#the m condo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seungkw1 · 22 days ago

Text

ring my bell — ljh

♡ pairing: neighbor!jihoon x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni] ♡ wc: 7k ♡ warnings: sub!reader, but also subby!jihoon, size kink, praise kink, auralism/ecouteurism, masturbation (m. & f.), oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), cum swallowing, creampie, cockwarming, dacryphilia, size kink, hair pulling, gagging, missionary, 69, nipple play/boob worship, multiple orgasms, sex toys, mild alcohol consumption, did i mention size kink, lil fluff at the end ♡ a/n: i abandoned this fic at least five times lmao but then one night at like 2am the brain rot took over and here we are! tysm to @wonwovy for beta reading, @shinysobi for the title suggestion, and @miniseokminnies for help w the photos <3

When you moved into your new condo, you were pretty sure you hit the jackpot. At first, you were a bit suspicious - how could the rent be so low in this part of town, with such a nice building? But for two months after you moved in, you’ve had no problems. Sure, the shower head is a bit leaky sometimes, and you could use a bit more storage space, but overall - no complaints. As an added bonus the unit next to you was vacant - aka, peace and quiet. Perfection.

That vacancy didn't last forever, though. Two months in, and you found yourself with a new neighbor. You haven't had a chance to properly introduce yourself to him yet, but from the brief glimpses of him you've gotten he seems nice. You suspect he's around your age, a bit quiet, definitely keeps to himself but has been very polite in passing. And while he's not exactly your type, you do admit he is pretty cute. So, nothing wrong with him.

You did, however, quickly discover two major problems. One, it turns out the walls are paper fucking thin. And two - to make matters worse - his bedroom is apparently right on the other side of yours, sharing a wall. And you can hear everything.

By the sounds of it, the guy is single. You never hear any other voices, just his - soft moans emanating through the sad excuse for a wall, gradually getting louder, culminating in a symphony of unholy noises. You've never heard a man be so… vocal before.

At first, you just try to ignore it. Obviously, he's doing nothing wrong - this is simply a consequence of shared living spaces. So you do your best to mind your business.

Easier said than done.

A week passes. You still haven't had a chance to actually say hi to your new neighbor, but you already feel like you've become intimately acquainted with him. It feels a bit… wrong. This is very clearly a one-sided situation. You don't even know the guy’s name for fuck’s sake. Yet, each time, a sharp aching sensation forms a pit in your stomach. You find yourself fantasizing about him - wishing you could be on the other side of the wall, wishing you were the one responsible for the sounds being produced.

You've gone and fallen for a complete stranger - or at least, the idea of him. Fucking great.

You just need to actually meet him, you tell yourself. He could be a complete asshole. Or maybe just not your type at all. Once you say hi, you'll get over this silly little fantasy in no time.

I’ll make sure to run into him tomorrow, you determine. You go to bed, content with your plan.

Not five minutes after you crawl under the covers, you start to hear faint groans.

You reach for your airpods, but they're not on your nightstand. You must have left them in the other room.

It’s fine, you decide. It’ll be over soon enough.

But tonight, apparently, he is taking his sweet time.

You stuff your head under the pillows, trying to drown out the sensual sounds, but the moaning persists. Even muffled it’s loud - and it only gets worse as the minutes pass.

Just when you think he’s about to finish, the sounds cease. Thank god, you think as you roll over, ready to finally get some sleep.

But a minute later he starts up again. Slowly at first, once again taking his time, increasing his speed at an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually his breaths grow shorter, his groaning louder. Then, he stops.

As if he set out to torment you tonight, he begins once more.

You lay there, eyes closed, unmoving, breathing deeply, trying to ignore the aching between your legs. But it's impossible.

The third time around, he's clearly very on edge. His moans turn loud, whiny, pathetic. It's probably the hottest thing you've ever heard.

Don’t do it don't do it don't do it…

As if your arm has gained a mind of its own, your hand slides beneath the fabric of your underwear. You gasp as your fingers slip between your folds - you're fucking wet.

Your already-throbbing bud pulsates between your fingers. Slowly, you begin to rub your clit. The sensation is immediately overwhelming; the uninhibited cries of pleasure emanating from the other side of the wall are enough to send you over the edge. Just when you think you can't take another moment of this, he cums. And so do you.

Your free hand clasps over your mouth just in time. You try as hard as you possibly can to stay silent - but you want to scream. You writhe against the sheets to the sound of his release, riding out your orgasm on your fingertips. Muffled cries escape despite your efforts - but are lost amidst the man’s sea of moans. You cum long and hard, savoring every last moment of your high.

As you start to come down, you sink into your mattress, body spent, mind drifting off. Your neighbor seems to have exhausted himself too - the only sounds carrying through the wall now being that of deep breaths.

So much for running into him tomorrow.

You flop over onto your side, shoving the thought away - but you know even if you try, you can't avoid him forever.

You just pray to god he didn't hear you.

Of course, after a week without any encounters, you manage to run into him the very next day.

Upon returning from the grocery store, you head to your building’s elevator. The doors are closing as you approach, so you figure you'll just take the next one - but the occupant holds the door for you.

“Thank you,” you say cheerfully, but as you step inside your stomach drops. You are face to face with your new neighbor.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, making direct eye contact with you. You want to disappear into the walls, but you maintain your composure. The button for your floor is already lit up, so he presses the close door button.

“I believe I just moved into the unit next to yours,” he says as you set your heavy bags on the floor. “I've seen you around but haven't had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Jihoon.”

He extends his hand out to you. You instantly regret setting your bags down.

You smile calmly, hoping he doesn't notice how flustered you are. But as you slide your hand into his, your heart rate rises. It doesn't help that he has really nice hands - large, warm, with fingers long and graceful, and a nice strong grip against your own hand. Your mind flashes back to the events of last night, picturing what those hands were doing…

Stop it.

“I’m y/n,” you reply with a smile, trying to be as normal as possible. “Nice to meet you.”

You withdraw your hand from his grasp as he lets go - nonchalantly, but with haste. Any longer and your palms would have probably started sweating.

“So, how are you liking it here so far?” you ask casually.

“So far so good,” he replies. “I'm honestly surprised that I was able to find anything in this part of town for such a good deal. Nice and quiet here too.”

Quiet.

You fear your suspicions are correct: he has no idea he's been putting on a nightly show for you.

The elevator gives a soft ding as it comes to a stop. You reach down to grab your bags as the door opens.

“Can I help you with that?”

“Oh, uh… sure.”

He picks up the heavy bags with ease. You could tell that he’s a muscular guy, but up close he looks straight up beefy. It doesn't help that the tight shirt he's wearing hugs all his muscles perfectly, his biceps nearly bursting out of his sleeves. You force yourself to look away before you start fucking drooling.

He delivers the bags to your front door. He returns them to you with care, making sure you have a firm grip on the handles before letting go. His hand lingers upon yours momentarily - the lightest brush of his fingertips against yours enough for your insides to do a somersault.

“Thanks again,” you tell him, making the mistake of direct eye contact again.

“Of course,” Jihoon replies warmly. “See you around.”

You flash him a smile, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “Bye!!” you blurt abruptly as you unlock your front door, hurrying inside. You want to turn around, get one more good look at him - but you shut the door behind you.

Your head spins as you put your groceries away. You're so wrapped up in your imagination that you nearly put the milk in the cabinet. But you can't stop daydreaming about what those muscles look like underneath his shirt.

You finish up and head into your bedroom. A nice hot shower should clear your mind. Not two seconds after taking off your shirt, you freeze. The familiar sounds from next door have begun yet again.

You stand there, half horrified, half horny. Surely it's nothing more than coincidence that your neighbor got home and started jacking off minutes after having a conversation with you. He was probably gonna do that anyway, you try to convince yourself. You're just having main character syndrome right now, this has nothing to do with you.

But your gut is telling you otherwise.

Mindlessly your fingers drift to your bra clasp, removing the garment. Taking your breast in one hand you stroke your thumb over your nipple, already hard from sudden exposure to the cool air of your room. You let yourself stand there for a minute, listening to Jihoon’s soft moans, imagining you could see him through the wall, slowly stroking his cock in his hands.

You feel guilty, ashamed, but the aching in your cunt overpowers any sense of remorse. Your hand makes its way into your pants, your fingers gliding through your folds, slipping easily into your soaked pussy. You wince silently, stifling the moans desperately trying to escape you. Slowly, you begin to fuck yourself. You can't help but think about how it would feel if it were Jihoon’s fingers inside you instead.

You stand there for a couple minutes, your clit throbbing against the motion of your palm - threatening to make you scream and cum.

You can't let him hear you, you keep telling yourself. But part of you almost wants him to hear you. You picture him getting so turned on hearing your cries of pleasure that he cums instantly, all over himself, making a huge mess that you would love nothing more than to help clean up.

You feel your climax rapidly approaching. You cease moving your fingers, but let them remain resting inside you. You try to calm yourself down, taking deep breaths to slow your pounding heart, but just as your head starts to clear you hear a sudden swell of orgasmic sounds from through the wall. As if by reflex your hand moves again. Your body tremors at the pressure against your overstimulated clit - you cum in silence, forcing your cries back inside you as . You ride out your high, and so does Jihoon, his moans slowly softening as he comes back down.

Heart pounding, you slowly remove your fingers from your cunt. Your hand is soaked; you find yourself wishing it was Jihoon's face instead, glistening with your juices after eating you out, making you cum an unreasonable amount of times.

You sigh. You know this should all feel wrong. But why does it feel so good then?

A strange combination of feelings overtake your body: tingling bliss from your orgasm, guilt from the reason for your orgasm, an overpowering yearning for the touch of essentially an entire stranger.

You strip the remainder of your clothes off and proceed to take a very long, very hot shower.

You wake up the next morning stupidly horny.

It didn’t help that you had a dream about Jihoon. In it, you were standing in his bedroom, watching him masturbate to the sight of you. His cries echoing through your subconscious, the pathetic look on this face as he came all over himself - it’s not surprising you woke up to a puddle between your legs.

You pause, listening to see if you can hear your neighbor next door, but you hear nothing. You reach into your nightstand, pulling out your favorite vibrator. The purple device rumbles in your hand as you turn it on. For a vibrator, it’s pretty quiet, but with your stupid thin walls you know it would be perfectly audible from the other side. You think Jihoon isn’t around - surely you would hear him if he were - but even if he is, you truly don’t even care anymore. You position the toy lightly upon your clit - even through the fabric of your underwear, its powerful vibrations instantly feel amazing. A soft groan escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your hips begin to move lightly at the stimulation - the pressure of the vibrator’s end causing your wetness to stick to your panties. You attempt to restrain your moaning, but before long you cease resisting. It feels too good. Your orgasm quickly builds in your gut, making you whimper as you squirm against your pillow, its intensity growing and growing until - you cum. The fire of your release burns through your body, your cries filling the air without abandon. Deep breaths fill your lungs as you come down, soft gasps emanating from your lips as you turn the toy off and toss it aside.

A series of thunks echo from through the wall, followed by a hushed “shit”.

It sounds like somebody dropping a phone or something, but whatever it is - turns out your neighbor was home after all. Whoops.

In your post-orgasm bliss you begin to drift back to sleep. You don’t know what you’re going to do now next time you run into Jihoon, but that’s a problem for later.

You end up sleeping in far too late. By the time you wake up, you feel groggy and sluggish, so you figure going to the gym will help you feel a little better. You don a soft pink pair of leggings and a light gray sports bra, filling your water bottle and grabbing your airpods on your way out the door. You wait in the hallway for the elevator. It reaches your floor with a ding, its doors sliding open to reveal who other than your next door neighbor.

Of fucking course.

He appears to be returning from the gym, his tight white t-shirt clinging to his body in a way that practically puts all his muscles on display. His dark hair is damp and sweaty, messy, stray strands of it sticking to his forehead. He looks up to see you standing there, a panicked look instantly filling his eyes. His skin is already flush from exercising, but his ears turn practically crimson at the sight of you.

“Hi,” you say with a friendly smile.

He freezes, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly tries to shake it off.

“Oh, uh, hey,” he mumbles in an attempted nonchalant tone, but already his cheeks are becoming more flustered. You see his eyes flicker up and down your body - your outfit isn’t terribly revealing, but it’s certainly on the sexier side of athleticwear. He stands there, awkwardly frozen - so long that the elevator door begins to shut again. He grabs hold of it, triggering the motion sensor so it reopens. He starts to shuffle past you, but you decide you’re feeling bold enough to try and engage him in a conversation.

“Just coming back from the gym?” you ask casually.

He stops in the hallway, standing right before you.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Do you also go to the one over on Clark Street?” you question. You won’t hold him up too long - he looks like he wants to perish - but you figure you’ll torment him for another minute or so. “That’s where I’m headed now.”

“Yeah, I do,” he answers, subtly shifting his gym bag in front of his body.

“Cool! Maybe we’ll see each other there sometime,” you tell him in a chipper tone.

“Maybe, yeah. That’d be cool,” he replies, smiling nervously.

You enter the elevator and press the ground floor button.

“Well, see ya around!” you tell him with a wave.

“You too,” he responds, not taking his eyes off you until the elevator door shuts closed.

Three days pass - three days of pure silence from the other side of the wall.

Now that Jihoon has discovered the truth, he's clearly mortified. You catch a few glimpses of him around the building, but the man practically vanishes at the sight of you. You feel a little bit bad, but you know the ruse could not have lasted forever anyway.

Unless he somehow knows exactly when you're not home and has been jacking off exclusively then, you haven't heard him pull his dick out at all. And judging by the couple times you've seen him, the man has been incredibly on edge.

You return home a bit late in the evening after hanging out with some friends. You’ve had a fair bit of wine, so you're feeling a little tipsy, but you're in a pleasantly good mood. You're also decently horny; your mind drifts to your neighbor, conjuring up the image of him returning from the gym, sweaty, muscular, his t-shirt damp and tightly fitted against his sculpted body.

Not two minutes pass after you step inside before you hear the SLAM of a door from the hallway. Footsteps approach your unit, followed by frantic knocking on your front door.

You scurry over to the entrance, reaching out to unlock the door, but the pit in your stomach makes you pause. What if he’s mad at you? you start to worry.

Well, only one way to find out.

With the click the deadbolt turns. You swing the door open to reveal Jihoon, in a plain white t-shirt and grey fucking sweatpants.

He stares at you, standing frozen in your doorway. You can see the gears turning in his head, trying to calculate if this is all a mistake.

After just enough moments of silence for it to be awkward, he clears his throat.

“Hi, um… May I come in?”

He looks incredibly tense, but the way he's staring at you with such intensity makes your pussy ache.

“Sure.”

You step aside, gesturing for him to come in.

He enters. He takes a look around as you shut the door behind him.

“It's really nice in here,” he comments, attempting to make small talk.

“Oh, thank you,” you say with a friendly smile. He looks even more nervous now that he's in your apartment. He pauses, nonchalantly observing some of the artwork on your wall, seemingly trying (and failing) to come up with a good segue into whatever he came over here to say.

“So, um…” he starts, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

“I just wanted to… uh… well, I figured I should probably let you know…”

You inch even closer to him as he stumbles over his words; his shoulders tense slightly. He runs one hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze.

“I guess I just wanted to apologize,” he finally is able to articulate. “I just recently realized that the walls in this building are pretty thin and uh… well I guess I don’t know if I've been loud at all…”

Blushed redness creeps up his neck as his terrible lying resonates through the room.

Maybe it's the way he's standing there, doing nothing but stumbling over his words yet looking incredibly sexy, or maybe it's the wine - but you're feeling bold today.

“Yeah, you have been.”

The pale color of his cheeks suddenly goes even paler, turning his entire face sheet-white as he stands there, horrified. Then, the redness returns with a vengeance. He looks like a very hot, very nervous tomato.

“I’m so sorry,” he stammers, “I really had no idea-”

“Why are you apologizing?”

He stares at you, confused.

