and sticky against your skin, "Give me one more, get that pussy all wet for me," you let out an inhuman sound and feel yourself involuntarily bite into his shoulder, making him groan.

"I'm sorry," you moan, pulling back and seeing the crescent shaped mark in his flesh.

"For what?" he groans, and you feel his thumb start to prod your clit, rubbing it furiously, "Do it again, baby, mark me up, make me yours," you feel your orgasm overtake you at the words, fingernails digging into his back as you writhe and cry in his arms. Without hesitation you bite down on him again, not hard enough to break the skin but enough that there will most certainly be a mark there tomorrow.

He groans at the sensation, pulling you impossibly closer and stilling inside you as he pumps the condom full of his spend, twitching inside you at every pulse. He doesn't pull out right away, just lays still within you while you pant against his shoulder, eyeing the purple mark beginning to bloom on his skin.

"I bit you," you say, eyes wide.

He shifts slightly beneath you, cock still filling you up as he chuckles, "Yes, you did."

"I'm sor-"

He puts a hand up, shaking his head, "Don't apologize, cariño, I like it."

You nod slowly and carefully pull yourself off his cock, already missing the full sensation of having him deep inside you. You lay back on the bed beside him, eyes closed as he disposes of the condom and then settles himself tightly against your side, spooning you and pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck.

"Did you mean what you said?" you ask quietly, eyes still closed as you feel yourself begin to drift off in his embrace, "Will you really fuck me at work?"

He laughs, gorgeous and perfect in your ear, "Yes, mi sol, I meant it."

Javi takes you home early the next morning so you can change your clothes, not wanting Steve to know about what happened last night, as much as it would probably tickle him to know he had a hand in it. He waits for you outside, listening to the radio in his car and squinting against the bright sun, fingers tapping against the base of the window absentmindedly. After a few moments you come back out, wearing a yellow blouse this time in honor of your new nickname. He smiles radiantly at you and you know you made a good choice.

You both manage to keep Steve completely in the dark for the first part of the day; Javi goes back to ignoring you the way he usually does, which you have to admit makes you feel a little bad. But it's all water under the bridge when he follows you to the women's bathroom around noon and locks you inside one of the stalls with him. A few seconds later his cock is hitting the back of your throat as he proves to you that he wasn't lying.

"What's that?" Steve says in the late afternoon, only about an hour until you can go home. You look up from your desk but he isn't talking to you, his gaze fixed on Javi.

"What?" Javi replies, brow furrowing as he looks down at himself, "Got a bug on me or something?"

"No, you have a bite mark on your shoulder," Steve says matter-of-factly, and you feel your cheeks go hot, eyes widening as you stare at Javier and watch him figure out what to say.

He just shrugs coolly, "Yeah, slept with this wild bonita last night, she wanted to mark me," he looks back down at his work, "Your wife ever do shit like that, Murphy?"

Steve sighs deeply, leaning back in his chair, "No, she doesn't."

"Thought so," Javi smirks, still not looking up from his paperwork, and you watch as Steve twists his mouth into a scowl, shaking his head.

A few seconds later Steve's looking over at you, giving you a small look of what you can only describe as sympathy, "Sorry," he mouths, shrugging dejectedly, "My bad."

You give him a smile in return, shaking your head, unable to help the rush you feel at not getting caught.

"It's okay," you mouth back, "I'll get over it."

You know Javi is watching you this time.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip (entirely optional of course but much appreciated).

