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lumibuns-blog · 1 month ago

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Ghost x Soap's roomie

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

its just two idiots in love at this point and also Soap and Gaz are there too lmao. I have more for this concept on my page or under the tag if you like it💪

Dinner was finished quicker than Simon would have preferred considering he still couldn't get the image of your sly smile out of his head, not to mention the piece of food he was sure was stuck in his throat from the laughing fit you had sent him and Gaz into with your well timed nut-tap. You were intoxicating to him, it was almost insufferable how unable he was to get your voice, your face, your figure, everything, out of his head. He could swear that he's never felt this way before about anyone, ever. It was like the moment he set eyes on you, his mind had made itself up and all he could do was let himself fall even further and further in love with you.

So he now watched as you forced a very upset Soap to do the dishes, not without great effort.

"aw 'bon why tha' hell do I have'ta do this shite it's fuckin feechie" he whined

"'cause I do the cooking, that's the deal we have" you bit back "plus, I've cleaned our bathroom before" you turned to face both Simon and Kyle, Simon couldn't help but notice he was the one you locked eyes with "you wanna see nasty, use the shower when he's finished" you sighed

"oye! Not fair" Johnny warned, an accusing finger pointed towards you "you shed more than a hound when 'ure in there, ya clog the damn drain"

"excuse me! I clean up after myself at least, any hair you find in there is yours!" you yelled back, clearly embarrassed

"nae, ma' hair ain't long with split ends, er' whateva' the hell 'ure always moanin' 'bout in there"

you had half a mind to hit him across the face for that, "I don't know, hairs getting a little long there princess" you teased, gesturing to his grown out mohawk "need to get it trimmed? or you worried they might leave you looking bald again like last time?" you grinned

"awe no way!" Gaz grinned "you got pictures?" he ran over to you. Simon was curious too but didn't make a show of it, settling to sit back with his arms crossed instead, surveying the chaos.

"sure do" you beamed, ready to pull out your phone

"Naw naw!" Johnny scrambled to intercept his friend "nae happenin'"

you flung the phone behind you, out of his reach "then wash the fucking dishes man" you scoffed, shoving the sponge into his chest "thought they called you Soap for a reason?"

"feckin whatever" Johnny groaned, returning to the sink and flicking the tap on

you beamed and turned to head towards your room, calling out your dibs on the shower. Not before holding your phone up to Kyle and Simon, mouthing an 'I'll show you later' before slipping out of view.

"cheeky little mother fucker..." Soap mumbled, the half smile on his face turning into a look of disgust as he touched some wet food.

"so...." Gaz started after a moment "Never did decide where we 'going to be sleepin' mate?"

"well 've only got two beds" Johnny said, back turned to his friends "an' mine can only fit one a you's plus ma'self" he continued "an' like -ell I'm not going to sleepin on 'ma own bed while 'm home , so one ya will have-tae take the couch" he paused "unless the other one wants to bunk up with 'er" he laughed

Simon froze simply at the idea, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable in his slacks at the thought of being right up next to you while you rested. If you were closer would be be able to put his hands of you? trace the contours of your waist with his finger tips, burry his nose in the back of your head and wrap his hulking arms around your smaller figure? Feel the curve of your ass as you pressed against-

he bit the inside of his cheek and gripped the counter top so hard his knuckles turned white, "I'll take the couch" he huffed "'ure smaller anyway" he gestured to Kyle

"Whateva' mate" Gaz rolled his eyes, taking his friends jab in stride.

You had claimed dibs of the shower first because you were well aware that three, probably filthy, men (all of which had to be over 6 feet) were bound to need to use it as well and it would be pointless to try and wash your hair after that disaster.

"I'm done!" you called absentmindedly from the hallway, a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair sticking to your neck and back. Simon had found a very interesting part of the ceiling to focus on while you went back to your room, "try to not blow the thing up, I've got a down payment on this thing" you said, closing the door behind you.

silence fell over the room once again, as all three men glanced between themselves. Gaz was first, he took off at a run towards the bathroom door, determined to be second. Soap started off not more then a moment after him,

"aye ya prick, it's my house this?!" he grabbed for Gaz who held on steady to the door

"exactly mate! we're the guests!" Kyle chided "so be a good host 'an bugger off!"

"Nae 'm not lettin' you's skimp me outta a hot shower" Soap yelled attempting to pull Gaz back, but the man had such a a tight hold on the door he might've pulled out the hinges first.

you reopened the door after hearing the chaos, still in only a towel "the hell is-?" you were cut off almost immediately by ghost stepping in, he grabbed them both by the back collars of their shirts with what seemed like minimal effort, and pulled them off each other.

"Gaz you go first," he growled "Johnny, at least finish drying the bloody dishes before you go runnin' off" he shoved your roommate back into the kitchen

"Lt.! 's no fair he's goin' first! Why do you get to decide?" Soap griped

"on base 'er not, 'm still in charge." Simon said plainly, narrowing his eyes towards his friend, "just be lucky I'm the one yellin' at you for tusslin' around inside"

"In 'ma own home!" Johnny threw his hands up in defeat as Gaz pumped his fist before closing the bathroom door.

for a moment, your eyes met Simon's as you peaked from behind your door and they lingered there. His gaze was so was piercing as he glared from above his mask, that he had (unfortunately) put back in after dinner. His eyes only remained that way for a moment however, for as soon as they met yours, they softened. The harsh lines fell away instantly and his pupils began to dilate when they met yours, not aware you had been watching the whole ordeal.

'why did his eyes have to be so pretty?'

He coughed quickly, tearing his gaze from you before returning to the kitchen himself. Leaving you awe struck, fanning your face behind the closed door of your room.

When it was finally time for him to take a shower, Simon allowed himself a moment of respite in the bathroom before actually cleaning himself off. Away from Johnny's teasing glances and their incessant banter that he hated to admit he had come to be too fond of to reprimand them for, and they knew that all to well. Above all else though, it was a moment to internally process seeing you in nothing but a towel because when he had tried to think it over out there, the evidence of that was all too noticeable. You had looked so fucking good, wet hair, glossy skin, that towel that did absolutely nothing to cover up the swell of your tits as you pressed it to your chest. Even the simple fact that your cheeks still flushed from the heat of the shower sent his whole body into overdrive.