“Um…”

He waits for you to clarify, but you don't. Seeing him this flustered up close and personal has your panties soaked already, and you want to revel in it.

He lets out a deep sigh.

“I just… I know I can be loud sometimes, but from now on I’ll be more conscientious of my… volume. And I just don't want you to think I’m perverted or anything…”

He shakes his head, realizing he's just digging himself a deeper hole at this point.

“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you, I should get going-”

He tries to slip past you, but you throw your arm out in front of him, slamming your palm into the wall of the narrow hallway as you block him from exiting. He freezes, involuntarily holding his breath as panic spreads across his face.

“What if I like it?”

Your arm brushes against his torso, his chest heaving into you with his quickening breaths.

“What?” he asks, barely more than a whisper, clearly taken aback by your question.

“What if I like hearing you?”

His eyes widen. You step even closer into his personal space, your face now mere inches from his.

“What if I want to hear you making those noises on this side of the wall, in my bed?”

You grasp onto his t-shirt, yanking his body into yours. He lets out a gasp as your tits press into his chest - his mouth is now so close to yours that you feel the exhale against your lips.

“Would you like that?”

He gazes at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Then - he kisses you.

It's not a delicate kiss, nor is it sweet. He kisses you as if he intends to devour you, hungrily tugging at your lips as he grasps at your waist fervorously, aching to touch every inch of you.

His large hands slip underneath your shirt, gripping your sides tight as he caresses your warm skin. Your heart races in your chest, the sounds of rushing blood flooding your ears as you kiss Jihoon, savoring the sweet taste of his lips, basking in the radiant heat of his body against yours.

“Oh wow,” he mutters into your mouth as his lips depart yours briefly.

You grasp onto his tshirt, balling the fabric in your fists, pulling him with you as you stumble toward your bedroom together, still kissing him.

As you step through the doorway, you tug on his shirt, prompting him to remove it. He pauses, contemplating the taste of wine lingering on your lips.

“Are you… drunk?” he asks delicately. “I just want to make sure…”

“A little,” you reply, leaning into him, so close that the vibrations of your soft-spoken words resonate against his lips.

“But I know what I want.”

Jihoon squeezes the flesh of your hips, his grip unrelentless, as if someone was going to take you away from him. A thick bulge beneath his sweatpants presses against you as he holds you tightly against him.

“And what do you want?” he asks in a low voice, staring at you hungrily. “Tell me.”

“First,” you start, pulling at his shirt again. “Get rid of this.”

He yanks his tshirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Standing before you now, shirtless, you get a true look at his brawny figure: huge biceps framing his body, thick pectorals protruding from his chest, chiseled abs sculpting his stomach. The man has muscles you didn’t even know existed. You delicately drag your fingertips up and down his torso, admiring him; his cock twitches against you at your touch.

“God you’re so fucking hot,” you mumble as you gaze into his eyes - giving him the most pathetic, needy, seductive look you can muster.

Redness spreads across his neck and chest. He’s clearly easily flustered (at least, for you), and you plan to take full advantage of this.

You slip one finger beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging lightly.

“Now, get rid of these.”

Obediently, he slides his pants down, having to stretch the elastic further to get it over his bulge. Kicking the sweats off, you get a clearer look at what he’s packing. Even through the dark fabric of his underwear, the outline of his hard cock is undeniable - not only long, but thick. Your pussy clenches at the mere sight of his size.

You can't wait any longer. You run your hand over his clothed cock, feeling its weight in your palm. Jihoon groans, letting out the sweet sound you've until now only heard muffled through the wall. Hearing him now, here, in your bedroom - it's music to your ears.

Reaching into his underwear, you grip your hand around his girth - he nearly whimpers at the sensation. You give him a few strokes before pulling his cock fully out, causing you to let out an audible gasp.

Fucking shit.

Jihoon gives you an embarrassed smile, making you realize you said that out loud and not just in your head. But if anything your reaction wasn't even dramatic enough, because his cock is fucking huge. You take him in your fist, slowly pumping up and down; his eyes roll back into his head, letting out a deep sigh as you stroke him. You press your lips into his neck, planting delicate kisses into the soft skin.

“Oh god,” he groans under his breath.

With his dick twitching in your hand, growing stiff and somehow even longer, you drop to your knees, positioning your face directly beneath the behemoth of a cock. You gaze up at him as you drag your tongue from his base to his tip; he strokes your cheek lightly with the back of his fingers, gazing down at you with a look of equal parts admiration and lust. You swirl your tongue around the head, tasting the precum that has dribbled out. Taking just a tiny bit of his tip between puckered lips, you begin suckling on it, lapping up his juices and teasing him with the bare-minimum stimulation. His low hum swells into a moan as you slowly slide his cock into your mouth, taking as much of his length as possible before you start to choke (Not yet, you think to yourself. Save that for later.)

“Fuck, you look so good right now,” he groans, cupping your cheek in his large hand as you stare up at him with big doe eyes. “So beautiful with my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Sharp throbbing pulses between your legs at the slightest of praise. You slide your mouth up and down his length, gradually increasing your pace. His tip hitting the back of your mouth only makes you want more, makes you want to swallow him whole, gag on the entire shaft as his massive size fills your throat. Finally, you can resist no longer - you swallow the rest of him, your lips greeting his base as his full length slides down your throat. Tears instantly begin welling in your eyes, streaming down your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, choking on Jihoon’s cock.

He places one hand upon your hair, grasping it in his fist as you give him the absolute sloppiest head he’s ever received. Grotesque gagging sounds emanate from your throat, but are nearly drowned out by the lewd string of moans coming from Jihoon. He wants nothing more than to watch you choke on his cock, see your tears flowing freely as you stare up at him, eyes longingly transfixed upon each other - but he can’t help but shut his eyes, head falling back at the overwhelming pleasure you’re making him feel. It starts to take over his whole body - his hips reflexively begin thrusting, sinking his length deep into your throat. Before long he pulls you by the hair, wresting you off of him; strings of saliva stretch from his drenched cock to your coated lips, bubbles of spit running down your chin.

“Sorry, that was going to make me cum way too fast,” he tells you with a sheepish smile. “You’re just so- ohhh…” His sentence is cut off by you placing one of his balls in your mouth, lightly sucking on it before taking the other as well.

“Fuck that’s hot,” he grumbles, stroking your hair gently. You shift on your knees, trying to sit more comfortably upon the floor; Jihoon notices.

“Come here,” he instructs as he pulls you up off the floor. “I want you to be comfortable.”

He brings you over to the bed, laying down atop it. You go to resume your place between his legs, but he grabs your arms to stop you.

“You should take these off,” he insists, tugging at your clothes with desperation in his eyes. “Please. I wanna see you.”

You pull your shirt over your head, discarding it to the floor. Slowly you unfasten your pants, sliding them down your hips - a bit timidly, for as horny as you are right now you’re suddenly afflicted with a wave of shyness. But the way Jihoon is looking at you - eyes glazed over with pure lust, licking his lips like he wants to devour you - is driving you utterly crazy. You swiftly remove your bra and panties, standing nude before him as he marvels at the sight of you.

“You’re perfect,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly. Your pussy clenches, attempting to alleviate the powerful aching in your core. Jihoon takes your hand, drawing you into the side of the bed.

“Sit on my face. Please.”

It’s not an order; the way he is looking up at you, squeezing your hand - he’s begging.

“Only if I can suck your cock at the same time,” you say with a cheeky grin. His eyes widen.

“Would you like that?” you ask coyly, batting your eyelashes at him as you trace circles on his stomach with one fingernail.

“Y-yeah,” he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly.

“Good.”

You crawl onto the bed, swinging your legs over Jihoon’s head as you face his painfully erect cock. You situate yourself steadily, lowering your pussy toward his face, until you feel his soft, plush lips against you. Instantly he lets out a loud moan, the vibrations against your soaked core triggering a sharp jolt in your stomach. He wraps his arms around your inner thighs, holding you tight against him, his moans still resonating through the room even with his face buried in your cunt.

He begins to work his tongue deep into your folds, licking every last bit, lapping up as much of your juices as he possibly can - the rest certainly dripping down his chin. You lean over, reaching for his thick cock one more; you grip the base tight in your fist, stroking the hilt while taking the rest in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his length. The pathetic noises coming from under your cunt grow even louder - Jihoon begins to squirm underneath you, bucking his hips as he continues eating you out as if the world were ending tomorrow. He latches onto your clit, suckling on the stimulated bud; you cry out, but the sound is garbled amidst your cacophony of unbridled gagging noises. Your eyes flood with tears as your orgasm rapidly approaches - you grind your hips on his face, stimulating your pussy further and further, the burning in your gut swelling and swelling, your legs trembling even in Jihoon’s tight embrace. Your whole body convulses atop of his as you reach your climax. Desperate for air, you pull your head up, your mouth now empty but quickly refilled with cries of pleasure as you cum all over Jihoon’s face.

“Oh my godddd,” you wail, your mind going blank as every nerve in your body lights up like fireworks.

“Oh my god, oh fuckkkk, Jihoon…”

The rumbling vibrations of his groaning carry you through an overpowering orgasm; you ride out your high as he sucks on your clit mercilessly while his nose presses into your cunt. You’re seeing stars as you begin to come down, unable to think any coherent thoughts - instead basking in how fucking incredible Jihoon just made you feel.

You lift your throbbing pussy off his face, giving your poor overstimulated clit a moment to recover.

“Gonna cum, ‘m so close,” Jihoon moans. You quickly pop his dick back into your mouth, sliding his length in and out, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, ahhhhh, ah fuck-”

Hot white ropes shoot deep into your throat as he releases. His melodic moans and whining cries form a grand symphony that fills your bedroom - in this moment, you are absolutely certain that you've never heard a more beautiful sound.

His cock pulsates in your mouth, letting out every last spurt of cum for you to eagerly swallow. As he finishes, you slowly slide his cock out of your mouth - still marveling at the sheer size of it.

“Oh my god,” he groans softly. You swing your leg over his head, turning yourself around to lay beside him. You wrap your arms around his torso, becoming the big spoon as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

“Wow,” he proclaims with a deep, satisfied exhale. He lays silently as he recovers, catching his breath and coming back down to earth. Finally, with a sigh, he turns to face you. You raise your head up enough for your noses to meet.

Jihoon gazes into your eyes, eyelids heavy in his post-orgasmic bliss. He hesitates, bringing his hand up to your cheek and cradling it gently.

“Can I kiss you?” he finally asks, his voice no more than a soft whisper.

You nod. He kisses you - this time not hungry and desperate, but slow and saccharine. Your lips lock, laying there entangled in each other’s embrace - his muscular arms hold you tight, enveloping you in the warmth radiating from both of your sweat-covered bodies. As your lips eventually part, you remain snuggled by his side - him playing with your hair while you trace your fingertips over his toned body. Eventually, he takes your chin delicately in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him.

“I don’t know if fucking your next door neighbor is necessarily a wise thing to do,” he starts. “But that was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You smile.

“I don't know either,” you chuckle. “But the way you basically broke down my door to come fuck me was really hot.”

Jihoon laughs, his face lighting up with a beaming smile.

“Yeah, um. I'm not entirely sure what compelled me to do that.”

“I do,” you inform him. “You were thinking with your dick.”

“Okay yeah, you're right,” he admits with a grin.

He reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, squeezing your palm.

“Would you want to do this again?”

“Like, right now?” you reply.

“No I mean like- … well, yes actually,” he answers, his face lighting up with excitement. “But I meant like, in the future.”

You nod, a wide grin spreading across your face.

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” he smiles. “Me too.”

“But also…”

Your arms grab hold of him, rolling him over on top of you. He tries to shift, to not be placing his whole weight upon you, but you cling to him tightly, holding him in place. You roll your hips, stroking his still half-erect cock with your soaked cunt; you feel it pulse in response, already beginning to harden again.

“I want you to fuck me,” you speak softly into his ear, continuing to grind your pussy on his cock. His eyes roll back in his head once more.

“God you're so fucking hot,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. His eyelashes flutter as his eyes open again, peering down at you amorously.

“Give me just a minute, baby,” he says as he shifts downward, positioning himself directly in front of your boobs. He grabs one with each hand, kneading the soft flesh in his grasp. He licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around the protruding bud, wetting it with his warm mouth before switching to your other breast. He gives them equal attention, licking and sucking on them, back and forth - whichever boob isn't in his mouth, he pinches your hard nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. You press your hips up into his stomach, seeking any relief for your aching clit, but it's not enough. You whimper as he latches on to your left nipple, suckling on it so long you think you might cum again just from this. You feel the bed move beneath you as he grinds his cock against the sheets, thrusting into the mattress, seeking relief for his returned erection.

He lifts his head up, releasing his latch on your breast with a wet-sounding pop. His eyes stay fixed on you as he shifts further down the bed, resting comfortably between your legs as his lips hover above your cunt.

“Is this okay?” he checks before placing his mouth on you. You nod earnestly, brushing your fingers through his damp, messy hair. His tongue locates your entrance, slipping into your pussy, his nose brushing up against your clit, still highly sensitive from your first orgasm. You moan as his tongue glides through your folds, his face becoming soaked once again in your juices. He flickers over your clit, the warmth and wetness of his tongue quickly sending you over the edge. Your body writhes beneath him as you cum a second time, crying out with even greater pleasure than the first. It's almost overbearing, but you relish in it, delicious waves of bliss pulsating throughout your whole being. His tongue slows, licking you softly as you lay there, unable to move for a few good minutes, basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. Your fist slowly unclenches, releasing the grip you didn't realize you had on his tousled locks.

“Damn,” you mumble, a big goofy grin spreading across your face. Jihoon crawls back up toward you, kissing you with lips drenched in your own cum. His cock, fully hard once more, brushes against your cunt. Although you're still trying to catch your breath, you place your entrance against his tip to taunt him.

“Please fuck me,” you beg, desperate to feel him inside you.

He pushes his cockhead into your pussy, letting out a moan as he feels your warmth. Your walls tighten as he slides the rest of his length in, fully enveloping his cock - he whines, loudly, letting the delicious sensation overtake him. He rests for a moment inside you, fearing to move as he feels the urge to cum already. But he’s too aroused to resist for much longer - slowly he begins to pump into you, deep thrusts stretching you out, filling you up like you've never felt before. He’s almost too big, but you love it. Tears well in your eyes again as he fucks you - slow and tender at first, but gradually increasing his pace, soon pounding into you with powerful force. The stretch is overwhelming, but his long strokes and perfect tempo have you screaming his name, voluminous cries filling the air as he fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before.

“You’re taking me so well baby,” he praises, his voice low and breathy. “So pretty…”

His voice trails off. High-pitched grunts and groans escape him as his body begins to stiffen, another climax rapidly on its way. He drives his cock into you, your perfect pussy squeezing him so tight that he can't think straight.

“Y/n…” he cries. “Fuck, y/n I'm cumming…”

With several powerful thrusts he releases deep inside you, warm cum filling you up until you're completely full - so full that it begins to leak out of you, coating his cock and dripping all over the sheets. He finishes, laying frozen on top of you, heaving breaths echoing in your ear as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck. His cock rests inside you still, twitching occasionally against your walls. His breathing becomes so steady that you start to think he’s fallen asleep - but eventually he lifts his head, resting his temple on his fist as he takes in the sight of you, so pretty and fucked out beneath him. A lazy smile appears on his face as he stares at you, his pink cheeks glowing in his post-orgasm state. He looks so good that you involuntarily let out a little giggle.

“What?” he asks, his grin growing wider.

“You're just really hot, that's all.”

His face somehow turns even rosier. He lets out an embarrassed tsk as he tries to hide his face in his hands.

“What? You are!!” you proclaim, pulling his hands away so you can see him again.

“Sorry,” he replies timidly. “I’m not good with compliments.”

“You'll get used to it,” you say matter-of-factly. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“You say that like this is going to be a regular thing now,” he retorts, trying to keep a straight face - but the corners of his mouth twitch upward, revealing the grin he's trying to hold back.