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javier peña smut #*

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inchidentally · 10 months

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some things I rly liked finding out about from this Oscar interview

- even as young as he is he doesn’t talk about Lily in terms of her performing some kind of role or service to him and his job, she’s a person not a “part of his life” etc

- when Dax seemed to be leading it to “but you must be lonely” and kinda seeming to imply that Lily should be at more races etc Oscar just went nah I’m not lonely I’ve got a team of people looking out for me thanks lol

- Dax creaming himself over Brad Pitt [SORRY OMG this was supposed to be David Beckham but I was exhausted and got my rich white men mixed up] clearly expecting Oscar to do like other men and fanboy with him and Oscar’s just like haha yeaaaahh ok

- god do I love that Oscar owns being shy and an introvert but every single time Dax tried to create a self pity moment Oscar shut it down and said this is my job and I love my job even the parts that don’t come naturally

- and in particular emphasizing that his mum and sisters - and then his dad - shouldn’t have their lives affected by him chasing this crazy dream, they’re at races when they can be but it’s on Oscar himself to pursue this career that’s taken him so far away and has such narrow margins for success

I just seriously remain more and more impressed at how Oscar’s cool and maturity isn’t remotely an image. he isn’t going to get caught up in anything messy and it speaks a lot to Alpine being at fault for making assumptions without talking to him first. he’ll put his foot down when needed!

and not to landoscar the whole thing but god. Lando is so beautifully open about what he struggles with and his trajectory was so steep and so fast and he’s so young to be considered the seasoned driver in a team. and then he gets Oscar who is fully deferential to him and takes nothing for granted but also is this steady constant for Lando throughout a crazy season. I just love this more and more all the time.

#oscar piastri #op lore #oscar interview #mine

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fhrlclln · 1 year

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miguel o’hara x spider!fem! reader

just a bit of angst for experimental reasons guys… i’m sorry in advance <3

the lore im basing off is solely on the background story of miguel in the movie and a lil bit from the 928 miguel, so please mind me for switching it up, my loves!!

miguel is harsh but harsher towards you when you’re practically one of the first and loyal spider members to the league. why?

angst under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

miguel was harsh. rude, sassy, overly harsh but everyone got to experience that kind of attitude of his. not until that attitude went overboard with you. you didn’t know why or how this started but you knew miguel’s attitude of being snappy and that was kind of his way of showing a little affection. but to you, to you none of that was that. he was more cold, more snappy, more overly dismissive of you everyday since jess had recruited you and you didn’t know why.

your dimension was a variant of miguel’s as well, both of you are from nueva york. scientists at alchemax and in your dimension, he was just an ordinary colleague of yours. except that, this time you weren’t a mutant-spider hybrid like miguel is, but more that you were actually bitten by a radioactive spider and the rest was history from then when an anomaly from another dimension had gone to yours, thus meeting the leader himself and jess. which was a total surprise that you learned another miguel o’hara was spiderman as well.

“that’s all?” miguel asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“yeah.” you nodded awkwardly, tensed a bit, you had just reported to him about your mission you were assigned on. you stare at his back, seeing him flick away from his screen as you sighed, this bubble in your throat threatening to burst. the miguel you knew wasn’t like this a bit, sure he was still an asshole but this miguel was worser. the only time he was nice is when he softly told you that you can join the spider-society after jess had introduced you to him.

“leave me.” miguel says with no thank you of whatsoever, just pure coldness. you frown, wishing he would just try and be more a little civilized towards you. your mouth opens slightly, brows furrowed as you wanted to say something but you held back, still staring at his back, his movements were calculated as he didn’t notice you further. your feet sank to the ground as you nodded, the bitterness in your heart making your lips tremble underneath your mask as you guided yourself out of his lab.

jess watches from the shadows with great amount of displeasure as she glances up to miguel. you walked away, shoulders sunken and she could tell you were trying to hold yourself back at his attitude towards you.

“you can’t ignore her forever, miguel.” jess speaks up. miguel stills, glancing to his side as he rolls his eyes.

“it’s none of your business.” he deadpans, intent to not hear what jess has to say. she sighs, leaving the lab as well.

“at some point, she has to know.” jess quietly tells him before she leaves. he merely stays quiet, the sound of the footage he has been playing echoing his lonely lab. his fingers tap on their own on instinct when he’s alone as one video pops up to give him that feeling of that once happy time he had.