'shit- right, the shower.'

He broke from his thoughts to finally enter the shower but that did nothing to aid him in his situation. On the ledge was your shampoo and various other soaps, much like how your side of the sink was covered in various products and bottles he couldn't name even if he tried. Johnny's side had a toothbrush that was joined by Gaz's wash bag, and that was it. In the shower however, he only saw what were clearly your products. He grumbled and opened the door just a crack,

"Either 'a you got any shower gel?" He yelled through the crack, rather embarrassed at his current situation, "lef' mine at base."

"jus' use 'er's!" Johnny called back from his spot on the couch "'s what I do anyway..."

"You what?!" you yelled from across the flat

"dumbass" Kyle scoffed

"kidding, kidding!" Johnny laughed "Mines the one with the green lid mate, ya don' see it?"

"Fuckin hell...neva'mind!" Ghost responded, closing the door again. He swore he wasn't seeing straight. It didn't help that the whole bathroom already smelt like you, your intoxicating scent invading every breath he took. But to use your products? That was some shit couples do, and he had to stop his mind from getting away from him with that fantasy.

Stepping into the shower once more he located Johnny's soap. Spring rain?, no fucking wonder he hadn't noticed it, who would've thought Soap would use something like this? He quickly washed himself and got dressed, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he exited the bathroom.

You stood in the kitchen, a large sweatshirt dwarfed your frame. You seemed to be waiting for the kettle of the stove to heat up as you noticed his presence.

"oh I can take that" you smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand to take his towel from him.

He very reluctantly gave it to you, worried it would smell bad or have something gross on it he hadn't even realized. "was just about to start another lode anyway" you chimed, opening up the closet door and throwing it in the machine before starting it.

Simon couldn't help himself "Colors I'm assuming?" he joked

you whipped around to face him "Now don't you start" you scolded, but the smile and deep red of your cheeks was unmistakable, "Johnny's enough to deal with on his own" you headed back to your kettle

"'m sorry, I'll try to be less of a pain in the arse to ya than he is" Simon chuckled

"that's a low bar" you laughed dully "but thank you"

Simon found conversation to flow freely with you, like it does with the rest of his team but only after he had gotten close to them. He had only known you for a day but still found it so natural to speak to you (if he ignored the deafening sound of his heartbeat and the massive lump in his throat).

"want any tea?" your offer broke the silence as you grinned and held up the now boiling kettle.

"uh- sure" he nodded, was his heart getting louder?

you tossed open one of the cupboards "pick your poison" you chirped, gesturing the stocked shelf of teas.

he rounded the island to inspect the selection, peering over you in such a way that his form eclipsed yours and forced you to move back against the counter top. You held your breath.

"'ere" he handed a small tin containing a non-caffeinated herbal blend down to you and stepped away "is it any good?" he asked, pointing lazily at the tin that you now held.

you tried to shrug your flustered feelings away "Better be, 's what I'm having" you turned to grab him a mug from the shelf.

Simon smiled to himself at the knowledge he picked the same type of tea as you purely by coincidence. Moments later you were handing it to him, "here ya go Ghost" you said placing the hot mug in front of him

"Simon." he responded plainly

"Hm?" you tilted your head a bit

"Simon's fine, ya don't need to be calling me that 'Ghost' shit 'ere" he was staring holes into the kitchen island, wondering if it was weird for him to be asking you to call him by his given name.

"Alright, Simon it is then" you beamed, not missing a beat

christ his name sounded so good when you said it

"sorry guess it was just habit, seeing as thats what Johnny calls you whenever he's home"

"'s fine" he mumbled, a brief pause hung in the air as you both took your first sips of tea. You were right, it was good.

"where they at anyway?" Simon tried to fill the silence

"probably giggling under the covers by now" you scoffed "why? trying to get rid of me?" you joked

"'s not it" Simon answered quickly

"I know I know- I'm just teasing" you smirk "Johnny told me you were a bit quiet so don't feel pressured to talk 'er anything"

He appreciated the sentiment, but not talking to you was possibly the last thing he wanted to do right now. "What else does the little twat say?" Simon asked, a little gruffer than he intended to sound, but his reputation was on the line here.

"Oh just stories from all the dangerous stuff you all get up to, usually the ones where he can say he was the hero" you fully laughed and it sounded like music to Simon's ears "That and he complains about all the work he has to do, usually when he wants to get out of chores"

"sounds 'bout right" Simon smiled lightly and you could have sworn it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

At least you didn't think he was some sulking, menacing, edge-lord. I mean he most certainly was most times but he would really prefer it if you didn't think of him like that. Now he just had one more thing to clear up.

"jus' so ya know... I- I didn't use your body wash" he practically had to shove the words out of his mouth he was so tense, but to his surprise you just laughed.

You smiled brightly and waved your hand dismissively, "Don't worry I didn't think you had, I don't blame you for not finding his soap though" you held your mug close to your chest and smiled fondly "He used to use that Head and Shoulder's stuff, you know the one? Anyway, it was nasty so I got him some better stuff and he actually likes it, even if he complains he smells 'like a chick' now" you put that last part in air quotes.

"fair", the soap Simon used on base was Head and Shoulder's. He made a mental note to throw it out and get better stuff the second he got back.

Conversation flowed freely for the next couple minutes as you both finished your drinks, you mostly asked about what it was like living on a military base and he asked about a bit about your graduate studies. Happy just to learn anything about you. When you set your empty mug down on the kitchen counter, he silently glided over with his own and took your mug in his other hand, filling them with water in the sink.

"you really don't have to do that, but thank you" you smiled softly, a yawn escaped you, feeling the tiredness begin to catch up with you.

"don't mind it" he dried his hands off with the kitchen towel. When he looked back at you his heart swelled. you were smiling lightly in the dimly lit kitchen, eyes squinting from even that being too much light. You swayed back and forth slowly, heading nodding slightly every couple of moments. He felt bad for keeping you up but more than that he wished he could just pick you up and whisk you off to bed, curling up next you you and letting you snuggle into his chest. But there was no way he could do something like that, not now anyway, so he settled for the next option

"you look like you're about to fall over love, off to bed now" he said, his voice quiet and gentle as patted you on the back and steered you towards your room.