“Do you want it to be?” you ask.

Unable to hide his smile any longer, he nods.

“I’d like that.”

Slowly, he pulls his spent cock out of you, making you whine at the empty sensation as even more of his cum spills out of you.

“Wait here,” he says, giving you a soft kiss on your cheek as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

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crookedteethed · 24 days ago

Text

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. eiffel tower me, please.

pairing: rafe x kook!jj x fem! reader

warnings: smut (pinv), language, threesome, oral (m and f receiving), drug usage, a little voyurism (if you squint). porn with little plot (as per usual), dirty talk,

⌞ pt. 2⌝

Rafe's fascination with you took place when he saw you fucking your boyfriend, his best friend, JJ Maybank, in the bushes during a Kook party.

Rafe had been watching you two all night-- he watched as the both of you couldn't keep your hands off of one another--JJ's hand had squeezed your plump ass every chance it got, while your lips always found a spot on his sunkissed skin to smooch whenever the moment was right--so it wasn't a shocker that Rafe was the one to catch you two sneaking off.

For Rafe, it was disgusting seeing you two being all lovey-dovey and shit, yeah, yeah, yeah, Rafe was happy to see his friend happy and whatnot, but secretly, the boy was envious.

I mean, here Rafe was getting the worst neck by Gums McGee while JJ was getting some of the best piece of ass on Kildare Island.

It's not like you were a slut or anything--Rafe really hadn't known if you were the best piece of ass on Kildare, but the way your boyfriend talked about your sex life when you weren't around sure made you sound like you were--and Rafe had wanted to know if the legions about you were true--like the time JJ had claimed you wrapped a fruit roll up around his dick and sucked it--or that time JJ said you simply let him cum inside of you--Rafe had wanted that, Rafe wanted that with you, because you were something Rafe couldn't have.

Rafe doesn't know why he'd followed you and JJ out to the bushes-- He'd stopped getting the worst head he'd ever received to be a peeping tom. But Rafe swears his plan wasn't to be a peeping tom; how could Rafe not be a peeping tom when he suddenly sees your bare heart-shaped ass--your mini skirt bunched around your waist--bouncing on JJ's cock, grappling in the bushes. Your slit was so little and displayed for him--it looked like it could barely take the penetration. Your pretty moans serenaded Rafe's ears--leaving him in a trance, like a mermaid's siren. You were alluring; how could Rafe not be a peeping tom?

When Rafe had found himself sprouting a boner, and quickly taking care of it in his car, he knew he was in some pretty deep fucking shit.

"I have a proposition for you." Rafe had told Jay, going nose first into a line coke--the boys had been slumming it up the next day, drinking beer and watching the box all day in Jay's new condo he'd gotten for his 20th birthday.

Rafe then pushed the coke tray to JJ. "What is it?" he said as he followed in pursuit and did the same as Rafe.

"I get to fuck y/n for one night, in exchange for my dirt bike." Rafe snorted, causing JJ to laugh.

"You fucking kidding me?" Jay said, wiping the white powder underneath his nostrils. JJ continued to laugh until he realized that Rafe hadn't cracked one smile, meaning that Rafe Cameron has finally lost his damn marbles.

"You do realize that's the dumbest fucking proposition ever, man? You're supposed to propose some shit that I can't go out and buy myself." Jay said.

"Last week, you said it yourself!" Rafe rebutted. "You said,' My dirt bike is way cooler than yours' ."

"Dude, that wasn't code for: I want your bike in exchange to fuck my girlfriend."

Rafe had been quiet momentarily, reaching over to JJ for the tray and snorting another line. Rafe had needed to hold his composer because ever since last night, he couldn't get the image of you fucking JJ, and Rafe just needed to see it again, but with his cock barely fitting in your pussy instead.

"Ok, what about this," Rafe said, bringing out his inner businessman. "What if I get to fuck y/n in exchange for my Bently?"

Now Rafe was talking, causing JJ's eyebrow to hitch and ears to perk.

Let's be honest: JJ's father could fund him the money for a new dirt bike if Jay had wanted one. But a new car? Fuck no. Especially since he'd just gotten a new Porsche this January.

JJ would be a fool not to take Rafe's new and improved proposition.

"Well, when you throw a Bently in the mix, you have yourself a deal, brother!" JJ had shouted, already getting revved up from the coke (and the idea of seeing his girlfriend taking another guy's cock.).

"But one thing," JJ continued. "We have to say it's a threesome--make it seem like I'm tryin' to experiment or some shit, because she isn't going to agree to just fucking you alone."

In hindsight, Rafe made a really stupid choice by giving JJ his Bently, but as long as he was able to feel you, he didn't care.

So here you were, standing naked between the two hottest blonds on Kildare Island--supposed to be getting into doggy style to let Rafe Cameron fuck you. At the same time, you suck JJ off, all because your stupidly charming boyfriend wanted to try something new in bed, and you can't say no to him when he uses his puppy dog eyes on you.

But it's not like you weren't totally against the idea--you'd always wanted to know what it was like fucking Kook royalty, Rafe Cameron--you weren't ashamed to admit that.

Of course, a couple of lines of coke was snorted to get rid of all of everyone jitters, but that still didn't' help your nervousness.

JJ had done all the talking--since, to your knowledge, he was the one to set this shindig up. And because you were JJ's good girl and didn't know what else to do, you did everything JJ told you to do.

"Good girl, now let Rafe see your pussy, don't be shy, princess," JJ spoke so kindly to you, stroking your head softly as you choked on his cock.

JJ had been very slowly--but harshly fucking his cock with your throat--ever so often, shoving his length as deep as he could go--until you started to gag--then stilling himself and letting your throat contract--while tears and saliva slid down your face.

You found yourself obeying Jay's words--arching your back more and pushing your ass out to let Rafe view your sopping wet pussy.

"Shit." Rafe cursed, his thump finding your fold and pushing it back to view the inside of your cunt. "Jay this all your's?"

"Ain't she a beaut?" Your boyfriend spoke--talking as if you weren't even here--and pushing his cock further into your mouth.

Your eyes watered as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose, JJ's thick length stretching your esophagus.

You start to feel Rafe's fingers probing at your exposed pussy, spreading your folds and teasing your entrance, sending shivers through your body.

"Damn, she's dripping," Rafe marveled, running his fingers along your slick folds. "You mind if I have a taste, Jay?"

"Be my guest," JJ replied, his voice strained with pleasure. "Our good girl loves to please, don't you, princess?"

You whimpered in agreement around JJ's cock, your hips instinctively pushing back against Rafe's touch. You felt Rafe's hot breath on your sensitive flesh moments before his tongue lapped at your entrance. The new sensation made you moan, the vibrations traveling through JJ's length.

"Fuck, that feels good," JJ groaned, "Do that again to her."

Rafe obliged, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit before plunging it inside you. You cried out again, the sound muffled by JJ's cock. Your whole body was on fire, caught between the two men's ministrations.

JJ's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you bobbed your head. "That's it, take it all," he encouraged.

Meanwhile, Rafe's skilled tongue was rapidly pushing you towards the edge. He alternated between teasing licks and deep thrusts, his strong hands gripping your thighs to hold you in place.

"Fuck, you taste good, sweetheart," Rafe lowly said to you, acknowledging you for the first time as a person, and not like your some dirt bike, and for some reason, you were about to come from this nearly.

"I think our princess is close," Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against your sensitized flesh, his fingers pushing inside you, to feel your cunt convulse. "Should we let her come, JJ?"

"What do you think, sweetheart?" JJ asked, tilting your chin up to meet his, mascara finally beginning to crack, and run down your cheeks, JJ kissed you on the mouth, because, fuck, did you look hot like this.

Rafe had no right to kiss you ( a deal made before you all started, a deal Rafe should respect because JJ is his best friend). JJ's kiss to your mouth only made Rafe more envious of JJ, and Rafe decided to take out his anger on you, claiming you didn't deserve to come yet.

Rafe's fingers slowed their pace, teasing you mercilessly. You whimpered into JJ's mouth, hips bucking desperately against Rafe's hand.

"Not yet," Rafe growled, his voice rough with desire and a hint of jealousy. "You don't get to come until I say so."

JJ broke the kiss, looking down at you with a mixture of lust and amusement. "Looks like Rafe's feeling a bit possessive, sweetheart. Think you can hold out for us?"

You nodded weakly, trembling with need as Rafe's fingers continued their torturous dance. JJ's hands roamed your body, adding to the overwhelming sensations.

"That's our good girl," JJ purred, nipping at your earlobe. "Show us how well you can behave."

Suddenly, you were feeling Rafe's raw wet mushroom tip poking at your entrance--and fuck, did his cock already feel thicker than JJ's.

Your breath hitched as you felt Rafe's impressive length plunge deep inside your cunt—his hands gripping your hips as he slowly bottomed out inside you.

You gasped at the exquisite stretch, your walls clenching around Rafe's thick cock. He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he held himself still, giving you time to adjust.

"Fuck, you're tight," Rafe growled, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

JJ's hands continued their exploration, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other trailed down your stomach. "How does she feel, Rafe? As good as you imagined?"

Rafe responded by slowly withdrawing until just the tip remained inside you, then slamming back in with a powerful thrust that had you crying out in pleasure. JJ swallowed your moans with another deep kiss as Rafe set a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge you weren't allowed to cross.

"Please," you whimpered as you and Jay caught your breaths--your body jerking up from Rafe's hard thrust into JJ's mouth, allowing you to breath the same air as him--right when you think you've caught a break--Jay's cock is back in your mouth, while you received backshots from Rafe.

Your mind reeled from the overwhelming sensations as you were filled from both ends. JJ's thick length slid deeper into your throat with each of Rafe's powerful thrusts from behind. You struggled to focus, torn between the dual pleasures.

Rafe's grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you relentlessly. "Fuck, you're taking us so well," he groaned, his voice husky with desire.

JJ's fingers tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you sucked him eagerly. "That's it, baby," he encouraged. "Just like that."

The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and muffled moans. You felt your arousal building to a fever pitch, your body trembling on the edge of release.

When Rafe's tip found that spongy spot, you made a deep moan in your body that had affected JJ cock, and he found himself cumming in your mouth and on your face.

You were so fucked out of your brain, though, because of Rafe's thick cock; you hadn't noticed when your boyfriend had came, and then left the room, leaving you and Rafe to chase your highs together.

And because Rafe's cock had felt so good in doggy style--you didn't mind seeing how his cock felt when he switched the position to missionary.

Rafe flipped you onto your back with surprising ease, never breaking his relentless rhythm. His dark eyes locked onto yours as he drove deeper, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

From this angle, Rafe could see just how small your slit was in comparison to his cock.

"God, you're incredible," Rafe panted, his muscled chest glistening with sweat. His thumb found your sensitive bundle of nerves, circling in time with his thrusts.

You arched into him, coherent thoughts scattering as the pressure built. "Rafe, I'm so close," you gasped, nails raking down his back.

He growled in response, increasing his pace. "Come for me, beautiful. Let me feel you."

With a cry of ecstasy, your release washed over you in waves. Rafe followed moments later, burying himself to the halt inside of you.

And just as Rafe was cumming, he found himself getting lost in the moment and kissing your rosy red glossy lips, and again, because you were so fucked out, you'd let him.

As the both of you came down from your highs, Rafe lips stayed in motion with yours, his cock still stuffed inside side you--plugging his and your juices in. He shifted slightly, still buried inside you, and you gasped at the sensitivity.

Your body trembled with aftershocks as Rafe's lips moved languidly against yours. The kiss was rough, passionate, yet tender - so different from your boyfriend's soft demeanor. You found yourself melting into it, savoring the unexpected intimacy.

The kiss between you and Rafe could've lasted forever- if only your boyfriend hadn't walked in, asking his best friend why he was kissing his girlfriend, the last person Rafe should be kissing.

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year ago

Text

GUINEA PIG ───

jonathan crane ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I think we most fully understood each other when once I tried to kill him with a kitchen knife.” — ‘South and West’, Joan Didion

pairing. switch!jonathan crane x professor!reader

summary. you and your dear friend, jonathan crane, have an odd relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. one day, you experiment your aphrodisiac on him.

warnings. swearing, use of aphrodisiac & fear toxin, oral sex (m), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, mention of death, murder, drugs, multiple orgasms, slight breeding kink, face fucking, dubcon(?) SMUT UNDER THE CUT!

word count. 6.1k

a/n. the enemies to friends to fucking pipeline is sooo real and i love it. BTW! this is really self indulgent and again, i’m a beginner to writing smut so pls don’t judge😭 the beginning is also oddly plotty, so i apologize for that.

You and your colleague, Jonathan Crane, have a harmonious, albeit slightly sick and twisted, relationship.

Your repertoires, opposite in every way, complete one another like you were made to match. You are messy, frenzied, intimate; he is neat, calculated, distant. He is impatient, histrionic, stubborn. You are tolerant, deadpan, submissive.

This is an odd, good-cop bad-cop dynamic you’ve built, but it works. Your traits uphold the order you’ve built around yourselves; you allow each other to function.

Who ever said something so codependent, so parasitic, would fall apart? That it was dangerous, destructive? Everyone, but in your case, it has been anything but.

These are the simple rules of your relationship: he experiments on you, you experiment on him. This partnership came to bloom when, after years of competing to be the “better” psychology professor at Gotham University, he sent you a gift that sprayed with you with fear toxin, and you baked him a cake that knocked him out for 24 hours following, heart rate so low he could’ve been mistaken as dead.

“Fucking - hell,” You murmured under your breath, stumbling halfway across Gotham City to locate Crane’s absurdly lavish condo in the Diamond District, barely able to keep yourself upright.

You were being visually assaulted by dozens of images, all your phobias no matter big or small, dancing across your senses. Spiders crawled all over your body, you saw yourself about to step off a steep, snowy cliff, you felt yourself suffocate as you were buried to death in a casket. It was utter torture, and you would have to endure it until you found Crane.

You must’ve looked like one of those tweaking drug addicts from down in the Narrows, shivering, sweating, and rubbing all over your body to remove some of the “spiders” taking over your body. The terror was settling into you, into your spine like a terribly malignant disease.

At last, you found the apartment building, blearily snuck in behind a drunk couple, and scanned the mail boxes until you found J. CRANE: 525.

You headed up the elevator, grasping at the walls for dear life, feeling that growing, unmistakable sense of dread start to take over your mind. You felt like you were going mad, now, not just afflicted with something that made you look like it.

When you finally got to his door, it was left open a crack, and you welcomed the small mercy of Crane’s overarching narcissism: he didn’t lock his door, often, because most days he felt more invincible than fucking god.

“Crane!” You shouted, clutching at your head and staggering into his large apartment. “Crane!” you repeated, this time more desperate, more fearful than anything.

However, your deepest fear, at the moment, had come true. You stepped into his kitchen, and found the man laying on the floor unresponsive.

“Fuck me,” you cursed. You’d sent the man home with the cake twelve hours ago, when he took the half-day off from GSU, and you came home from your after-class tutoring hours just moments ago.

You’d opened the mystery package on your front porch promptly, and you found yourself having been gassed with a compound that made you see every little thing you were afraid of. Immediately, you’d known it was Crane; the man’s pet specialty was fear.

As for you, you wanted your… gift, to serve a reminder to him that he should not overstep your boundaries, your territory, as the psychology professor who was there first. If knocking him out was a little bit mad, he was bordering insanity for the toxin he poisoned you with.

Even so, your threat was an empty one. You weren’t counting on the man to even eat the cake - hell, you’d never seen the man consume anything but straight black coffee.

You couldn’t judge a book by its cover, you know now, and laid there on the couch of his apartment, waiting for the twelve hours to be over. Waiting for Crane, the fucking madman, to wake the hell up, blaming him for the predicament despite your very obvious involvement in it.