“look, papa!” his heart sinks hearing his little daughter’s voice. he looks happy back then, smiling, with cream on his face as his kid smiles with him when he puts her down. a pleasant memory to fill the void in his heart as he yearns for it again. the sound of little laughter, the feel of warmth around his heart, that same feeling of sweet happiness back then. love was there and regret was yet to overcome him.

“what are you doing? get in the video. mija, tell mama to join us.” his other self laughs as he looks behind the camera, miguel’s heart surges as the camera shakes for a moment. he watches, breath stilling, always readying for the next part as he tried to not dwell on the grieving feeling when he watches it.

“mama! come on!” he smiles for a bit, just barely.

“alright! wait, lemme just—“ your voice cuts in. his heart drops when you turn the camera over to you three now. all smiling as you kiss miguel on the cheek, teasing him for the cream on his face. miguel’s eyes train on yours, your smile was radiant as ever, same smile you had when he watches you sometimes when you talk alongside your fellow spider friends here.

“say cheese!” you cooed in the video, kissing your daughter on the head as the other miguel smiles widely, leaning against you. his heart sinks as his lips tremble, his fists clench when he remembers the first time he saw you again after both you and gabriella had died in his arms. he landed in your dimension when he was tracking that same anomaly, you were fighting alongside him, defeating the anomaly that had landed in your dimension. his first instinct was to sweep you up in his arms but he held himself back, knowing what further damage might do if he even gets close to you remembering how selfish he was taking place of the dimension the former miguel had. taking his place as your husband and the father to his child.

but was it so wrong knowing that in another world that it was possible for him to be happy?

he doesn’t know. and he makes sure to stay it that way no matter how he knows he puts much distance between the two of you since you joined the spider-society in the early days. the video ends as miguel shooks his head to clear his thoughts as he looks back to where you exited, a sinking feeling in his chest, urges he denies inside his head as he remembers what would happen if something between the two of you would transpire. he loves you, but he hopes that you wouldn’t know it. he hopes that you’d accept that his way of being a major asshole was in-order to protect you.

“she can’t know.” he mumbles underneath his breath, hands covering his tired face, his broken heart already torn to pieces as grief fills it in. convincing himself this is the only way for you to live.

you can’t know.

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IM SORRY. my next fics are spicy so stay tune <3

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara angst #oscar isaac #across the universe #across the spider verse spoilers #fnhrlcllnwrites

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seresinhangmanjake · 11 months

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The One I Want: Part 2

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 2010

---

He shakes his head, like clearing the fog from his brain, and steps forward. “I’m Jake,” he says, reaching his hand out toward you.

It’s done in such a casually confident manner that it dares you to take a step back, out of his reach and far from his influence. You take his hand anyway.

His palm against yours creates a slight buzzing sensation at your fingertips making you pull your hand away and tighten it into a fist before tucking it behind your back. “That makes more sense than the pretty brunette.”

“Oh, don’t flatter her. She’s not that great,” he says. There’s a light chuckle as he slips his hands into his front pockets. On any other man, you’d acknowledge the hint of nerves accompanying the action, but with this man in particular you brush it off. There is no way this man has ever been nervous a day in his life. “I’m surprised you’re up. Are you okay with your room?”

You glance down at the suitcase not far from where you stand. “I didn’t look for it. Seemed like snooping.”

“Oh, shit. That’s my fault.” Hand flying out of his pocket, he runs it down his face again. He blows out a breath that feels like some form of self-scolding for letting himself neglect you, then bends down to wrap his fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “You can come with me.”

The apartment, while nice, isn’t overly large. The door to what you learn is your room can be seen from your first few steps through the front entryway, but still, you’re glad you didn’t peek on your own. You could’ve found yourself face-to-face with his private space and unable to avoid developing opinions of him based on the first-glance contents of his room.