"aye aye captain" you lazily saluted him and he couldn't help but smile "let me know if ya need anything" you called from the hall "night!"

"yeah g'night" he groaned, shoving himself onto the couch that was much too small for him. He would rather freeze than make you get up to get him another blanket or something. And even though he felt perfectly comfortable he couldn't seem to get to sleep, his heart was just too loud.

*I might make Price come over to give the boys something they left behind just so he can meet/flirt with reader and Simon and get all grumpy and jealous cuz it would be cute <3

Tags:

@sleep101 @urbimom @noisydelusionlove @plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis @jenlvr01 @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno @nina-from-317 @strawberrygateau @leryg0 @weemansoap @dreamtofus @imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona

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moonydustx · 6 months ago

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Thought for the day - I believe there are two types of boys in One Piece in their relationships with girls, let me explain.

There are those where, outsiders, would never say that the two of you are in a relationship. You walk steps apart, exchanging only the essentials of words between you. However, anyone who looked closely could see that many times, some favors were done just for you, that his eyes always seemed to follow you at every step, protecting you even from afar. It was the type of situation in which the person who dared to mess with you would barely know where the blow would come from. However, when the two of you are alone, prepare for a clingy pair. He loves to make up for all the moments away when it's just the two of you - he holds you in bed for a few more minutes, stealing several kisses before facing the reality of the day, he always offers to accompany you on your explorations, just so he can drag you to hidden places in the city and enjoy the time alone, he will love you (aka fuck) as if that were the last night he would have you in their bed, after all, the next day, you both would just be crewmates again.

Law, Zoro, Marco, Killer, Katakuri, Mihawk, Smoker, Rob Lucci, Sabo (u can't tell me this loverboy wouldn't be the clingest guy in the alone time)

These people practically have your name tied to their existence. He don't exist without remembering your name immediately, accompanied by a smile, after all, anyone who saw - even if they didn't know you two - would know that you were made for each other - even if you are copies of each other's personality or are completely the opposite - you spark something in him that is sharp. They are super protective, yes, but they don't need to worry about following you far away, they know that no one would have enough balls to mess with his girl. Whenever they got into trouble, they immediately asked you for help after all you were one of the people he trusted most. With everyone already knowing about the two of you, he didn't need to make an effort to hide something, whether when he walked hand in hand with you, when he took the lead and asked who dared to interfere with their partner, or when they took advantage of any time free to love you (again, aka fuck) in a messy way, leaving marks and not sparing the noise. After all, everyone already knew that you belonged together.

Luffy, Crocodile, Ace, Kid, Sanji, Katakuri (he can be both versions, I'm sorry whoever disagrees), Franky, Shanks, Rayleigh, Buggy, Sabo (again, this sweetie fits for any side here)

a/n: I don't think anyone was missing, but if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them here

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writerpeach · 8 months ago

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Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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oepionie · 2 years ago

Text

— "THE PRINCESS TREATMENT." various

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend and the different ways he pampers and spoils you rotten ♡

⊹ [ cw ] — mentions of winter storms, prefect is implied to have bad living conditions, mild violence in the tweels parts, jade breaks someone's wrist, crowley slander, ace slander◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY! feminine reader! no gendered pronouns used, riddle uses his dorm position to spoil you, seeing trey driving is very hot, deuce biceps, leona and azul sugar daddy era, ruggie would rather freeze to death than have you be cold, jack carries you, jade and floyd will fight for you, rook makes you his muse and paints you, malleus renovates the entire diasomnia dorm for you, sebek carries your pink handbags◞

⊹ [ characters ] — riddle, trey, deuce, leona, ruggie, jack, azul, jade, floyd, rook, malleus, sebek◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 4.9k+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

—♰ RIDDLE

Princess treatment, Like—literally

Loathe is Riddle to admit—He can't deny the fact that being his lover meant you got special treatment. Prime example being your position at unbirthday parties. At the banquet table, just beside Riddle's designated throne, was your throne. Similar in style, it had a heart-shaped crest and golden frame; the only difference was that it was milky white rather than deep red. And despite his best efforts to downplay the favoritism shown to you, Riddle knows for a fact that he had the throne commissioned himself.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Come with me." The dorm leader says as he moves towards you, leading you towards your throne. He didn't fail to notice how your legs shook slightly as you walked alongside him or how your hands didn’t leave his coat once. Not that he minded.

The redhead clasped your hands in his as he sat you down onto the leather seat before adjusting the train of your dress to ensure that it wouldn't bother you.

"How are you fairing?" Riddle asked softly, kneeling before you to slip a leather-clad hand behind your knees. He set your feet up on a plush stool and slipped your pointed heels off, gently caressing your ankles. "I overheard you earlier, griping about your feet aching. I certainly hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

"Ah, no. I just chose the wrong heels today. They're too pointy." You sighed, poking at your crimson red heels, which were discarded to the grassy sides. Groaning, you reclined back on your throne, the billowing, fluffy skirt of the dress Riddle had recently gifted tumbling all about you.

"I see." Riddle nodded in understanding, taking your hand and pressing a quick gentlemanly kiss on your wrists. "The croquet game is up next. I suppose you'd rather stay here?"

"Yeah, I think I need some alone time," you sigh. Riddle squeezes once more your hand in reply, letting his eyes shut in contemplation.

"Very well," He hums, moving to gently tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. "Do rest here a while, rose."

There was a soft smile as the leather of his hands glide across your back. "Oh, and, please let a member of my dorm know if you ever need anything. Worry not. I've instructed everyone here to be at your beck and call."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ TREY

Passenger princess treatment<3

Every weekend, it was routine for Trey to whisk you away from your beaten-up dorm. After all, he was sure it was nice to spend the day in a place where you weren't inhaling dust and spiders every second. Both of you would always go over to his parent's café in the city for a simple little brunch date. And without fail, Trey would always pick you up at 9am sharp by the school gates.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"… I was made for lovin' you, baby

You were made for lovin' me

And I can't get enough of you, baby

Can you get enough of me?"