You breathed in and out, harried and rapid fire as you tried to focus, tried to block out the horrific things you were seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting.

(Your eyes are swarmed, viscerally, by a grotesque hallucination of your family burning to death; you hear them cry out, voices interrupted when they’re fire gets to their lungs; you smell their death, the smell of flesh burning, how the smoke chokes you — you taste their blood on your tongue, how tender a raging fire makes charred flesh.

Tender, you think on your choice of words again, and almost throw up.

What have you done, you think, and what is going through that fucked up head of yours, Crane?)

You tried to ground yourself, tether your lost mind back to Earth. You’re sitting in a field in Northwestern Ireland, you said to yourself, inhaling. Up ahead is the beach; water is crashing on the rocks. You exhaled, the wind tastes like salt, and it is just you and I, here together. It is only I and you, here, together.

Like so, 12 hours passed. Not so much passed — that word gave the connotation the hours slipped past you, the way a peaceful stream of water does; no, more accurately, it dragged by, like when an arm slips out of the ambulance cot on its way to the emergency vehicle, and drags on the concrete. The EMT’s don’t notice what’s making their trip so hard, so slow, until the hand is rubbed raw and bloody.

You repeated that mantra so many times you were starting to get queasy when you thought the words “you’re sitting in a field..” but nonetheless, the string of words kept you sane.

Sane enough, at least - you weren’t sure you’d be the same blissful person you were yesterday. Sure, you were always a little bit… unorthodox? Petty? Competitive enough to bake so many drugs into a cake your opposing professor knocks out?

But, with this — this being drugged by Crane — made you feel a piece of yourself break away. There would be no more of your life lived without knowing how fearful, well, fear, is. It's like discovering the Boogeyman and never being able to stop checking under your bed; the paranoia moves into your head and never leaves.

Crane began stirring, and your eyes opened as soon as you heard the noise. Surprisingly enough, however, you were no longer being hammered with the hallucinations that had been distressing you just half a day ago.

Had it been the mantra? The near-prayer you now swore was etched on your heart?

“Fucking…” Crane said, getting up off the floor. He was clutching his head, eyes squinted, body hunched and tense. Looks like spending half a day on the floor wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep, but you didn’t give a fuck — atleast he was sleeping. If you had to be mentally destroyed by his toxin, you’d best believe you were taking the couch.

“Why - why are you here? What the hell did you do to me?” He said after noticing you, voice raspy. He hadn’t had anything to drink or eat in a while, after all.

“I could say the fucking same for you,” You muttered, giving him a pointed look. “You - what the fuck did you spray me with?”

Immediately, a twisted grin was bared on Crane’s lips, despite his fatigued demeanor. “Did you like it? My fear-toxin,” he preened, like the winning kid at a school science fair.

You rolled your eyes, and before you could control your tendencies, you’d swung back and then socked him straight in the face.

Crane double-backed, looking terribly affronted, as if he hadn’t sent you the gas knowing how it would affect you. “Ow,” is all he said, face contorting oddly around the pain.

“Yeah, “ow”. Fuck you, Crane.”

Crane raised a brow. “You’re acting like you didn’t feed me a poisoned cake!” He said incredulously.

“It wasn’t that poisoned,” you bit out, teeth gritted. “Not so poisoned I was hallucinating my family dying for twelve hours straight.”

“Ah, thanatophobia, not really one of my favourites—“ Crane started, like he was losing himself in a romantic daydream, before snapping back to reality. “Did you just say twelve hours?”

“Twelve hours for me. Twenty-four for you.” You said, reveling in how panicked he looked.

“I — that’s long enough for me to be killed a hundred times over,” he mumbled under his breath. “What the fuck did you put in that cake?”

“I never expected you to eat it, Crane. You’re fucking skin and bones, I thought you’d just throw it out.”

“What did you put in the cake?” he repeated.

“Ugh,” you sunk into the couch, “some amytal, zolpidem. Some melatonin. I didn’t measure, okay, and again, I wasn’t counting on you eating it.” You didn’t know why you had this urging feeling to respond to him, to humor his jabs, his dumb fucking theatrics, but you did anyway.

“Some amytal? Some zolpidem? Some melatonin? Jesus fucking christ - is that what you wanted? To kill me?” He was leaning down, face inches away from yours now.

You pushed him away, disgust on your features clear as day. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not some sociopathic fear-freak like you, Crane. I don’t mix compounds in my creepy little office with the thought of drugging out my fellow professor in mind. It was just an empty threat.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “Mixing barbiturates and medications into a cake sounds like an empty threat to you?”

“You know what?” You said brightly, getting up off the couch, “I don’t have to argue with you. I came to get my cure, woke up having cured myself.” Then, you burst out the door, fury rolling off you in waves, and you left.

There was something about the incident, however, that seemed to intrigue Crane to no end. Soon enough, he began entering your office during your breaks, asking to have a chat. Or, he’d walk in during your lessons, forcing you two in the hall alone. Sometimes, he’d even wait for you after school, dozing off in front of your classroom and waiting for you to exit your office.

You couldn’t tell what was making Crane so interested, but he was hanging off you and your every word like some lovesick puppy.

You, on the other hand, also couldn’t get Crane out of your head. Certainly not for some weird, fucked up reason like his, but because of what he had created. A lot of people doubted his intelligence, mostly because of his obsession on things nobody really cared about, but that obsession made way to the destructive fear-toxin you’d inhaled, and it was seriously unlike anything you’d ever experienced, hell, even read about. It was a brand new creation, and downright deadly.

Your interest in the man was more so on… keeping him in check. As rivals did. But his was on how you’d breezed past the effects of his toxin in just twelve hours. He’s expected you to go half mad, honestly. Your threat was empty… his was, decidedly, not.

By the end of the next week following the incident, you two began eating lunch together, asking for joint classes, and spending nights over at each other's places. Not in that way, of course — your way was like a group of scientists having a forever eureka, because your minds fit like perfect puzzle pieces.

Your intrigue had met his intrigue, and it felt natural, coming to a united front like that. You found you had more in common than you thought, something you should’ve found out about a long time ago, 3 ½ years kind of long time ago. Apart, you two were volatile; angry, spewing threats, attempting murder on the other. Together, however, you were absolute perfection: productive, well-mannered, motivated.

Now, fast-forward coming on two years since the incident. You and Crane - now, Jonathan, have been inseparable since that time. You two were close, closer than siblings or children and parents or couples; you felt like the same person that had been split into two. Being together was the only thing that felt right, being back at the origin, like being at home.

Fuck’s sakes, you did have the same home — you’d moved in together. Not to his, nor yours, but to a big house you bought on the outskirts of Gotham, with a big yard and an even bigger lab in the basement. It was like a scientist's amusement park.

Maybe it - this relationship of yours - was codependency. But maybe it was utter genius: your careers had both never seen so many accomplishments until you and Jonathan came together. Partly because you had a greater inspiration when coupled with the other, but, mostly because you had a body to test on during preliminary trials.

Creating things, like the fear-toxin, required human testing, and finding a way to get that done always slowed Jonathan down. Since finding you, however, it’d been a breeze.

You offered yourself up readily, given Jonathan would do the same. And, besides, Jonathan had never been worried about you and his toxin very much — after that first time you took the toxin, you could easily find yourself out of its effects. You were the only person he’d ever encountered who could do this, and it was downright fascinating. He wanted to keep you, see how that strong little mind of yours worked overtime to fight his toxin off.

You, on the other hand, rarely tested anything like that on Jonathan. Your interests lied elsewhere: what smells activate the human mind to recall memories, what are ways to accurately fight off drugs like GHB — all mental stimulation.

That, however, changed one evening, when you had been brewing up a serum for the past few weeks. You’d gotten to the point in creation where you needed to test on someone, and observe the effects.

“Jonathan,” you called out, looking down at your notes. The man in question was grading assignments for the psychology class you taught — now, in joint lessons more often than not — sitting at a desk a few metres away from you in the lab.

“Jonathan!” you repeated louder this time, looking up from your notes.

“What?” He shouted back, still hunched over on the ungodly amount of assignments he needed to mark.

“Come here. I need to test something on you.” You said, nonchalant.

That, however, piqued Jonathan’s interest to no end: you hadn’t tested anything on him in nearly a year. It hurt, a little, to test you endlessly and have nothing to give in return - so this, no matter what it was, Jonathan would take in stride.

Jonathan nodded vehemently, “Okay.” He then dropped all he’d been doing on the desk and made his way over, before sitting in the chair next to you. You made quick work, tying his arms and legs to the chair like he’d done to you so many times before. He watched you work, completely enraptured in how you looked while experimenting.

“So,” He said, tearing his sticky gaze off of you, “what’re you pumping me full of?”

You sat back in your desk chair and scratched your cheek, a little unsure how to say this. “Well, I created a serum that, once injected, would lower or lose all inhibitions of the victim. They’d be completely malleable, agreeable, if you just, um,” you fanned yourself, feeling a little too close to the man in front of you, room feeling incredibly warm.

“Just what?” He pried, leaning back in his chair.

You exhaled shakily, “if you just promise to - to provide relief to them. Sexual - relief.”

Jonathan let out an incredulous laugh. “You made a working aphrodisiac?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t exactly — I don’t even know if it works, for sure. If you don’t want to- take it, then you don’t have to.” You offered up weakly.

“How d’you get it out of the system?” He said instead, ignoring your words and picking up the needle you had ready for him on your worktable, which was filled with a thick, pink liquid.

You flushed. “You, um, help the victim relieve themselves, until the feeling is gone.”

Jonathan looked up at you, a sly smirk on his lips. “And you were going to give this to me?”

You turned away, face red, exasperated. “I told you, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

“And let you pleasure some random guy you snatched off the street? No way,” he said, before you heard a familiar prick, small whine leaving Jonathan’s mouth.

You spun back around so fast you thought you got whiplash. “Jonathan, wait—“ you said, alarmed. You were really, seriously, considering not giving the aphrodisiac to him — it would disrupt the careful balance you and he had built over the past years.

You were afraid that if he took the serum, and let you, for lack of a better word, get him off, you wouldn’t be able to look at him without remembering him needy, hot and bothered, calling your name out like it was the only word he knew.

He’d done it anyway, though. And now, you both just had to get through this… experiment.

Quickly, you grabbed your pen and notebook, ready to approach this scenario as detached and clinically as possible, ignoring the pulsing need in your insides as you saw Jonathan’s face slowly contort into a warm, heavy-lidded lustful one.

“How do you feel, Jonathan?” You said, standing further away from him so he couldn’t so much as feel your body heat on him.

“I…” Jonathan blinked rapidly, licking his lips, looking you up and down. “Warm. I just feel… warm.” He readjusted in the seat, unable to sit still. “And - kind of, tingly? Like I - well, I don’t know…”

You noted his words, as well as some of your own observations: his pupils were dilated, so much so the crystalline blue of his eyes were merely slivers, his lips were pursed, plump, and he was pink all over; pink cheeks, pink ears, pink neck. He was talkative, loose-lipped and a little out of it.

You inhaled, then exhaled, before starting the next phase of the experiment. “Jonathan, how do you feel when I touch you here?” You said, raising the back of your hand to caress his cheek.

Jonathan was affected almost immediately, eyes shutting tight. “It feels,” he said breathily, leaning into your touch, “ah… nice. Good.”

You nodded, promptly pulling away as soon as he’d finished his sentence. Subject enjoys physical touch. Jonathan then peered up at you, looking slightly… disappointed?

You shook yourself, getting back on task. “How do you feel now?” You pried, noticing he looked far more affected than before.

Beads of sweat were dripping from his forehead, making his wavy brown hair stick to his skin. He was breathing heavily, and, when you had touched him, he was extremely warm, like he had a fever.

“I’m, I…” Jonathan trailed off, eyes shutting, shaking his head. “Mmm… my head feels — fuzzy,” he bit out raspily.

“Okay. Good. It's exactly as I thought,” you murmured, continuing to scratch down notes.

You ignored him for a few minutes, writing up a list of side effects and observed results of the aphrodisiac. Then, your gaze drew back to him, who had been focussing intently on you the whole time.

“Jonathan?” you called out quietly, seeing his dazed expression. “Talk to me.”

Jonathan shuddered, leaning forward in the chair, head hanging low, “My - my body’s, hnngh… it feels— feels weird.” He bit his lip, face screwed up and tense. “I’m warm all over…”

His shoulders were hunched in, and he was trembling. You lifted a hand up to his head, petting him softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Ah…” Jonathan squeaked out at your touch, face going slack, “I feel like I need you to - to…” he sighed exasperatedly, “I need you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek conflictedly. On one hand, you needed to finish up a few more tests, meaning Jonathan would be teased - or tortured, depending on how fast the aphrodisiac was affecting him - a little longer. On the other hand, he was already a breathy mess, begging for your touch. For you.

“Fuck,” you murmured, turning away from the man who’s eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head at the way you tugged at his locks. “No, no,” you fought your internal struggle. You would not give in to his pleas - you would finish this experiment.

“Okay. Okay.” you said to no-one but yourself, extracting your hand from his velvet soft hair. “Let’s be professional about this. Jonathan, I’m going to take your clothes off, but you can’t move, and you can’t touch me, okay?”

Jonathan’s breathing became more labored as you spoke, and you swore you could see desperate tears filling his eyes. “I can’t- I can’t touch you? But… but why not?” He was practically whining for you.

“Because, Jonathan, it wouldn’t be beneficial to the experiment.” You didn’t look your partner in the eye, because his complete and total change in behavior had you feeling, quite frankly, as warm as him.

You continued by undoing the restraints on his arms and legs, and his sharp intakes of breath as your fingers brushed past his skin didn’t slip past you. Not at all.

Firstly, you undid the man’s white button-up shirt slipping it past his flushed torso. Jonathan’s skin was actually pink and warm all over, and he was breathing heavily now, gripping the chair so tight his knuckles were white.

“Are you okay, Jonathan?” you asked absently, as you began unbuckling his belt and slipping down his fly.

Jonathan’s breath hitched in his throat, and he didn’t answer you, biting down on his lower lip to stop any desperate moans from escaping him.

You finally finished undressing your partner, then redid his restraints, before you stepped back to see him fully. Jonathan was shivering, faint tear tracks on his pink cheeks, head cocked back.

“It’s just - one, or two more tests, Jonathan.” You murmured quietly, kneeling down in front of him.

Your hands pressed flat on his thighs, rubbing him up and down, grazing your fingers lightly on his feverish skin. You had to regularly ground yourself, stop yourself from inching up to the poor, untouched tent in his boxer shorts.

Above you, you could hear Jonathan let out a low groan, “Ah, hnng— please,” he called out to no-one in particular.

“Does that - feel good, Jonathan?” You ask, getting back up on your feet. His desperate groans were getting to you now, how needy his little keens were.

“So - good,” he panted. “Your— you, I want— need, I need…” he trailed off, babbling, lost to the pleasure of your touch.

“Jonathan, if I… touched you more, would you do anything for me?” You said finally. The invention of the aphrodisiac was intended to sway someone's motivations, make them bend to your will. Sure, there was that added sexual aspect, but it was created with less… pleasurable intentions.

“Anything, anything at all,” he said deliriously, rolling his head around. “Jus’… just need you to- touch me.”

“Would you give yourself fear-toxin, Jonathan?”

“Yes! Yes, just — please… please! Stop asking me— questions… I need you so fucking bad, ah…”

“Jesus,” you said. Your aphrodisiac was stronger than you thought. You were satisfied, however, with the results of it. The first trial was a success, and you saw how you could use this on anyone - even people in particular positions of power, and get them to do your bidding. Quite helpful, indeed.

Now, you needed to… get Jonathan out of this state. By, ah, relieving him.

You had decided to do this, to test him, so you had to be responsible and help ease him out of this experiment. Quickly, you stripped your own clothing, even your underwear, before undoing the restraints on his arms and legs.

Jonathan’s eyes widened as he watched you undress. “Are you - are you… gonna t—touch me? Now? Please?” He practically begged, almost drooling at the sight of your naked body.