With a turn and a push, Jake opens your door and stands back against one side of the frame so you can enter. Side-stepping past him, though, is a bit of a squeeze and you can’t help the way your breasts brush across his chest. You don’t miss his flinch and the sharp intake of air through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

Whether or not he heard you goes unknown as he sets your suitcase down once you’re inside the room and begins his mini tour. “Um, bed,” comes out a little gritty. He points to the largest piece of furniture in the room like you’re a two-year-old learning the names of basic household items. With a cough to clear his throat, he continues. “That door over there is the closet,” he points some more. “And that one’s the bathroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be alright for you.”

There’s a pang in your stomach from his last two words. For you. An unnecessary addition with so much power. Power you refuse to let yourself dwell on.

“It’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Right, well I’ll, uh–” Those eyes do their scanning of you again. Lips, breasts, hips. Blink and you would’ve missed it. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he says. "It's nice to meet you."

You would say the same, but he’s gone before you get the chance. Shutting the door behind him, you toss your suitcase onto the bed and begin to unpack.

—

The funny thing about these towns—while each one is different from another in appearance and people, they always reveal themselves to share a core component. Your willingness to stay put, and for how long, lies with this component. It is a matter of how intense this component—this judgment—is, and whether or not it infects enough around you to transform everything into a reminder of why you do not belong. While many things have the potential to prove you right or wrong as far as the degree to which you might be judged, what remains a constant disappointment is your attempts to obtain a job.

It doesn’t matter where you look. You get the same once-over, the same raised brow, the same unspoken questions lingering in the air. Are you lost? Did you stumble through the wrong door?

In one day you’ve been turned down by three jobs with ‘help wanted’ signs stuck on the inside of their building’s front window. What’s worse is that, in following typical company policy, they don’t shoo you away at the door. They take your resume, they sit you down, ask you a host of questions, and eventually declare you’re not right for the position.

A restaurant manager did not see you fit for a waitress. Neither did a cafe owner find you capable as a barista. The most painful, however, was also the riskiest. The head of the sales floor at the lingerie boutique who seemed to think women of a certain size aren’t in need of lacy fabrics that accentuate their best bits and pieces because surely they don’t have sex.

That was the one that did you in for the day and now has you moseying back to the apartment.

You walk through the door and shed yourself of jacket, purse, and shoes, likely looking as exhausted as your new roommate did when you first laid eyes on him the night before. You knew you recognized something in the weariness of his eyes. While unexpected, last night Jake Seresin was tired because someone—or many someones—had worn him out.

“Hi.”

You jolt upright, head instinctually turning toward the voice. You’re not used to sharing your space, and obviously so since Jake immediately raises his hands in silent apology for startling you.

“Hi,” you reply, the word riding on the sigh that passes through your lips.

With as much as you can muster for him, you offer a smile before aiming for your bedroom. But you don’t get far.

“What have you been up to all day?” he asks, halting you.

He’s not going to let you go, you realize, not without giving him something in return. Though, seeing as he’s your new roommate who took you in on short notice and charges you pennies to stay, you figure you can oblige.

He’s sitting at the island in the kitchen, now with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. His thumb taps away at the screen, but when you near him he quickly sets it down to offer you his full attention. It’s then that you notice his missing shirt. Your mind must have filled in that blank. You’d assumed some sort of tank top was hidden by the angle at which he sat when you entered the apartment; that the fabric’s color was not so different from the tone of his skin. Looking at him in his bareness now, you can’t ignore how ridiculous that thought was.

You also can’t ignore him; sitting there without shame, practically taunting you to run your eyes over every ridge and valley of his sculpted form. And it is sculpted. Artwork.

But you don’t allow yourself the luxury. Instead, you answer, “Looking for a job.”

Jake sits a little straighter. “I can probably help with that,” he says. “I’ve got a friend who owns a bar down the street, and–”

“No!” you snap. The hope that it wasn’t as harsh as it sounded is snuffed out by the slight widening of his eyes. “Thank you,” is softer, “but no bars.”