Soft music played from the car's radio as the third-year weaved through the barren intersections, careful and slow. It seems as if the roads were merciful to you both today, calm and free of any traffic.

Trey languidly reaches one of his hands, calloused from his years of baking, over to rest gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs soft circles and nonsensical patterns over your plump skin while the other gripped the steering wheel in a loose hold, biceps flexing as he twisted the wheel to turn the car.

Focused as he was, you didn't miss how his gaze flits back and forth between the road and you, the expression swimming within them almost akin to a distant longing.

You place your hand atop his and lean against the passenger door. A wide grin spreads over your glossy red lips as you shake your head playfully. "Keep your eyes on the road."

Mirthful laughter spills from your mouth before your eyes flutter shut as you sway along to the song, mindlessly kicking your legs around. "Crashing and going to the hospital doesn't really sound like a good date idea."

A pensive smile creeps up on Trey's face, and he lets out a low chuckle. "Yeah? I just can't help it. You're a much more interesting sight."

He watched as the sun's dazzling light bathed your image in a beautiful, pleasant glow. To him, you looked ethereal, seemingly glowing and shining under the golden streaks of sunlight that pour through the windshield.

"What did I just say?" you sighed, smiling cheekily as you smoothed a hand over his clover-colored hair, fixing the stray strands moved askew by the wind from the open windows. "Hello~? Wonderland to Trey? Eyes on the road?"

He paused for a while before chuckling, his hands splaying out on the steering wheel as he turned his gaze back front. "Right, right. I'll be careful, princess."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ DEUCE

Carries your things for you and will not let you do any heavy lifting at all plus he buys you drinks!

Screw Crowley Dire. You were sick of Ramshackle's awful, scratchy furniture. For once, you wished you could sit on something that wasn't littered with dust bunnies or looked like it came straight from the depths of the underworld—no offense to Idia. And so, using the money you had painstakingly saved over the last six months, you decided to buy a cute, frilly sofa.

Problem was—you couldn't lift it at all. It was too wide and heavy for your poor untrained arms. Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was more than happy to help ^^

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Um…Deuce? Are you sure you don't want me to work?" Perched atop the kitchen counters, you were worriedly staring down at him.

While he was preoccupied with lifting the couch, you were lazily sipping on a bubble tea—a drink which he bought for you himself. Humming, you let your gaze move from the soft line of his cheekbone, to the sharper cut of his jaw, before resting it onto the thick of his arms. " I don't mind helping, you know."

Deuce was standing by the door, arms tucked beneath the couch as he braced himself for lifting. "Yeah, I got this. Don't worry."

Now, why was he here, exactly? Well…First off, you didn't intend to call him at all.

In the middle of trying to haul your couch into Ramshackle's entrance, Deuce had appeared out of nowhere, offering his help. Despite your vehement denial, the stubborn boy wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually forced you to sit down, shoving the bright, bubbly drink in your hand without saying a word.

So, here you were. Shamelessly ogling at him while he tried to find a way to bring the couch in.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt—Oh!" You gasped, hand flying up to cover your agape mouth when Deuce easily lifted it up as if it were made of air. In response to your expression of astonishment, he grinned and playfully flexed his arms. "See?"

While Deuce set the couch down in front of the TV, you slipped off the counters and strode over to him. Jumping into his embrace, you draped your arms around his shoulder and pressed a big kiss on his cheeks, watching in delight as his face exploded in pink. "You're so strong! Thank you so much!"

Deuce let a wobbly smile stretch across his burning cheeks, his hands slack atop your hips. "Y-Yeah! No problem."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ LEONA

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 + Hints at passenger princess treatment

Leona Kingscholar was not a romantic. Naturally, he has stayed to himself ever since he was little. This lion was not the kind to be sentimental, gooey, or emotional. So it is astonishing how quickly this stone-cold personality of his breaks down when he's around you.

Every little thing you do drives him into a lovesick frenzy, and he has no idea how to stop it. He wasn't particularly into grand displays of affection or romantic gestures. Ergo, in an effort to express his adoration, he turns to more…costly methods.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Tell me what you want." Leona demands, tone serious as he wraps a rough yet protective arm around your hips. Both of you were standing smack dab in the middle of a large shopping mall. Though the more you stood here, the more you began to realize that this place wasn't really your…ordinary mall.

First and foremost, when Leona pulled up, there was private parking, and that was already intimidating to you in and of itself. Second, it seems like every single store in here was a luxury brand. You've seen a couple of these logos plastered onto the tags of Vil's or Jade and Floyd's clothes.

As a matter of fact, you were pretty sure their plastic bags cost more than your entire yearly allowance combined.

"Ah, um…" A nervous sweat built up on your brow as you fished your wallet out, peering into what little funds you had. "Leona, honey—I just needed to get some school supplies…Is there a different mall we can go to?" You sheepishly smiled up at him. "I don't think I can afford to get anything here."

Silence immediately follows as Leona stares at you with a dumbfounded look. Blinking bluntly, he scoffs. "Who said you were paying?"

"Hu-Huh?" You stammered, fiddling with your wallet. The lion's eyes were ripped wide open in shock, as if the mere thought of you spending your own money on your own things was a criminal act. Something so ludicrous that even a person with his deceptive persona finds it distasteful.

"Ain't it obvious already? I'm paying," Leona huffs, dragging you to a nearby jewelry shop. Behind the glass were displays of glittering pearls and jewels, each of which had delicate and intricate carvings. "And we're gettin' more than stationary."

"But-!" You start, only to get interrupted as his calloused hand clamps over your mouth.

"No buts."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ RUGGIE

Giving you his coat when you're cold and just being sickeningly sweet<3

Ruggie was used to working for others, and this habit of his pours over to you. Though it wouldn't take long for people to notice that his acts of labor was…different with you.