“Mhm,” you said, a tremble in your voice. “Gon’ help you get out of this.”

Then, you climbed onto Jonathan’s lap, shutting your eyes as you felt his hard cock within his boxer shorts slide between your legs deliciously.

He let out a guttural groan as your weight pressed down on him, feeling your wetness soak his shorts. That measly piece of fabric was all that was keeping him from entering your plush, velvet folds, and he was going practically insane at the feeling.

“M’god,” Jonathan whined out, leaning his sweaty head on your shoulder. “Y’feel so, a—ah, good…”

You couldn’t help the breezy laugh that made its way out of you. “I haven’t even touched you yet, Jonathan, and you’re already so worked up,” you whispered in his ear, hot breath fanning on his warm skin.

“P-pleeeease,” He begged, slowly grinding into you. Jonathan was barely coherent, mind just focussed on chasing the release he so desperately needed.

You raised a brow, but complied, slipping your warm hands down his boxer shorts and pulling his thick length out. You pumped him lazy, feeling how he writhed under you, tasteful whimpers slipping out of his mouth.

After another second of you stroking him lightly, your thumb grazing past the tip and collected a decent amount of precum, he actually did come, wet hot load spurting upwards on his chest and your face. “Ah - hnngh, oh my — oh my god,” he drooled, jutting into your hand.

It dripped down from your cheek onto your lips, and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut, losing himself in the pleasure. You swiped a handful of his cream off your face, before covering his still hard, curved cock with it.

“You’re not done, aren’t you?” You said to him quietly, his hips stuttering as you artfully smeared his come on himself. Jonathan was arching into your touch, completely putty in your hands.

“Nuh- no, m’still— still need you, need you so bad.” he whimpered shamefully, hands stuck to your waist.

“Look at you go,” you found yourself cooing, dragging a creamy hand down his equally as creamy chest, your fingernails grazing him. “Let me take care of you.”

Then, you lifted yourself up off his lap, and carefully situated your slit on the tip of his head. “Christ,” you called out as you slid down, “you’re fucking big,”

Inch by inch, you took him, and Jonathan’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head, a string of senseless groans and whines leaving his mouth. “Feels so warm, so so warm,” he choked out at last, looking at you adoringly.

You started to lift out of him, your cunt stinging slightly at the sheer size of his cock, when you felt a heated liquid shoot through you, Jonathan’s knees buckling under your ass.

He’d come, again, even before you could get started. You shook your head incredulously at the terribly horny man beneath you, eyes glazed over in the pure ecstasy he was feeling.

“Stop, fucking — coming,” you scolded, bottoming his cock into you once more, “you’re gonna get me so — ah— fucking - pregnant if you keep coming.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan said sheepishly, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “Can’t help it— you feel so — hnngh — feel so good.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, then focussed on getting a good pace of sliding in and out, your hips rolling deeper and deeper into his own. You were bouncing quickly on his cock, dick-riding him like you’d never done before.

With all other sexual partners you had, they wanted to be all vanilla, always just missionary, going slow until they were close, no sense of creativity or any other wishes that just feeling you. With Jonathan - especially in the state he was in now - you could do whatever you wanted, as long as his cock was in your cunt.

“Good — god,” you screamed out, when Jonathan suddenly gained control over himself and snapped into you, rough hands pinching the flesh of your hips. He rutted into you, hard and fast, for a moment like that continually, before his control melted once more into nothingness, and all he could do was let you take the reins.

“Please— how’re you so — ah, how does your pussy feel so good…” he murmured, trailing off into a high-pitched moan when you pulled out, then just as fast sunk down on him.

Jonathan’s fingers trailed up your body, rubbing at your soft flesh, before they found your breasts, kneading you tenderly. He chanced several licks on both your erect nipples, and you shuddered, tightening around him. Your cunt was sucking him in, devouring his length no matter how big he was, and he could feel how his length was stretching your walls wide open.

“So fucking big.” You panted, arms wrapping around his neck, “fat fucking cock all needy, just me.”

“Jus’… just for you! All - ah, all for you,” Jonathan repeated with a squeak, lips bitten delicately between his teeth.

Your hands trailed all over his body, and as the pleasure was getting to you, making your head dizzy and your thoughts foggy, you bounced down on him and your nails scratched up his back, surely leaving small wounds.

This miniscule amount of pain seemed to amplify Jonathan’s endless pleasure, and you could feel him pumping you full of his come once again, the tip of his dick pressed flush against your cervix. His come made you feel so full, fuller than you already did with his monstrous cock nestled into you, continually rubbing up on the toe-curlingly spongy spot in your cunt every time you pushed him back in.

“Mmf,” Jonathan groaned, pleasure muffling whatever he was was going to say, “m’gonna… gonna get you pregnant,”

“Yeah?” You breathed out, squeezing your eyes shut, “Is that what this needy cock wants? To get my wet cunt full and me pregnant?”

“Yes, yes, hnngh, please, wanna come - wanna come more,” Jonathan cried out.

“‘kay, okay,” you nodded vehemently, “then make this pussy feel good.”

Then, you slid out with a whimper, two loads worth of come spilling out of your worn-out cunt, turning around so your ass would face him, before you sunk back down on him. You were chasing your own pleasure now, the unmistakable feeling rumbling within your lower stomach.

Jonathan was completely fucked out, just a shaking, hot and bothered mess on the sticky wooden chair you’d both occupied, but he still welcomed your warm pussy back on him with open arms. Your folds beat any other cunt he’d ever been in, and he knew nothing, not even his own hand, could match up to how addicting you were, how delectably you took him.

The new angle had you reeling, your hands gripping Jonathan’s thighs for some much-needed support. You were buckling, getting weaker with every bounce, but were still desperate for release. It affected Jonathan too, and he was pressing his face up against your hair, biting down lightly on your shoulder to collect himself despite the earth-shattering pleasure you were inflicting on him.

Your fleshy cunt met his rock-solid cock every moment perfectly, and soon enough your back was arching, head leaning back on Jonathan’s shoulder. That knot in your stomach was tightening, a fire burning within you and begging you not to stop.

Jonathan’s needy hands were coursing all over your body, rubbing on you in all the right places, and when his calloused fingers began pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples, you saw white. That burning feeling dragged across your entire body, your jaw tensing, and you felt positively fuzzy, pure pleasure destroying all coherent thoughts you’d been having, your mind now focussed on the insane way he made you orgasm.

There was nothing that could compare to how you felt now, this being the hardest you’d orgasmed in your entire life. There was just something about Jonathan — be it how unbelievably big he was, or perhaps the odd tension that surrounded you two for the past few years — that made this experience ten times, no, a hundred times, better.

It was like his dick had been artfully crafted to stretch you out and stuff you full; that thick cock, made just for you.

In place of your weakening strength, Jonathan kept his hand tweaking your breast, and his other hand gripped your hip tightly, helping you bounce up and down on his cock. Thus, the pleasure was maximized by his touch, and you rode out your high like that for a few more long moments.

You stayed there, on his lap panting and drooling, for a few more seconds, before you climbed off of him, grimacing at the loss of his sweet cock in you.

You stood shakily, feeling his come ooze out of your sticky hole, and you were surprised to see that Jonathan was still hard. He was panting, head leaning against the chair, hands and legs trembling, but his dick could probably still pump out another round of come.

You did always wondering how he’d taste, and after seeing how long and thick he was, you wanted to know if his dick could make you cry, too. So, you kneeled down on the cold floor, pulling him by the ankles a little further off the chair, so you could get better access to him, and buried your pretty little head between his shaking thighs.

“What’re you— doing?” Jonathan said blearily, but before he could continue, your soft lips wrapped around him, and your tongue began artfully swiveling his sensitive head.

The loudest moan you’d heard so far was drawn out of Jonathan, and more, similar noises came out of him. It was nonsensical, and unintelligible, but you could tell he was having the time of his life — as if he hadn’t just orgasmed three times prior.

You started slowly, mouth taking his cock until you felt like you couldn’t anymore, before forcing past that point and making yourself take him to the back of your throat. Tears lined the rims of your eyes, your head swimming from lack of oxygen, but you couldn’t help how badly you wanted to hear him whimper and whine out from how good you were servicing him, his pretty groans reaching your ears like music.

You pulled his cock out of your mouth when you felt like you were going to pass out, and then you began lapping up at his cock, sucking and curving your tongue around his long length. You sucked him hard and fast, and then, his hands grappled at your hair.

At this point, you believed the aphrodisiac was wearing off, and Jonathan, now a little more clearheaded, began face fucking you, filling your sweet mouth full with his filthy cock. He couldn’t resist doing so, especially with you looking up at him through your tear-stained lashes, hollowing out your cheeks and gripping his thighs like your life depended on it.

You gagged on him, several times, but he didn’t care, and with a jolted thrust past your swollen lips, he came, squirting all he had left down your throat. You sucked and swallowed every drop of him into your mouth, loving the taste of his salty liquid.

Now, you were both fucked out, beyond tired, the strain on your muscles settling in. Your core had been properly exercised, what with how many times you rutted into Jonathan, and he, similarly, had a strained back with how much he arched into your touch, his aphrodisiac-clouded mind wanting nothing more but to be touched by you.

“Good god, woman,” Jonathan said, collapsing into the wooden chair, which was sticky with sweat, come and your cunt’s soaking wetness. “You could’ve just said you wanted to fuck,”

You panted, dropping down onto the cold floor beneath you and wincing. “We’re — we were, just friends.”

He waved away your words, “We live together, darling. Not quite sure if that's “just” friends.”

You looked up at him, before laughing agreeably. “Felt good though, didn’t it?” A smug grin made its way on your lips, remembering how submissive Jonathan had been, how desperate he’d been just for the slightest bit of touch.

“Amazing,” he said exasperatedly. “But next time, you’re not topping.”

“Next time, huh?” You said brightly, shakily getting up. Jonathan helped you, both of you limping exhaustedly up the stairs to your actual house, where you really should’ve been fucking, instead of the clinical environment of your large basement lab.

Jonathan’s hands found your ass, pulling you flush against him and kneading the flesh roughly. “Why not? Don’t you wanna know how I fuck?” he whispered suggestively into your ear, nibbling at the lobe.

“I think, you’ve still got some aphrodisiac in you, Jon.” you said, laughing breezily.

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #batman #sub!jonathan crane #sub!jonathan crane x reader

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clovdgyu · 3 months ago

Text

requested

#sylus x m!reader #smut #sylus is currently my third priority in lnd (last being xavier because i don't have any solar pairsg bfor him. still love this bb boy tho)

#pet namees (sylus calls reader doll, baby boy, and kitten), breeding kink, fingering, unprotected sex, kinky sex, sylus loves seeing you in your pjs, took place after a year and a few months

#being the cutest, most handsome, and kindest boyfriend of your university's crush, it seems you have a lot to handle at once but especially his sex drive

you looked at the entirety of his condo unit and it was surprisingly huge! well, i guess that's a given seeing how your tall boyfriend is practically towering over you. "your place is nice," you stated before he wrapped his arms around you from behind, hugging you.

"our place is nice. this is where we'll be staying from now on. you don't have to pay rent, no anything. just sit there and look pretty, baby," he told you, the pet name making your cheeks warm as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

it's already been a year and a half when you and sylus started dating, experiencing various ups and downs but stayed together through all of it. one thing you did notice about sylus was that he was unexpectedly clingy and protective.

you never complained though, you loved seeing his vulnerable side. but another thing is, you noticed how he was holding himself back when he was with you. sure, he was clingy, but it just seemed new to you. everytime you initiated any means of physical touch, he slowly backs away.

you know he isn't uncomfortable when it comes to you, but it seemed that he was keeping himself in the "right state of mind" every time you initiated a kiss or any kinds of affection.

back to the present, you sighed and backed away from him, crossing your arms as you looked him dead in the eyes, making sylus confused. "sylus, are you holding yourself back because of me?"

"what? no," he answered a little too fast, a little too suspicious. you smiled at him and held onto his biceps, comforting him. he sighed, "i just don't want you to get the impression that all i ever think about is sex. i was just worried that you might hate it."

a scoff left your mouth as you cupped the taller man's cheeks with your hands. "sounds reasonable enough. but you don't have to hold yourself back, you can ask me when you want to do it. but no means no, alright?"

smirking, sylus used his thumb and index, holding onto your chin and raised it. "well, i am kind of in need of some pleasure right now, doll. do you consent?"

a simple nod from you was all it takes for sylus to finally give in to his desires.

"do i have to do it in my pyjamas, sylus?" you asked the other male who was already laid on your shared bed in just his boxers. you sat on the bed and the other male was obviously smirking as he eyed you from head to toe. "q-quit doing that."

sylus sat up and neared you, one hand supporting his weight behind you. "you just look so cute in those pink pjs, kitten. can't help it."

"you're really—"

you were not able to finish your sentence since as soon as you've opened your mouth, sylus attacked your lips with his. it was surprising for you to say the least as you never had any experience with kissing. you didn't complain though.

if anything, you closed your eyes in satisfaction as you held onto sylus' broad shoulders to try and deepen the kiss. at first you both stayed there, lips connected to each other to bask in the warmth of each other's mouths.

deciding to take the initiative, you slowly detached your lips from him before kissing him back in a torrid kiss, moving your lips in a sensual manner.

a dry chuckle left sylus' mouth at how eager you were before he finally kissed back with the same tempo. the silver-haired male moved his lips rhytmically with yours, small kissing sounds emitting from your lips. slowly, sylus pushed you down the bed, not breaking away from the kiss.

wanting even more, you guided your hands towards your boyfriend's silver hair and softly gripped on it, pulling him closer towards you, letting out a small squeal when his knee slightly brushed on your crotch.

sylus removed his lips from yours, trailing kisses down your neck to your collar bone as he looked up at you, your eyes half-lidded whilst small whimpers left your plump lips. "s-sylus.."

"what's wrong, kitten? you need something?" he asked with a sly smirk, going back to what he was doing. slowly, he undid the buttons on your pyjama shirt, making your cheeks heat up at the thought of showing him your torso. "don't be scared, kitten. I got you," he stated, as if he heard your thoughts.

you nodded as a response, sylus finally done undoing your buttons. "sylus," you called out in a sweet voice to which the said male hummed to, fingers trailing down towards your pants' waistband. he removed his lips from your body and harshly discarded your pyjama pants, making you gasp. "sylus! oh my god.."

the said male stared at your half-clothed body, admiring your seductive and soft stature. "you look so delectable, m/n. i never even thought would ever come," he stated with a teasing smirk, leaning down to places kisses down your stomach.

without even a warning, sylus grabbed the waistpand of your pants behind you and pulled it back, just enough to expose your ass.

you gasped at the sudden rush of coldness before he inserted a finger into your hole, making you yelp before you bit your lips to silence your screams. "s-sylus, oh fuck!"

"hearing you cuss like that is making me hot. why do you do it so politely? you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" sylus teased before he began to thrust his finger inside your hole, inserting another one to fully stretch your hole, doing scissoring motions to prepare you for his meaty cock.

a sudden scream came out from your lips, cutting you out of your thoughts. "oh my god! that felt so weird, sy. fu—you keep hitting it!" you shouted, making sylus 'tsk' as he moved up and placed a hand over your mouth to silence you. smirking, he slowly moved his fingers into your hole, seeing your eyes twitch as he neared that certain spot.

stopping, he tapped on your g-spot, making you whimper as you gripped on the sheets beneath you. finding it amusing, he pressed onto it harshly, making you gasp as you folded your legs. your eyes were closed at the pleasure before sylus' eyes darkened and constantly pressed on it as if it were a remote control's "return" button.

you had no choice but to let out muffled moans, your own cock twitching on your stomach a bit leaked pre-cum. "sylus, no...stop. it feels so good, it's bad," you stated, holding out a shaky hand to remove his finger but it was no use. you barely had any strength left because of the constant abuse on your prostate.

tears left your eyes as whimpers and ragged breaths exited your mouth, altough muffled. "i can't stop, kitten. if i do, wouldn't that be hard for you to take my big cock? now be a good boy and behave," sylus stated as he removed his fingers from your g-spot and began to properly stretch your ass out. "besides, aren't you the one who's pushing their own ass onto my fingers? what a pervert."