He watches you a moment longer before he nods and repeats, “No bars. Got it.” Another moment of silence fills the room until he breaks it. “I’ll ask around.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” You wave away the thought and shake your head, aiming to get off the topic. Solidifying that is your immediate shift onto him. He seems like a guy who probably enjoys talking about himself, anyway. “So, you don’t fly on the weekend?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Have people stopped traveling on Saturdays?”

Blond brows pinch as he twists the beer bottle in absent-minded circles with his fingertips. “What?”

Crossing your arms, you step further into the kitchen until your stomach is resting against the edge of the island. “Your friend said you’re a pilot. I just figured you’d be working a lot.”

Jake’s face doesn’t change; still the epitome of confusion, and you don’t know how to fill the painfully long beats while he examines you. Why you let him examine you must be a slip of the conscious mind, but you keep still. Then his face settles. He takes a sip of his beer, sets it down, and, instead of simply looking at you, stares hard into your eyes.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Wh–” you pause, readjusting your stance. “What makes you think that?”

“Anyone who says ‘pilot’ in this town—or frankly, even close by—assumes Navy, not airline,” he says. If he’s insulted, it doesn’t show. “I’m far from some Delta guy.”

Internally you curse. That err in knowledge peels back a layer of your paint, inviting curiosity and questions. And by the gleam in Jake’s eye, you’re sure you’re going to get plenty. “You’re in the Navy.”

“I am,” he confirms with a single nod. “And most people here have ties to it in some way. But not you, it seems.”

You fidget in the gap between his statements.

“So, where exactly did you come from,” he continues, a wry smile stretching his lips, “And how did you end up here of all places?”

When you meet his stare, you don’t care for the sparkle peeking through. “I drove.”

His head throws back in laughter. “That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you need,” you stress. It’s his own fault for not asking those questions following your email answering his ad. He had an opportunity. He didn’t take it. That’s not your problem. And the longer you stand here, clearly providing him with entertainment, you're once again struck with the desperation to get his attention off of you.

Without much to grasp, you go for the obvious. You allow your eyes to trail downwards and morph your features into a forced grimace. “Don’t you wear clothes?”

“Oh.” Looking down at himself, a gulp bulges his throat. “My bad. It’s been a while since I’ve had to wear a shirt around the place.” Is that disappointment in his tone? Maybe. Who in the world wouldn’t be insulted at the request to put on more clothes instead of removing an additional article? You certainly have been, so who is to say Jake Seresin—who undoubtedly has never faced such a request—wouldn’t feel the same?

To your surprise, he hops up immediately and rounds the island for his room; a move you would appreciate much more if it didn’t reveal the gray sweatpants settled low on his hips. There’s a defined V and a line of hair that disappears below the waistband. You hate that V. You hate that dusting of hair, blonder against his tan skin. Men with Vs and an irritatingly perfect amount of hair there are trouble. Each and every one of them.

“I’ll go get that shirt. Don’t go anywhere.”

For whatever reason—one you’re unwilling to dissect—you do as he asks. But then a light flashes in your peripheral vision. The screen of his phone in response to a new message.

You don’t want to look, not really, but you can’t help yourself. Years of people whispering behind your back, sneaking glances, chuckling, has planted the evergrowing seed of paranoia. Inching closer to the phone, you tap the rectangular block on his screen that reads Nat. Though the phone is locked, the notification expands to reveal the full message.

See, Paranoid is an interesting label. It accuses you of misunderstanding, of being too suspicious, too anxious, or even crazy; and you won’t deny you’ve probably been wrong before, assuming people are talking about you who haven’t spared you a thought. But sometimes, that label is unfair. Sometimes—often, in fact—you are right.

And when you read ‘Not what you expected, is she?’ followed by a tiny smirking face, you know this is one of those times.

---

A/N: I hope you liked it! If there are typos blame that on my anxiety. I've got a life-defining procedure tomorrow so wish me luck

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