For others, Ruggie works because there's an exchange, a benefit, or a payment for him. For you, however, he does things with no motive in mind. He would never ask for more because he genuinely didn't need anything more, and if he ever did, a simple kiss or hug from you would be plenty.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

It was a frigid winter day and both of you were walking to school together, a routine you both developed over the past few months. As you followed him through the deep snowfall, the cold wind nipped and bit at your skin, making you shudder. Despite the struggle, you push on, the rough pads of your boots dragging along the thick blankets of snow.

Unfortunately for you, the flimsy cardigan you bought at Sam's did nothing to keep your body safe from the cruel winter.

While Ruggie's oversized warm coat helps kept him sufficiently warmed up, you, on the other hand, are struggling. You know you should have gotten a thicker coat, but this was all you could afford last minute.

Ever so caring, your boyfriend is quick to notice this and turns back around, trudging through the snow to meet you.

"C'mere," Ruggie drags you into his embrace and starts to slowly inch the coat off his shoulders. With your form now pushed against his body, he takes the chance to press a soft kiss against your cheeks. At the exchange of affection, both of you erupt in soft giggles, lovesick grins stretched across your lips.

The moment feels intimate, loving, and safe.

"Here ya' go." Suddenly he's engulfing you in his thick cloak and zipping it up. Protesting, you try to give it back, but all he does is snicker and shake his head. He peppers warm kisses on the side of your bare frostbitten neck, relishing in the giggles that spill from your lips. "Keep it. I can handle the cold. I'm used to it but I can't have you freezin' out here, now can I?"

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ JACK

Carries you when your feet start to hurt, tee hee

Jack was strong and well-disciplined. He's worked hard and trained himself to peak physical condition, yet even then, he's continually seeking to improve himself even more. He's tried it all: fitness routines, weight lifting, and sports. And it pays off.

His strength has proven useful in a variety of circumstances. from physical education classes, sporting events, marathons, and, strangely enough, carrying you when your heels begin to hurt your feet.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Jack looks around the booths as he takes your hands in his, pulling you along the festival crowds, "Hm. I think the takoyaki stand is around here. You were craving that earlier, right?" If it weren't for the intense dull ache at the bottom of your ankles, you would have been delighted to hear about the delectable octopus snack.

Instead, you hissed and pulled on the beastman's hand, halting to a stop, unable to take the torture of your heels any longer. "Jack, hold on a second."

Groaning, you slouch down on a nearby bench and kick off your heels, scowling at the dull throb that's pressing itself against the back of your foot. Jack quickly knelt down by your side, ears alert and tail swishing.

"What's wrong?" He questions as he drags your legs over to rest on top of his firm thighs. "Do your feet hurt?"

"Yeah," you sigh. "I kinda regret putting on heels at a festival like this…I didn't realize it would hurt so bad. I just wanted to look cute."

The wolf ponders for a moment before swiftly turning around, presenting his back to you, "Get on."

"Eh?" You blinked, tilting your head to the side. Jack looks away, keeping his head tilted to the ground as a dark flush swept over his skin. "I'll carry you…I-If your feet hurt, I won't mind carrying you."

"Oh!" Smiling, you slip onto his back and wrap your arms snug around his neck. Jack clutches your heels in one hand while the other grasps onto your thigh. The beastman easily stands up, supporting both his and your weight as he heads towards the food stands.

"Who knew you were such a softie, Jack! Hehe." You tease, pressing a kiss against the side of his neck. The beastman flushed even more, avoiding your gaze at all cost.

"Tch. I-I don't go around doing this for anyone."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ AZUL

Sugar dad-I mean-financial help<3 #2

Azul lived to spoil you.

For you, the octo-mer gleefully buys mountains of clothing. Your entire wardrobe has been thoughtfully planned by him (and often rapidly purchased, Floyd is always the victim to his 12am shopping whims).

Other than clothing, he's also quite fond of jewelry. He clasps pure pearls to your ears, drapes diamonds over your neck, and slips rings onto your fingers. It would be the highlight of Azul's day to see the items he had purchased for you proudly displayed for all the students on campus to see.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shall we?" he asks softly as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you up from your chair. The smooth white silk of your dress cascades off the plush leather seat, draping down to your ankles. Azul swiftly guides you away from the lounge, signaling at both Floyd and Jade in the corner to clean up before turning his attention back to you, once more. "I hope the food was to your liking, angelfish?"

"Oh, it was," you confirm, a smile playing on your lips. Leaning up, you press a warm kiss against his lips, one which he returns. "Thank you for the wonderful night, Azul! The dress as well. It looks beautiful."

"Why, of course." The octo-mer hums, running his hand up your back. As he slips both of you into his room, he shuts the door with his foot and guides you to his vanity. "Though I do have one last gift."

"Another?" You chuckle, "Don't you think you spoil me too much? I don't want it to seem like I'm leeching off of you…"

"No, you could never," Azul says as he motions you to a seat near the table of his vanity. The octo-mer reaches over and opens a drawer, revealing a nice velvet box.

As the box is opened, a gorgeous sea-glass necklace with a stunning silver-coral colour is exhibited to you. It sat prettily atop a white plush pillow, winking at you. Azul deftly runs a hand up your neck to pull your hair back and your lips parts in a "o" when he clasps it on.

"Azul," you breathlessly murmur. "I can't possibly—This must have cost a fortune."

"It's for you," Azul smiles. "Only for you."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ JADE

You have scary eel privileges'

It was not uncommon for Jade to come knocking at your door in opportune times of the night to accompany you out for a walk. You mentioned once how you loved stargazing and Jade hasn't let that go since. For he too had always carried a fondness for the night, more specifically, the moon.

It was constant, a repetitive lustrous cycle, and despite his thrill seeking nature, he took comfort in its consistency. Walks with you were the highlight of his week, and he certainly does not take interruptions from pesky little bugs lightly.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

The night sky above Ramshackle was littered with painted specs of sparkling stars, burning brightly amidst the gradients of blue and black. Jade had a firm hand situated by the small of your back, gently guiding you along the dirt path of the trail.

"It's so beautiful…" You murmur in astonishment, craning your head up to peer up at the canvas of stars. Chuckling, Jade tugs you in closer to slip his large jacket over your shoulders. "I'm glad you like it, pearl. I do hope it's not too cold?"