"th-then, please hurry up," your big doe eyes looked up at him with plea, the face you had on only making it hard for him to stop. it was always how you looked naturally cute with whatever you do that he would find his own pants get tighter, so having to see it so close is such a great experience.

sylus let out a deep chuckle leaving you feeling confused as he stopped his fingers from ever reaching the depths of your hole. "seriously..." he muttered, slowly pulling out his fingers that got him small whimpers from you, the noise going straight to his cock feeling it twitch in his underwear.

"whatever happens tonight," sylus rasped out, moving closer to you to give you a small shiver as he whispered into your ears. "it'll all be your fault, kitten," you felt yourself losing all the strength you had left in you, an unconscious moan moving past your lips. somehow, the way he calls you kitten just sent something inside you to tingle.

"you don't know how much i've waited to do this to you, m/n. hearing you moan my name in your sleep the last time you came over, i just couldn't wait any longer."

upon his revelation, you felt your cheeks get warm due to the embarrasment. "it wasn't intentional, sylus. I was having a dream...a wet dream that you were fucking my ass nonstop until my legs were nothing but weak," you explained, sighing as the taller male trailed his right hand from your legs towards your chest, his touches making you shiver. "sylus."

"quiet."

you heard how his' breath became raspy as he suddenly began to grind his hard-on onto your exposed cock. "oh my god...sylus," you moaned out, and before you could even comprehend things, he pulled back and dragged you with him, catching you by surprise.

smirking, sylus held you up with ease before you've found yourself on all fours. you were just about to go back up but his sudden weight on your back had you struggling. "kitten, don't fight it."

it's that nickname again. you thought. "b-but this position looks so odd. will—AH!"

a sudden scream erupted from your throat as you felt the tip of sylus' cock suddenly enter your hole unannounced. knowing that he needed to shut you up, he placed his left hand over your mouth as he neared his lips towards your left ear. "as much as i love to hear the noises you make, the walls here are thin."

you could only nod as you tried to adjust his bulbous cockhead. "you're so big, sy. i can feel it stretch me out fully," you stated, although whispered and muffled through the other male's hand.

feeling successful, sylus could only smirk as he felt his chest swell with pride at the thought of the mess he will make of you. he was the sweetest person you could ever meet in your whole entire life. kind and caring, but once you resort into submission, especially to him, there is no way the male would miss out the opportunity to take advantage of it and completely show you his dominance. "that's good to hear, kitten," sylus whispers again into your ears, sending shivers down your spine, feeling your own member twitch at the action.

sylus, then starts littering kisses onto your neck, leaving love bites in the process to show others that you are his prized possession. a silent moan leaves your lips at the contact of his plump lips on your skin. truth be told, just as much as sylus, you have waited for this time to arrive.

before, it was all just happening in your head, but now, you're literally about to get dicked down by the one and only sylus who, for a fact, is your boyfriend, lover, and partner.

you knew that on your first day at sylus' condo that those secret glances and tantalizing stares during your visits were something. you knew that the few times he purposely showed you his thick bulge through his jagger pants without any underwear, his tip poking through the fabric meant something and not just 'to feel more comfortable' as he always would reason to you.

"i'll start pushing, m/n," sylus, in between his kisses, informed you to mentally prepare you for his thick rod, you gasping when he roughly pushed his cock in you as you turned to look back at him with a pained expression, the other male caressing your arms before pushing his cock in fully.

"gh!" you coughed, sylus stopping his movements as he grabbed you by the waist out of panic. "fuck..you're too huge, sylus."

the other male smirked before he gritted his teeth, covering your mouth with his right hand before pushing all of his length with a silent grunt. your eyes grew impossibly wide as a scream emitted from your mouth, not out of pain but not out of pleasure as well. somewhere in between.

this was your first time and you could feel every inch of his cock brush against your walls, his thick cock stretching your ass out which made you clench the sheets. sylus hummed at the tightness of your hole, tears trailing down your eyes as you hung your head low. "how does my cock feel, kitten?" sylus asked as he leaned closer to your ear.

a small whimper erupted from your lips as he slowly pulled out until the tip was the only thing inside you, making you clench around his cock needily, pushing your hips back as you looked back with teary eyes. "what..? s-sylus, please—"

all of a sudden, the older male thrusted his cock inside your hole in one go, making you yelp as you arched your back, satisfying sylus who could only chuckle darkly before he was thrusting slowly inside your hole. "shit, your ass feels so good, kitten. i'm finally able to do this. fuck."

small whimpers left your lips everytime sylus pulled out, then back in. wet, squelching sounds originated from your connected parts before he gave another powerful thrust, this time hitting your prostate head on.

"agh!" you screamed out. fortunately, sylus managed to muffle it with his hand. "s-sylus. oh my god...feels good."

"do you seriously want to wake everyone up? you pervert," he degraded, giving your ass a loud slap before he pulled his cock out and placed his hand on your throat to pull you back towards him, thrusting as soon as you two were now kneeling together.

sylus was fast enough to react by attacking your lips with a passionate kiss to silence your screams. you curled your toes in pleasure, eyes closed as you did nothing but choked out moans.

he swallowed every noise that emitted from your lips as your own cock twitched every time the other male subtly thrusted into your tight heat. you felt his tongue swipe along the bottom of your lips, making you open your mouth obediently. the silver-haired male sucked your tongue and swirled his own onto yours.

your lips moved in sync, sylus thrusting experimentally. once he heard a muffled whimper, he of his wits went out the window as he began to thrust into your hole at a normal pace, his hands trailing from your inner thighs, to your crotch, then up your stomach, landing on your chest. "sylus," you called out, your hands finding their way on his arm.

he hummed as he thrusted his cock into your hole at a pace you could bare, small whimpers and moans exiting your lips as your ass hit his hips, wet noises bouncing across the room. the other male could feel your whole body tremble and shake, deciding to fasten his pace with a low groan.

the fast pace has you biting your lip, throwing your head back as scratched your nails on his arms. that familiar coil in your stomach appeared again, pushing your hips back onto his to chase your own high.

"fuck, you gonna cum, kitten?" he asked, you nodding eagerly in response as he began to pound your hole mercilessly, making you moan out loudly. "you really want to wake them up, huh? want them to hear how much of a mess I've made of you? want them to hear how good i'm making you feel?"

not stopping his animalistic pace, sylus focused on giving you the pleasure that you deserve. all you could do was moan wantonly, body squirming as you felt your cock twitch, pre-cum "i'm...i'm gonna—ahhh! s-sylus!"

sylus began to nip at your neck, sucking every once in a while to leave purplish-pink hickeys that would surely be hard to hide even with make-up.

your own breath became ragged, his thrusts going even faster as he chased his own high, making you scream out in pure bliss every time the tip of his cock brushed against your prostate. "fuck, your hole feels so good. does my cock feel good, kitten? my cock makes you feel this good," he clarified before you felt his cock grow inside you, indicating that he was near his climax.

you clenched your hole against his cock, pushing your hips onto his to chase your own high before you let out one particular choked gasp, throwing your head back, eyes rolled back in pleasure as thick ropes of white squirted from your cock, falling onto the bed's white sheets. sylus continued to thrust inside your hole, finding his own release.

the pleasure made your whole body shake as you dug your nails onto the other male's strong arms. "fuck, fuck! i'm gonna cum!" he announced as he threw his head back, holding your waist tightly that it would surely leave bruises. "fuckfuckfuck! oh fuck, i'm cumming!"

you felt his cum paint your walls white, making you groan as you hold onto his biceps. he stayed in that position, cock buried deep inside you as he came a lot, some of it dripping down your hole. an idea popped inside his head. he continued to thrust inside your hole to fuck his cum into you, making you whimper at the overstimulation. "s-slow down, wait."

"i'm sorry, m/n."

"what part of 'no means no' did you not get, sylus?! i told you i had to pee!" you shouted at him, the other male chuckling before he neared you, bolster separating the two of you. "now i've wet the previous sheets. i have never ever wet the bed since i was 3."

he smiled, "i told you, that wasn't pee. well, kind of. i made you squirt," sylus clarified as he removed the bolster and hugged you. you glaring at him before turning your back on him. "please don't be mad at me. (fave food) tomorrow?"

you were just about to say something, but you sigheand looked back at him. "fine. but when i tell you 'no' next time, that means 'no' alright? or no sex for a year."

the thought made sylus widen his eyes before he pursed his lips then nodded, hugging you closer as you two went to sleep, unaware of a fully awake doctor who was now even more awake after what he just heard.

#male reader #x male reader #love and deepspace #smut #m!reader #love and deepspace x m!reader #bottom male reader #sub male reader

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sometimesanalice · 10 months ago

Text

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your key fob into the bowl where his are already resting, the key to his Bronco was on the same keychain with the little fighter jet charm that you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had given him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. Under the woodsy smell of his body wash there’s still a faint lingering scent of jet fuel. It’s your favorite smell.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees.

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with you dad that sunny day at the golf course.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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realtyhubph-blog · 3 months ago

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mcitycondomississauga · 1 year ago

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Are you looking for homes in M City? M City is a master-planned community that offers beautiful m6 condo Mississauga. Here, you can experience high-tech architecture for both residential and commercial spaces, ensuring the best living experience. Enjoy luxury in your everyday life and stay connected with convenient access to walk-in malls, banks, grocery stores, coffee shops, walk-in clinics, the YMCA, Mississauga City Centre Library, food junctions, restaurants, and indoor mall shopping. To access our services, please register now.

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

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leopard print.

4.5k, joel x f!reader; special guest in tags

SUMMARY: Depraved, overdue one shot for this blurb. Joel mistakes you for a sex worker, offers you a ride, Fs you, shares you and is mildly possessive about it.

WARNINGS: I8+ strangers, drugs, talk of sex work, unsafe public P in V, dubcon (drugs/alc, not noticeably intoxicated), cockwarming, degradation, pantygagging, creampies, car stuff, orgasm delay m, vaginal plugging, voyeurism, sharing. Unedited.

A/N: Night walks vibes, but different too. You'll see. New fantasy for myself 😫

"And if I was workin'?" You ask. He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt. . . "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest. . . He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands, tucking it into his waistband.

You pull into the gas station on the back of your friend's motorcycle. "When I fuel up, I'm outta here," he warns you. Oh well. If you have to walk back to your friend's condo, it's only two blocks. He's grumpy – You and your girlfriends have been a hot mess at the pool all day playing floating beer pong and licking alcoholic whipped cream off each other. He didn't wanna take you with him in the first place. No helmet, no reasonable shoes, not even a shirt.

You swing your leg off the motorcycle and as you step down onto the ground with your red wedges, you adjust your cheap, stretchy leopard print miniskirt. It matches, or clashes, with your leopard print bikini. You leave your sunglasses on as you enter the gas station with a chime. You fish a damp $20 out of your bikini top and survey the snacks.

You feel someone lurking nearby, but ignore it until you hear a deep, smooth voice. "Nice rosettes."

"s’cuse me?"

You turn only slightly toward the man. Maybe homeless. Good looking like a washed up rockstar. He gestures toward your bikini top. "That's a nice set'a rosettes." You look down at your tits spilling out of your push-up bikini top, then you look back at his face. Handsome man, really. Salt and pepper beard. Full head of dark hair with a little gray. Sunkissed skin. His eyes are kind and glassy. His nose twitches. "Oh, that's what leopards call their spots. Rosettes."

You laugh uncomfortably.

“Yeah, the ones on your top, those are pretty good.” His eyes drift down your body. “Skirt doesn’t really have’em right. Still nice though.”

"Thanks." You politely nod and return to looking at the snacks, ignoring him in the corner of your eye.

He doesn’t leave. He only gets closer. He looks you up and down and steps into your personal space. He lowers his voice. "You, uh, workin'?"

No, you don't work there. Do you look like you work at the gas station? Your stomach turns as you realize what he means, and your face goes cold. You stare at him, and your eyes drift to a hole in his shirt right below the collar. "Am I WHAT?" You ask incredulously, but trying to be quiet. Your whole body feels hot at the implication. You're humiliated, but for some reason it makes you warm between the thighs, too.

His eyes go wide, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbles, then adds, "A man can dream,” as he backs away.

Your heart races and flutters and you scold yourself for being flattered. You end up in line behind the guy. And the line takes forever, giving you plenty of time to fume and also wonder about him. It's nothing against sex work – Work is work. But you'd like to think you wouldn't be picking up a rough looking guy in a gas station. Your friend's motorcycle revs outside. You look out the window and he's there by the curb waiting for you. You could drop the snacks on the closest rack and get the heck out. But for some reason, you stay in line, and not because you’re that hungry.

Someone needs to scoot behind you and you're forced to step into the sleazy man's personal space. He smells far better than you would have imagined. Woodsy and fresh. Somehow that makes all the difference, like he's not a filthy vagrant after all. He just had the aesthetic. Which is kinda hot. Your friend on the motorcycle shakes his head, revs his engine again, then drives away.

"Asshole," you mutter.

The man in front of you (your aspiring john) glances back and again mutters, "sorry." He scratches the back of his neck and exposes a chain under his ratty t-shirt. He really does have a nice head of hair, and now you see there’s a joint behind his ear, too. Maybe he’s just a hippy.

"Not you," you mumble. Well, not only him. Both of them.

He turns to face you. "I know. Saw ya roll in." Great, so he thought that was your pimp. "Want a ride?"

"Nah, I’m close," you mutter without looking right at him, then mumble, “thanks.”

He wets his lips and stares at your chest for a moment before adding, "ya sure?" And now that you know this man smells good, wears a chain, and has a ride, you're throbbing. You cross your arms and bite your lip looking at his handsome nose while his kind eyes search yours in anticipation.

"Okay," you whisper.

"Hell yeah," he whispers back with half a smile, getting a little closer, like the two of you are plotting something.

"But I'm not workin'," you remind him.

"Heard ya the first time, gorgeous." He winks at you.

He tries to buy your food for you. When you don't let him, he nods with a smirk. He crosses his big arms, plastic bag that reads “thank you” hanging from one of them, and waits for you. Then he holds the door open on your way out.

He checks you out as you pass through the door frame. You take your sunglasses off and put them in the bag with your snacks.

"Name's Joel." When you don't tell him yours, there’s a new smirk in his voice when he says, "don't gotta tell me your real name, if ya got a street name or somethin'. . ."

"Jerk." You punch his arm and mostly suppress a laugh.

He smiles and brings a massive hand to his bicep to pretend like it hurts, and for the first time it hits you how muscular he is.

"Truck's around back." He nods toward the back of the store. He walks slightly behind you. You feel his eyes boring a hole in your ass. Then you feel the warmth of his massive palm on the small of your back and he gets closer to you as he curves his hand around your side. "Too damn hot, baby. Had me thinkin' with my dick is all." Your face heats up and you glance at him. “I’ll carry that for ya.” He takes your bag.

He's parked around a corner out of view. Between some bushes and a closed library for some reason. His truck is nice, and it's big. Tinted windows. The back window of the cab says Miller Brothers. It's sunset, so you're grateful for the ride, lest any other low lifes make the same mistake on your walk back. When y'all get to his truck, he lets his hand slide down your hip. He opens the driver’s seat and puts the bags inside. Then he leans against his truck and adjusts himself. He's wearing pinstripe lounge pants. "Can't really blame me, can ya?" He raises his eyebrows. He scans you top to bottom again. "God damn, baby."

You laugh and look down shyly, unsure whether to thank him. His eyes don't leave your body at all. "To be fair, I thought you were homeless," you admit.

He exhales a laugh and shrugs. "Where ya headed?"