"Not at all."

Both of you continue along your hike, going deeper and deeper into the thick, dense forest. As you trudged on, a bundle of wild mushrooms caught your eye and you halted to a stop, recognizing the patterns and spots on the fungi in a book Jade had once shown you.

"Wait here a moment. I just saw those mushrooms you wanted so bad. I'll go get it!" Before Jade could even reply, you were already off, sneaking past tall bushes and prickly trees.

Just as you were about to pick your first mushroom, a low growl interrupts you. Freezing, your eyes dart upward to see a Savanaclaw student towering over your form.

He did not seem happy.

"Oya? You're that Ramshackle punk, aren't you?…I have to say, Leona let you off real easy after that little spy mission you did in our dorm." He sneers, rolling the joints of his shoulders and moving closer, backing you up against a tree. "That's all good with me…Cuz' If he won't do something bout' it, then I will."

Suddenly, he was drawing his fist back, aiming for you. The sudden shift happened so quickly that all you could do was flinch and hunch over, preparing yourself for a hit.

Only for it to never come.

"My, my," a familiar voice muses. Breath hitching in your throat, you peek up and see Jade looming behind the boy. The eel's hand was coiled tight around the beastman's wrist, clasping tighter and tighter until there was a sickening snap.

"How foolish of you to think I would allow that."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ FLOYD

You have scary eel privileges' #2

Floyd was a lot softer and caring than a lot of people would give him credit for. That or he just gives you special treatment. After all, the big bad eel found you endearing. You were his one and only beloved little shrimpy.

You were the one who stood by him even when others dismissed him as strange or frightful because you loved and adored him wholeheartedly. So, he can't help but be protective of you.

Nothing will ever hurt you so long as he's by your side.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"Shrimpy? What're you doing here?"

Sniffles and cries wreck your chest as you curled up on Floyd's bed, clutching his shrimp plush tight in your arms. Said eel was standing by the door, a look of shock plastered onto his features before it turned ice-cold as he approached your weeping form.

"My poor shrimpy…" Floyd rasps, tugging off his gloves to cup your wet cheeks with his big hands. "What's wrong with my shrimpy? Did someone do this? I'll squeeze 'em if they did."

The eel crawls into bed with you, tugging the plush out of your arms and slipping himself into your embrace. Soft warm kisses are peppered on your wet cheeks as Floyd coos at you.

Sobbing, you raise a hand to furiously wipe at your eyes before exclaiming, "It's Grim again! Why does he have to be so difficult?! I worked so hard for my alchemy exam, but it seems like he doesn't care! He's brought our grades down again!"

"It's that cat of yours again, huh?" Floyd clicked his tongue, thumb pressing against the corner of your teary eyes. He pressed a warm palm to your cheek, examining your face with close inspection as he slowly reached for your hand and set it down atop his beating heart. "No worries. Just let it all out, shrimpy. I'll have a talk with the baby seal later hehe~"

You sniffed and brushed his comments aside as you pulled away from the embrace, an action which made him pout. "…I'm not sure he'd even listen. Grim is as stubborn as a rock."

"We'll see about that, shrimpy." Floyd scoffs, a frown on his face clearly visible as he pulls you closer once more.

"Yanno, I'm pretty good at alchemy myself." Floyd chirps, a dark grin slowly stretching across his cheeks. "I'm sure the baby seal won't mind having a private tutor session with good ol' me."

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ ROOK

This man WORSHIPS the ground you walk on.

As they say, "Before you die, experience the love of a writer, poet or painter. If you're lucky enough to be an artist's muse, they will immortalize you." Such a muse you were to Rook.

Though it would take quite a lot of coaxing before he could have the pleasure of having you as his muse, at the rare moments you did agree—Rook did his utmost best to do you justice on the canvas.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Portraiture looked into the life of the subject, revealed what was hidden deep inside, and examined it. With his hunter-like manner, Rook was all too acquainted with this study.

"A-Am I doing this right?" You murmur, trying your best not to move around as you held a bouquet of daisies up to your chest. There was a cream-tinted dress draped across your body as you reclined against the backdrop Rook had set up.

"Oui. Such beauty in your gaze, trickster. Angels lurk behind your eyes." The hunter flirts, resolute gazed locked onto your flustered ones as he drags his brush against the palette. There was an experiment with the hues for a time before he blended a few other colors.

"I cannot thank you enough for allowing me to do this." As he'd found the color he wanted, Rook turned back to you. He took careful note of every nuance and detail of your glowing visage and committed as much as he could to memory. Rook knew he’d have to make your portrait perfect. He simply couldn’t allow for anything else.

"You're very persistent," you huff with a small smile on your face. "I had to cave in eventually, huh?"

"But, of course!" Rook cheekily grins, turning his attention back to the canvas. "I can't let a chance like this pass me by."

Time passed and layers upon layers of color came together to form the picture he sought after. Out to the right, spread across a lush sofa, was your incandescent form. And he surely didn't hold back on the details. The creases in the fabric, the curve of your smile, and the contours of the plush pillows scattered on either side of the plush crimson sofa all draw the eye.

It was a large painting that he had boldly placed in Pomefiore's living room, much to Vil's chagrin. Try as he might, the dormleader couldn't get the hunter to remove it at all.

───────────────────── · ·

— ♰ MALLEUS

Princess treatment? pff. That's cute. No, it's queen treatment to him.

You had a bad tendency of rambling on about whatever that came to mind, often without realising that another person was in the same room as you. Even if you initially didn't mind this little quirk of yours, recent events have made you realise that you should probably curb your mouth-running.

Even more so considering that your partner, caring as he was, had a tendency to be quite…impulsive. Especially when it comes to matters concerning your comfort and well-being.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

Malleus was flipping through a catalogue of colour samples and scrutinizing each texture with careful judgment. Slipping the page into your hands, he murmurs, "This is all rather lovely. Perhaps a dark crimson will suffice. Or would you like this wine red dye, my dear?" The dragon looked at you, patiently awaiting your response.

Only for there to be none.

You stood awkwardly at his side, your cheeks flaming up with shame. Tugging at his coat, you rose up on your tiptoes and whispered quietly, "Tsunotaro…when I whined about it being cold, I didn't mean for you to go this far."

"Oh?" He quirks a brow up, "Do you not like these colors?"

"Mal," you utter gently, handing the catalogue back to him. "I don't really think we need to—"

"Young Master. If I may," Sebek interrupts, voice raising to a strained high squeak, "Please do tell. Why are we replacing every.single marble floor in the dorm…with carpet?"

Malleus draws you in his arms, all while ignoring the enraged stare painted on Sebek's face. "My darling's feet become frigid cold when they walk along the marble flooring. I think it's due time for it to get redone," he says while running his hands tenderly up your back and gazing at you with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Sebek blinks, a strained smile sneaking up on his cheeks, "Well. I'm sure they can use slippers—"

"Nonsense." Malleus snarls, eyes flashing a luminous green. "How dare you even think of subjecting them to such a ludicrous act. Hmph. Using…slippers—How preposterous."

"No. I think my way is much better." Shaking his head, Malleus turns back to the catalogue—paying no mind to the grief-stricken look on his retainer's face. "Now dearest, do you think burgundy would look good in the kitchen?"

───────────────────── · ·

—♰ SEBEK

Carries your sparkly pink purses for you, slay king<3

Sebek was not a fool. The fae was well aware he could be a bit…much at times. And even if he doesn't express it, he really values your nearly infinite patience with him.

The boy was awkward at affection, and this is especially highlighted when it comes to anything involving romantic gestures. Even though your snappy crocodile was hard-headed and stubborn at times, he still showed you how much he cared in his own little ways. Even if it were something as simple as carrying your sparkly pink bag around the campus.

꒰‧₊˚⚗️☆༉‧₊˚.

"You ought to have known better than to jest so lightly about Diasomnia that way!" Sebek barks out, a leather-clad finger digging deep into Ace's chest. However, as opposed to being upset as Sebek had anticipated, the ginger chortles, muffled giggles sneaking past his clamped up lips.

"Sebek, buddy." Ace wheezes out, shoulders shaking from the strain of his suppressed laughter. "It's kinda hard to take you seriously…wh-when you have that."

The Heartslabyul runt gestures towards your designer purse, which was snugly resting against Sebek's bicep, slung over his shoulder.

It was quite the eye-catcher. The sparkling pink diamonds of its handle twinkled a bright brilliant white, so bright in fact that it was almost blinding.

Epel takes notice of the logo and crocodile keychain attached to it and he perks up.

"Oh, it's one of those girly-lookin' designer bags Vil is always yappin' about," Epel points out, squinting his eyes to get a better look at it. "Ain't that the prefect's bag?"

Unfazed by Ace's mocking, Sebek scoffs arrogantly, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Indeed, it is. As a knight-in-training, it is only right for me to possess the quality of a gentleman. Chivalrous acts like this are nothing to be ashamed of." He abruptly snapped his head over to glower at Ace, who was sitting rather comfortably in the cafeteria bench, crossing one leg over the over as he met Sebek's irritated stare. "Not that I anticipate someone like you to ever have experience with it.."

Sebek then rose from the table and strode boldly in the direction of your classroom, the pink bag swinging with each heavy step he took. Epel was leaning over the table, placing a shaky hand on Ace's shoulder as loud laughter racked through his body.

"Darn' right," Epel cackles, wiping the tears away from his eyes before turning to the ginger. "Nice ta' see someone still has sum chivalry…Unlike you, Ace."

The ginger visibly deflates, rolling his eyes as he mutters, "Yeah, yeah. We get it. He's down bad."

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wintrwinchestr · 7 months ago

Text

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on.

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression.

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand.

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it.

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state.

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap.

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows.

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you.

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lave your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches.

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against.

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can.

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain.

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…”

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is.

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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bolognamayhem117 · 7 months ago

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Hot Take: Astarion does NOT hate flowers. You just missed a few subtle hints through Act 1 and early Act 3.

Astarion's negativity is directed toward just about anything remotely pleasant as you move through early act three, starting the moment you leave Wyrm's Rock. First thing after Gortash's coronation he marvels near tears at the colors of the city in daylight. If you ask if he's alright, it pisses him off.

There's other instances I can't quite remember but he's a straight crank throughout early Act 3 and it took me several hours of gameplay to have a lightbulb moment about his newly crappier attitude.

He just spent the last two hundred years seeing everything in the overwhelmingly warm dim tones of indoor lighting via sconces, rushlights, and braziers, or the dingy blue gray of moonlight outside. Daylight colors are something he had more than a lifetime to forget and now that he has a chance to remember that vibrancy in his own home town, he knows he's going to have to forget it all over again either by death or by remaining a vampire spawn forever. The worm isn't going to live rent free in his head forever, and killing Cazador to ascend in his place likely feels like an insurmountable and impossible fight against a literal titan who could stomp him flat without a corm of effort.

He doesn't hate flowers, he hates EVERYTHING right now because it's all going away very soon and if he convinces himself he hates everything then he won't miss it when it's all gone again. He was denied this for two hundred years and he's PISSED at what was stolen from him and PISSED it's all going away again.

He behaved similarly in Act 1 about anyone besides him enjoying physical intimacy. Some of this content was cut, to my best knowledge, but the overwhelming majority of his dialog addressing the PC romancing anyone but him are negative or backhanded. This is for two reasons, I think. A: his Simple Plan just dissolved right before his eyes when you chose someone else which in his mind means he has zero safety net, and EVERYONE gets to enjoy sex (key wording being ENJOY, not simply having) except him... And it pisses him off.

He also gleefully interrupts the bug bear and the ogress, I think for the same reason as the above paragraph, being: If he doesn't get to enjoy intimacy neither do they.

He reacts with anger and disgust at anything he's being unfairly denied. Which... That's fair. His feelings are valid, but his reaction to it is pretty shitty and meanspirited.

The other companions I tend to keep in my party, (that is Lae'zel, Halsin, Karlach, and Wyll) however, are actually appearing to behave pretty patiently with him in Act 3 which I find interesting.