"Back to my friend’s pool."

"Hungry?"

"Nah."

"Smoke?" So that’s why you’re still outside the truck. You shouldn't, but you hesitate curiously.

You lean against the bed of his truck with your elbow resting on its edge, facing him.

"Fuck you're sexy," he mutters to himself. "Helluva rack but I'm an ass man, c'mere."

He turns toward you so he's leaning with his left side on the driver's side of the truck. He puts his right hand on your hip, rotating you so you're facing the truck. "Mmmmm." He puts his hand on the small of your back again, then slides it down–slowly, experimentally, cautiously enough for you to stop him. You don't. You're throbbing. He grabs your ass–his palm is huge. You glance at him and watch his eyes study the curve of your body. Deep down in your body, you know you're gonna fuck him. You both know it. With his left hand he retrieves the joint from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth unlit.

He sucks in a breath around the joint and lifts the flesh of your closest ass cheek. When he lets it drop, a growl escapes his chest.

He fishes a lighter out of his soft pants pocket and lights up. and as he inhales, once again he can't keep his eyes off your body. He takes the joint out of his mouth and turns your face toward his. You rotate toward him and he gets close, your bodies almost touching. He looks to your eyes for permission and begins to slowly exhale downward, so it's yours if you want it. You bring your mouth closer to his and he angles the smoke more toward your mouth as you suck it up. The moment seems to last forever and your lower belly is on fire.

The sunset washes everything in a pink hue. When his lungs are empty, he murmurs "good girl" and rests his hand on your hip, lightly running his palm over your stretchy little miniskirt, feeling the bump toward the top hem where your bikini tie is. He peels the top of your stretchy skirt down to expose the knot and pulls at the string. You let him untie it. The parking lot is empty and wet from an earlier rain.

"Fuck you're hot," he mutters with the strings of your bikini hanging over the miniskirt on that side. He takes another puff and passes you the joint. You take only a small inhale. "C'mere," he murmurs and his hand on your waist nudges your side off the truck and pulls you closer to him. He unties that side of your bottoms the same way.

"And if I was workin'?" You ask.

He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt.

You ask, "How's that?"

He doesn't take his eyes off your skirt. "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest, feeling where your tits spill over the cups. "Careful sugar," he chuckles. "Start me up, I won't ever stop." He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands so his cock is upright and held in his waistband. He offers the joint again and you decline. He pinches it out and puts it back behind his ear. "Damn," he mutters, still checking you out. He rubs his hand over his cock through his soft pants. "But ya *ain’t* workin'. . . so ya got nothin' to worry 'bout," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. "''Less ya want it . . ." God, you do. You want it.

"Wrecked, huh?" You challenge him.

He sighs and his big hand on your hot skin rotates you back toward the truck. You hang your elbows over the side of the truck bed. He slinks behind you, then lets the heft of his cock against your ass crack. You gasp at how nice and hard it is. It moves against you and he sucks in a breath through his teeth then lets out a, "Mmm" as he exhales. He rolls his hips against you and uses both hands on your hips to pull your ass back into him so you're off the truck.

He holds you with one arm around your waist and his other hand slides between your legs from the front, up your skirt. "Bad girl, ain't ya?" His hand skims up your inner thigh to the crotch of your swimsuit, hanging loosely now that it's untied on both sides. "Yeah, ya are,” he answers for you. He slides two thick fingers through your folds and you sigh, tilting your head back. "Spread your legs for a stranger?." His voice is deep and gruff and makes you throb. “S’okay, not just any stranger.” His other hand grabs a tit while he runs his fingers through your dripping folds, then begins to circle your clit with his drenched digits. "Oh she's beggin' for it, baby," he murmurs.

He lets your weight against the truck again so his forearm is between you and the metal with his hand still between your legs. His cock presses against your ass at a slow rhythm, making your insides swell with need for him as he fingers your clit. You squirm and your hips rock into his hand. You whimper and he brings his mouth to your ear. "Five hundred," he whispers.

You gasp and he adds, "Not you. . .I'm workin' now, baby" as he speeds up on your clit. "I'm a penthouse boy, but that's your back alley discount."

"Fuck you," you laugh.

"First one's free if i cum inside," he murmurs into your neck. Then he grabs the crotch of your swimsuit and yanks it down, pulling it off entirely. He pins you to the truck with his cock against your ass. He shoves the swimsuit in your mouth and ties the strings behind your head. You taste the chlorine and your own arousal. You turn your head to look behind you and he reassures you no one can see.

His hand returns between your legs and he slips one, then two thick, wet fingers into you. Your cunt squelches obscenely around his digits. "Hell yeah, hear her beggin' for me?". He frees his cock from his pants and keeps fingering you. Then he slides his fingers out and your walls twitch at the loss. He wedges his cock under your skirt and it’s so big you have to spread your legs more. He runs the head through your folds and you’re gushing. As the head massages your clit, you moan into the swimsuit in your mouth. "Want the first one free, don't ya?" He taunts into your neck, dragging his lips along the delicate skin. "Want me to fill up this filthy hole?" You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "First with this cock, then all the cum ya can hold," he murmurs and you nod. You tilt your hips and spread your legs. "Good," he breathes. "Good girl." He notches himself with the curve of his tip just inside. "Ready to swallow me whole, hot damn."

You push back on him and he says, "shit," and pushes into you. He slides right into you, spreading your cunt wide open with a groan into your neck. It's a delicious stretch and he fills you to the brim, bottoming out on the first go. "God damn, sugar." He retreats and slides his thick cock into you again, sheathing it entirely with your dripping cunt. You weren't even sure you could take this cock but it's perfect. "Fuck, you feel good," he pants and twitches inside you. If he comes early you're going to laugh but you pray he won't. He begins to roll his hips at a steady rhythm, and you moan into the swimsuit. He breathes heavily against your neck and bites and sucks you. You adjust your hips and push back on him to his rhythm.

"Take it like a pro," he pants, "an' you're tight, too. Damn." His right hand works your clit. His left hand comes to your throat, thumb on the left side of it, fingers on the right. Choke me, you think. Do it. But he doesn't. He licks and kisses at the left side of your throat, by his thumb. Then his fingers on the right of your neck tense for leverage and he plants his teeth on the left side of your neck. He sucks hard and moans into you as he sucks more, like he's thirsty for blood. Your neck aches under the grip of his mouth. He breathes through his nose, and when he finally breaks with a gasp, he fucks you harder, grunting and sighing.

You moan and he pulls your top down under your tits. A breeze and the rustling of branches nearby reminds you of the danger and you shiver. Your nipples harden under his forearm and palm and your cunt spasms. He groans behind your ear and you whimper and arch your back.

"Gonna come on this cock?"

You can only whimper again in response.

"Go 'head, baby," he breathes and reaches for your clit again, groping a breast with his other hand.

You bite down on the swimsuit and your body jerks into his as you come undone. "Oh yeah," he sighs. "Fuck yeah, ohhh baby." He thrusts into you harder and you moan as your cunt chokes his cock, and with another powerful thrust he bottoms out and begins to erupt with a long sigh, pulsing warmly inside you. Then he reaches for your face and pulls down the swimsuit gag. As you gasp for air, he turns your head toward him. He kisses you deeply with his cock still rutting deep and slow inside you, pulsing the last of his seed into your depths. He moans into your mouth. And when your lips disconnect, he looks at you softly. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, more intimately than you’d expect. Then you feel awkward, and look at the back of his truck–Miller Brothers. You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Joel Miller, huh?" You cringe at yourself.

He raises his eyebrows. "What, like the sound'a Miller?"

Your face goes hot and you make a joke to change the subject. "Your brother’a penthouse boy too?"

Joel's cock slides out of you and you feel empty. He starts to fix your swimsuit top and says, "Somethin' like that. . .I'll introduce ya," as he finishes straightening it. What are you, dating now?

You start to protest, "Oh, I dunno," then pivot to something more agreeable but noncommittal. “Sure, maybe sometime.”

—---

Joel walks you to the passenger side. What a gentleman. He opens the door for you. The seat isn't empty. There's a handsome man with longer, curly hair, a sexy smile, and his hands in his lap.

"Name’s Tommy," Joel says behind you. "My lil bro."

When Tommy lifts a hand to give you a little salute, you see his cock is out of his pj pants. "Howdy, sweetheart." He's not even shy about it. He raises his eyebrows and holds it at attention for you, thick and hard. Butterflies swarm in your stomach and you can't take your eyes off it. "Kept the seat warm for ya," Tommy beams.

"Go on, sugar," Joel nods to Tommy's lap. "’fore my cum leaks out everywhere."

Your heart races and your clit throbs. It feels like you're in a dream. This is so lewd and vile. But you just got pounded in a parking lot, and who's gonna know, and who cares. You wanna sit on that cock.

You look at Joel and he shrugs. "Don't gotta, but it's there." He leans in and gives you a kis, then murmurs "An’ she won't be leakin’ all over." He chuckles, then kisses you again. Damn, he’s a good kisser. When his head pulls back, you give him a devious, inquisitive look. and he says, "that's my girl." He helps you up and you scrunch up your skirt more. "She's hot as fuck, man," he tells his brother.

You're facing the windshield, and it's like Tommy’s just part of the seat. It's a large truck so there's enough clearance over your head. Tommy's large hands come to your thighs.

"I got her," Joel says and Tommy moves his right hand to hold his cock for you. You tilt your hips and Tommy notches himself at your hole, which is still pulsing with an occasional aftershock. Before too much of Joel's cum can trickle down Tommy's cock, they both pull you down on him and you're stuffed full once again.

"Good girl," Tommy whispers. Joel looks at you lustily and reaches his hand between your legs. He gives your clit a little rub, and you spasm on Tommy’s cock with an aftershock from Joel.

"Goddamn," Tommy mutters.

"Yeah," Joel whispers, then gives you another kiss. He shoots Tommy a serious look. "Don't fuckin' come inside her."

"I know, I know." Tommy hugs you back into his broad chest. "I’ain’t nothin' but a seat, honey. A seat and a plug." The crudeness makes you twitch.

Joel shuts the passenger door and goes back around to the driver's side. Tommy murmurs softly behind your ear. "Ya feel nice, though."

Joel buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine. Tommy rests his hands casually on your hips and his thick cock twitches inside you. He clears his throat.

"Tellin' ya, man," Joel warns.

"Nothin' to worry 'bout, brother," Tommy reassures him, playing it cool. "You used her up good."

Joel backs up the truck and asks, "Where to?"

You tell him the building. It's already in view in the distance as you approach the street to pull out from the parking lot. "There," you point to it. Joel opens his Takis and puts a few in his mouth. Your walls are hugging Tommy's cock as Joel eats his snack and drives. You bounce on Tommy's thick cock as Joel pulls onto the main street, immediately getting stuck at a red light. You moan, and Tommy stifles a grunt then whispers "shhhh," into your hair. It's not a long way. But you're stuck in traffic.

"What do you listen to?" Joel asks and turns on the radio. It's on the local classic rock station.

"That works," you mumble, laid back against Tommy's barrel chest with your eyes half closed. While Joel is focused on the road, Tommy wedges his hand under one of the push-up cups of your bikini.

Tommy sighs, then whispers into your right ear where Joel can’t see. "Sexy little thing ain't ya." His cock twitches. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to moan. He lightly pinches your nipple then fixes your suit again. God his cock feels good. You're almost to your friends condo, but you don't want it to be over.

"Can you, uh–can you take me to my place instead?" You ask

Joel looks at you and cocks an eyebrow. "Not back to the pool?" You shake your head sleepily. "Tuckered out, huh?” he chuckles. “That's okay baby. Where ya live?"

You tell him the apartment complex. It's a couple miles further. "Good girl," Tommy whispers, pleased to have you on his cock a little longer. As Joel drives, you feel Tommy subtly lifting his hips. The bumps in the road have you bouncing on him too. And with the slow traffic, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a miniskirt, you catch a few stares, even through the dark tinted windows. It turns you on more. It turns Joel on, too. He's hard again and rubbing himself over his pj's which are wrecked with drying drops of his cum, your juices, and a darker new spot of precum. Tommy’s cock is so thick, and it throbs, and occasionally twitches, and you can so freshly conjure the feeling of Joel pounding you too, whispering filth into your ear.

Your body’s building toward another climax, but you’re trying not to let it. Your cunt spasms, and Tommy's chest expands under your back with a deep inhale. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs. You’re almost there.

"Joel, i–" you reach over for him. He looks at your face and does a double take. "Shit," he peels into the closest corner. "It's okay, hold on for me sugar."

Tommy moans, trying so hard not to cum. "You better fuckin not,” Joel growls at Tommy. Joel takes off his seat belt as he parks and urgently takes his cock out. "C'mere baby," Joel reaches for you. Tommy groans and you feel a little pulse as he hoists you off his cock. Your cunt twitches, trying to hang onto Tommy, not wanting to let him go. Tommy erupts as his cock slides out of you and his cum paints your folds. He moans through it, cock in his hand, cum gurgling onto his fist, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Meanwhile Joel pulls you toward him and your cunt is beginning to flutter ever so slightly around nothing, but you’re staving off a full climax. You kneel on the empty seat between them and Joel urgently pulls you into straddling him. His cheeks are flushed and his face is serious. "yeah, I got ya baby." He wets his lips, then his mouth hangs open as his tip finds your hole and he pulls you down on his dick, even thicker than you remember. "Hell yeah," he whispers and you're packed full of cock again. "Uungghh yeah," Joel lifts his hips into you and you cum on his cock right away.

"Oh fuck," you gasp, "Joel–ugghgh," you moan unrestrained and tilt your head back. He catches it in his hand and brings your face to his. You clench around his cock and he fucks up into you slowly. Your lips break with moans from each of you as you cum on his cock and he moves you. He hugs you into him and latches onto the unmarked side of your neck. Then your clit is grinding into him as he keeps moving you on him while your climax wanes.

"So damn hot, baby. Really take it like a pro." His words make you spasm again, and Joel groans. He rocks you on his cock, biting his lip. You can tell from how quiet he is, he’s trying not to cum so fast. But he can’t help it and after a minute, he asks, "Ready for another load?" You nod, desperate to feel him pulse inside you. "Think ya can handle it?"

You nod and roll your hips into him. You could come again, too.

"Hell yeah, that's my bad girl–oh, fuck, fuck–ohhh.” He grunts from the back of his throat as his cock pulses enormously inside you, adding to his first load. As his moan wanes, his lips latch onto yours again. Your lips move together, and you begin to clench around his cock again, whimpering into his mouth with the pleasure. It seems to last forever. When your lips break, he reads your eye and mutters, "fuck, you're hot.”

He breathes heavily while his pulses continue but echo smaller and smaller, as with your aftershocks on him. He sits back against the seat for a moment catching his breath. "You're somethin' else," he whispers, then looks around outside. "What unit are you?"

You tell him your apartment number and point out the building. You stay impaled on his cock as he drives to that building. He nuzzles his nose and mouth into your neck. He parks the car, then spends another moment with you. He nibbles your neck, presses sweet kisses into your jaw, fixes your hair, then whispers, "Nice to meet ya, sugar."

Tommy gets out of the truck and walks around to the driver’s side, and opens Joel’s door. Joel kisses you goodbye, deeply, with tongue, and helps hoist you off his cock. Tommy helps you down out of the truck while Joel tucks his cock away. Tommy gives you a hug and kisses you on the cheek. Then they drive away and leave you wrecked and wanting more.

---------

thank you so much for reading and engaging! I really love and appreciate y'all.

For more Joel and Tommy, check out stuffing.

if you liked this joel... you'd like the night walks AU, If you like the sharing with a hint of dominance/possessiveness, I think walkintotheriveranddisappear has a gang bang where only Joel can cum inside. I have Tommy's hard day (established free use relationship with Joel)

toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs.

EDIT - alright I've gotten several messages this week saying notifs aren't working. I think they might be delayed for some people but idk what to do. I guess I'm temporarily bringing this back but idk if it's even the most recent list 🤡 please subscribe to notifs on toxicfics if you haven't already. If you haven't been getting notifs, you can see the most recent fics you missed on toxicfics.

All Joel: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz

@within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @daddy-dins-girl

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #toxicanonymity ☠️#tommy miller x reader #tommy miller smut #cw dubcon #tw dubcon #cw dub con #tw dub con #night walks!joel #night walks inspired

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planned-obsolescence · 7 months ago

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god-tier sydcarmy fics

no one asked but i'm suddenly overcome with gratitude that fic writers just drop these gems for FREE. we are so lucky. these are the ones i constantly reread because they make me feel so much.

all of these are rated M or E because if they ain't fuckin, i ain't reading.

five times at a simmer; once boiling over by seh28 my kink? emotional intimacy. that's what these two need more than any bullshit stars. this fic serves it up like it's a floor donut and i'm carmy straight up eating that shit.

friends, partners, and intimates by sashafiercer i'm always here for it when syd gives carmy what he deserves. and i'm DEFINITELY here for it when the dialogue between the two is so on point it gives me whiplash. written by an all time 🐐.

forget about your house of cards by minecrafter42 i love reading about how carmy can't get it together in sydney's presence. this fic presents their dynamic so viscerally that the slow burn is more like a slow simmer. i needed a cigarette after i finished this one.

temper, temper by malariamonsters have you ever read anything so beautiful it made you cry? yeah, this fic. it's at the top of the tag for a reason because it captures carmy's consuming love for syd so perfectly. i want to live inside this fic.

child with a child pretending by emilybrontay sydney has a baby before she starts working at the beef, and carmy knows what bluey is. i'm done. i am very picky when it comes to stories set in sydney's POV (my girl is a complex masterpiece, you better get her right), and this is one of the greatest, most thoughtful.

Mise En Place by badcircuit love fics that present syd and carmy as partners in every sense of the word. beautifully written, hot as fuck. another one that gets syd right. again, i take portrayals of my girl so seriously and this one is gorg.

Take Care by oysterknife oh boy. this one literally came out last week but i already read it upwards of 10 times. i will read anything oysterknife writes but GODDAMN. this one changed my brain chemistry with the emotional intimacy between the two. i love longing and yearning and this one is like a masterclass in it. the literary references made me kick my feet and giggle. as a brooklyn girlie, THIS is the nyc i wanna see: flushing, crown heights, greenpoint minus the condos, shitting on the residents of murray hill, i want it all. also the ending made me sob. not joking.

#sydcarmy #using my obsession for good i hope

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luvyeni · 1 year ago

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❛1-800-SERVICE ME❜ ( z. chenle )

p. ceo!chenle x toplessmaid!reader w. 2.6k+

— 𖦹 warnings. small age gap ( reader is 23 and chenle is 26 ), fem!reader, oral ( m. receiving ), unprotected sex

— 𖦹 ( instead of giving chenle his normal maid cleaning services his assistant gives him a surprise for his birthday ) !

Chenle was a busy man —being the CEO of the top electronic company in Seoul, he didn’t have time to do things, like clean his condo himself, which is why he got his assistant and friend jaemin to schedule maids' services to come do it for him.

“Happy birthday boss man.” Jaemin met him at the elevator, his coffee in his hand. “How are you feeling this morning, the big 26.” He took the cup from the boy, taking a sip. “it’s a regular day for me, meetings, answering calls, meeting with investors.” He said as they walked through the office.

“Yeah, but now you’re a year older.” Jaemin followed behind him into the office. “So i’m closer to thirty, big whoop.” He sat in his chair. “Such a downer, anyways what are you doing later, for your birthday?”

“I’m going home jaemin, that’s all I want to do.” He said, it wasn’t that he didn’t like to party, but he was always so busy, and the only thing he wanted was to get off early and go home and rest. “I want to order some food, drink a cup a whiskey and then crash in my bed.”

“No fun.” Jaemin said, “You’re gonna die alone at this rate.” Chenle shrugged. “Jaemin go prepare for the meeting and leave me alone.” He spoke. “Just trying to help.” The boy said. “That is helping, go.”

“Fine, fine, i’m going.” He said making his way out the door, only to turn around. “What now?” Chenle sighed. “I just wanted to tell you that the maid service you like was closed down, so I chose a new one, they’ll be over later today.” He nodded looking at his computer. “Good, now go.”

Chenle finished his day early, most of his meetings were canceled or rescheduled — so why not get out of here. “Going home early boss?” jaemin asked. “Yup, i’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, jaemin yelled before he got on the elevator. “don’t forget, the maids' services will be there later on today!” Chenle didn’t notice the mischievous smirk that was evident on his assistant's face.

Chenle got home, sitting his briefcase down on the kitchen table — making his way into his bedroom to change his clothes, exchanging his black Prada suit, into some comfortable sweats and a white tee short.

He found a nice Chinese restaurant, picking up his phone, ordering his favorites, it would be an hour and a half wait but he was willing to wait, it would give him enough time to pour himself a drink and wind down some.

He set off the the kitchen, pouring himself his most favorite expensive whiskey in a glass with a huge ice cube, taking a sip, humming in delight — this was looking like his best birthday in a while, just peace and quiet.

His peace and quiet was soon disrupted by his buzzer going off. “That was fast.” He said, “I thought it would be an hour and a half wait.” He pressed the intercom button. “Hello?” He spoke through the microphone. “Oh hello.” A soft voice came through the intercom. “You can leave it there, someone will be down to pick it up.”

You were confused, “Are you not Zhong Chenle?” you were sure this was the address, had you gotten it wrong? “T-the maids services.” Chenle forgotten about that. “Oh yeah, i’m sorry about that.” He hit the button. “You may come up.”

This was a nice apartment, you’ve only been in this line of work for a few months, but most of your clients were rich so you’ve seen a lot of nice houses and apartments — but this was the nicest you’ve ever seen, this guy must’ve been really important.

You made your way to the apartment, sitting all your supplies down, knocking on the door. “Coming.” You heard his voice, then the door unlocking, swinging open revealing a tall guy, he was cute, dressed in the sinful, grey sweats, white tee shirt combo. “Hello.” He spoke.

“Oh h-hi.” You waved, “Mr.Zhong?” you asked, he smiled. “Call me chenle, come in.” You whispered his first name, picking up all your supplies, following him into the apartment. “You can start in here.” He pointed to the kitchen. “Okay.” You said, sitting the supplies down, reaching for your black trench coat, untyping the belt, revealing your baby pink lingerie.

“The bedroom isn’t that bad, i mean I only use it for sle- whoa!” His eyes widened as you reached for the back of your bra. You stopped, looking at him. “Would you prefer of I kept it on?” You questioned, but that was the furthest thing on his mind. “Why are you wearing that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “The email said that’s what you requested, is this not the shade of pink you like?”

“N-no it’s very pretty- I mean- never mind that, i’m talking about why are you wearing lingerie?” He said, trying not to look at you, fear of a law suit. “And why are you trying to take it off.”

“It’s just the bra.” You said, he couldn’t understand why you were so calm, he was freaking the fuck out, who did jaemin call. “Plus, it’s part of the services.” You explained. “Service?” He questioned. “Yes, the topless maid services— topless, maid sorta the whole thing.”

That cheeky fucking bastard, he was gonna kill jaemin tomorrow. “I’m sorry, this is all new to me, my soon to be ex assistant hired you, it’s my birthday today, and he has to be over the top.” You nodded. “It’s okay, we can cancel the services if you’d like.” You were sweet, you stared at him with wide innocent eyes, you’ve must’ve been new to this.

“No.” He said, “No it’s okay, just shocked me a bit, you can continue.” He spoke. “You sure sir, I would hate to ruin your birthday with such an inconvenience.” He ignored the way his cock twitched when you said sir. “Who am I to stop you from doing your job, you may continue.”

You nodded, “okay.” You said. “Would you like for me to keep the bra on?” he shrugged. “Whatever you feel comfortable with.” You hummed, his eyes widened as you reached behind, unlatching the hooks, letting your bra fall into your hands, your boobs perky the air from the condo had your nipples pebbling — fuck he was getting hard.

“May I start sir?” He coughed; he loved the way sir just fell from your lips. “Um sure.” He said, you began your job, starting with the kitchen like he told you, he watched from the other room, he gulped watching as you washed the dishes, you weren’t even doing it sexy, he was just being a pervert, wishing the water would spray on you, or a little bit of soap would get caught on your boobs — he felt like a virgin seeing a pair of tits for the first times.

You made your way into the living-room where he was sitting. “You need me to leave.” He still didn’t understand how this worked. “No, the whole point is for you to watch me.” You said, chuckling. “And you clean my house naked?” He said, you nodded. “Topless, not naked.” You corrected, he nodded. “Right topless, and you get paid a lot for it – i’m sorry i don’t mean to pry.”

“It depends – if you have a lot of clients, you get paid a lot of money, and your tips, if you’re asking if I get paid a lot personally.” You reached up dusting his fireplace, giving him a peak of your ass, he palmed himself, stopping when you turned around. “I am able to live way more comfortably than someone my age normally does sir.”

He was gonna burst if you kept calling him that. “A-and how old are you?” You smiled, you could tell you were effecting him. “I’m 23 sir.” You bent down, you heard him sigh.

“What about you sir, how old are you?” He coughed again. “Me? Oh, i’m 26.” He wasn’t that older than you, you hummed. “And what do you do?”

The sudden turn of questions stumped him, especially since it was hard not to stare at your boobs. “I-i’m the CEO of sm tech company.” So, he was a huge deal, that explained the nice house.”

You nodded, getting back to work. “That’s so cool, i’ve never worked with a CEO before.” He smiled, you were cute, had this freshness to you, it was quite the scene change from all the corporate girls he met. “I guess.” He spoke.

You eventually moved to the other rooms, cleaning and tidying up everything until you were done. “You did such a good job.” You smiled. “You did better than any maid i’ve had come here.” He spoke. “Are you saying that because i’m topless?” You were a tease. “Well, i’m mean that is a plus, but you’re also a good cleaner.” He spoke. “Good job.”

Fuck he was really turning you on, your tried to ignore the feeling in between your legs, trying to remain professional like normal, but you were only human, and you could literally see his thick cock stiff in his sweats, begging to fill your mouth. “How much do I owe you?” He asked. “Oh no, I was paid already.” He nodded. “Well then a tip.”

He reached for his wallet, pulling out 5 hundred dollar bills. “Here.” He handed it to you. “This is such a generous amount.” You said. “Well I said you did a good job.” He smiled. “Take it.” He said, pulling at your waist band, putting it inside snapping it, normally that was a breech of contract, and you should’ve called him out for it, but he was fucking hot, and you were horny, you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You liked that princess?” He smirked as you nodded. “Y-yes sir.” He could feel a groan bubbling in his throat. “Fuck princess, you keep calling me sir, it’s getting really hard for me.” He spoke, his voice low. “I’m sorry sir.” You smiled. “Oh, you’re a tease, princess I could do so many things to you.”

Fuck you wanted to drop to your knees so fast. “Sir you know there’s no touching in these services.” You teased. “Yeah, but I don’t see you stopping me, you must want me to touch you.” His hands crept up your waist, you sighed. “See princess, you want this just as much as I do.” He pulled your body flush against his, pulling you into a deep kiss, pulling away. “Fu-fuck my cock is so fucking hard right now.”

You guided him to the couch, pushing him down. “Let me help you.” You sunk to your knees, right in front of his cock, biting your lip, looking up at him. “It’s your birthday after all.” He nodded, you grabbed his waistband, he lifted his hips up allowing you to pull his sweats down to his ankles.

You freed his cock from his underwear, his thick cock springing up, hitting his abdomen. “You’re so big.” You grabbed the base, kissing his tip, he hissed. “So heavy.” He groaned as you sucked on his tip. “Fuck princess, take it into your mouth.”

You engulfed his cock, he moaned out, throwing his head back against the couch. It had been a while since he’d been giving a blowjob, and the the way you were sucking him, hollowing your cheeks, deepthroating him like your life depended on it — he was gonna blow his load.

You worked your magic on his, looking at him through your lashes. “Sh-shit princess of you keep sucking me like that, i’m gonna cum in your mouth.” You released his cock with a pop, stroking it. “That’s what I want.” You kept stroke. “Cum in my mouth sir.”

You took him back into your mouth, deepthroating him. “Fu-fuck, fuck.” He moaned. “Im gonna cum, gonna fucking cum down your throat, ngh fuck!” you felt his cum hit the back of your throat. “That’s it, take my cum down that pretty throat.”

You took him out your mouth, giving his tip a few kisses. “You taste so good.” He groaned; your panties were soaked through, desperate to feel his cock in your cunt.

“Wanna ride your cock.” You climbed into his lap, your pantie clad cunt, sitting directly on his cock. “Fu-fuck, gonna take my cock?” He brought his hand down to your ass, slapping it. “Fuck yes.” You moaned. “Wanna ride it so bad.”

“Fuck.” You were killing him, all he wanted for his birthday was to have a peaceful night in and a clean house — now he has all that and a pretty girl ready to ride his cock.

“Take your panties off, leave those pretty thigh garners on.” You stood up, pulling your panties down your legs, giving him a nice look at your ass. “Fuck, sit down.” You straddled his lap, hovering over his cock. “Mmh, fuck!” you moaned, sitting down on his cock. “Your cock is so big.”

You bounced up and down, his cock stretching you out. “Fuck princess, keep bouncing, fucking taking my dick like a good girl.” He moaned, you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, “S-sir.” You moaned, he slapped your ass. “Fu-fuck!” You screamed. “That sir word is gonna get you fucked dumb baby.” He growled. “I want it.”

He planted his feet, fucking up into your, your moans became high pitched, chenle’s neighbors probably heard you, but you didn’t care, not when you were about to reach your high. “S-sir.” You spoke. “Sir i’m gonna cum.” He grunted, grabbing your boobs. “Fuck me too, cum for me princess, cum all over my cock, so I can cum all over those perfect tits.”You screamed, thighs shaking as you coated his cock in your cum. “That’s it -fuck- cum all over my dick.”

“Fuck.” He cursed, he was about to cum, he could feel it. “Fuck get back on your knees, i’m about to blow my load.” You got up, sinking back down on your knees. “Stroke it for me.”

You took his cock into your hand, stroking it, he moaned out. “Fuck!” he groaned. “Fuck I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum.” He moaned, cum spurting from his cock, landing on your boobs and on your lower chin. “Sh-shit.” He breathed, watching his cum drip down your chest, coating your nipples. “So pretty.”

He scooped up some of his cum from your nipples, pressing it on your lips — you took his fingers into your mouth. “Fuck good girl.” You sucked his fingers cleaned.

You chuckled taking in everything that just happened. “I’ve never did that with a client before.” You said, chenle chuckled. “Guess i’m special.” You excused yourself to use his bathroom to clean up, putting your panties back on, and your bra, ready to leave. “Here.” He gave you an extra 200 dollars. “Think of it as a birthday present.” You said.

He nodded, “well then hand me your phone number, so can schedule another appointment.” You smiled, “You’re supposed to book me on the sight.” He rolled his eyes. “Stop being such a tease, i’ll book you on the stupid site, but your number is if I want a personal type of service.” Your smirked, writing down your number. “Here.”

You put your jacket back on, grabbing your cleaning supplies, he walked you to the door. “Happy birthday sir.” You said kissing his cheek, before walking away down the hall. “Shit.” He closed the door, sitting back down on the couch.

His phone rang, he answered it, jaemins voice rang through the phone. “So, did you enjoy it?” he rolled his eyes. “Next time, give me a heads up.” he said. “Did you like it?” He bit his lip. “I should fire you.” The boy laughed. “I see you had a good time; I hear the happiness in your voice, I won’t ask questions.” jaemin teased.

“I know you’ll be booking again though.”

©️LUVYENI

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