In the instance with the flowers Karlach doesn't bother trying to convince him otherwise of his opinion, she just tells him how they make her feel instead and rather than getting snippy or doubling down he more or less agrees to disagree. I also don't recall anyone disagreeing with Astarion during Gale's last quest tasks when he mentioned that he quit praying to gods who wouldn't hear him a long time ago but to be fair, I think the gods did everybody in this crew dirty and they all know it. It seems like they're consciously giving him the space to be mad about things, is what I'm saying.

Everyone I know including myself who crawled out of a long-term hot garbage situation kinda went wild for a bit with freedom, spoke poorly, behaved strangely, had extreme emotional reactions to things, and made some particularly terrible choices. I think that's just a part of recalibrating yourself, healing and learning how to be okay again.

Point is, I wouldn't conflate too many of the turbo-negative things he says with how he actually feels about anything. We certainly know what he says and what he feels are two very different things.

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #trauma #the pale elf #cazador szarr

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eff4freddie · 4 months ago

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Play With It

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader

Explicit - Minors DNI

Your busy schedules have meant you just can't get it together, and you're starting to miss each other. Joel is finding it particularly...hard.

(AU no outbreak)

Warnings: Just some good old PWP, smut, phone sex, Joel is a menace, dirty talk, praise kink, Joel talks you through it, kind of soft pleasure-dom vibes? Please tell me if you like this, if you can't already tell I also have a praise kink, love me damnit

Words: 3.5k

NEW! Sequel - Play With Her

You just kept missing each other – literally and figuratively. If you had a late shift at the hospital, Joel had an early start on the site. If you got home to make dinner, Joel was working late. If you both managed to get home at roughly the same time, you lay on the couch next to each other in sweats and barely scraped the energy together to turn the TV off for bedtime. Your schedules were just out of whack. It happened.

But you were missing him. The fold of his crow’s feet when he smiled, the gentle little huff of effort when he bent down on his bad knee to pick up a fallen utensil, his heat behind you in bed, enveloping you and soothing your frazzled, jangling nerves. Your hindbrain was struggling to soothe itself without the weight of his body on yours. You were unmoored.

This morning was no different – you’d come home late, past midnight, tiptoeing up the stairs and slipping under the covers as gently as possible, knowing he had an early start. You were tired to the bone anyway, your knees aching from hours upon hours striding up and down hospital corridors.

You could sleep in, at least, until 10 AM the next morning. It was the one solace as you drifted off, pushing yourself against Joel’s back and winding your hands around his chest. All of this work the both of you were doing was for your future, for yours and his and Sarah’s. Within a year you should have scraped up enough for a deposit on a house. It would be worth it, even if you ached for him.

Your phone woke you, and you cracked an eye to try and gauge the time. You determined it to be half-past too early. You let it ring out. If it was important they’d leave a message.

A minute later it rang again and you fumbled for it on your bedside table just to silence it, seeing as you lifted it that it was Joel. A little scalpel of panic sliced at your insides. He never called twice unless it was important, and never during the day. What if he’d had an accident? What if he was hurt?

‘Joel?’ you asked, your voice cotton and sandpaper.

‘Hey, baby,’ he said, his voice calm, gruff, maybe a little frayed around the edges.

‘What’s happening, are you OK?’

‘M’fine, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry ya.’

‘Y’never call twice,’ you muttered, settling back down against your pillow, your eyes closing of their own volition.

‘I needed my girl,’ he said, and you noticed his tone, then, the darkness in it. You let out a little shiver, wrapped up warm and tight in your bed.

‘What are you playin’ at, Joel Miller?’ you asked, and you heard him hum in response.

‘I’m bored at work, baby,’ he said, and you could hear that he was pouting.

‘Surely you can find yourself something to do,’ you said.

‘S’why I’m callin’,’ he replied.

‘Something productive,’ you clarified, and you listened to him huff out a little laugh.

‘Baby?’ he said, his voice back down to burnt honey and salted caramel.

‘Mmm?’ you asked.

‘I wanna watch you play with it.’

Your eyes shot open, gasping. You felt the tangle of want in your belly, little tendrils reaching down your thighs to tug, tease, at your cunt.

‘Joel!’ you scolded, and you heard him snicker. ‘Aren’t you on site?’

‘Found m’self a little quiet place, out of the way.’

You didn’t respond, thoughts obliterated as your traitorous mind replayed his words on repeat in your head. Wanna watch you play with it. Wanna watch you play with it.

‘I’m in the truck, baby,’ he said. ‘Parked way down the back. No one can see, no one can hear.’

You felt the tension in your shoulders release, slightly, but your heart was still racing and you supposed it wasn’t going to stop. Not while you could hear him gearing up to destroy you without even being in the same suburb.

‘She droolin’ for me?’ he asked, his voice gravelly and you could hear the way his breath was shaking, knew that his own pulse was thrumming so hard in his neck it was making it hard for him to breathe out the words to you.

You squirmed, rubbing your thighs together under the sheets. He knew, of course he knew the fucking filthy old man, that you were almost permanently wet for him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you said, and you heard him groan a little, snuffle it down with a bite to his lip.

‘Fuck, baby, been thinkin’ about you all morning. Woke up with you wrapped around me like a fuckin’ koala bear, took all my strength not to roll you over and fuck up into you while you were dreamin’.’

You gasped again, struggling to hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. Joel was so stoic, used his words so carefully in real life, that you could hardly believe your luck when you got him into the bedroom for the first time and he let loose the filthiest stream of consciousness you’d ever heard. He bathed you in his dirty little fantasies, doused you in his furious want for you.

‘Can I see her?’ he asked, and suddenly you were shy.

‘Just woke up, Joel,’ you said in protest, reaching up to smooth your hair without even thinking of it.

‘Love it best first thing,’ he said, ‘when you’re all warm and soft and pliant, let me do whatever I want to ya, keep those sweet warm thighs wrapped around my ears… or my cock buried deep in that sweet little cunt of yours and have you too sleepy to tell me to quit it.’

‘Mmm…quit it,’ you said, stretching, and he snickered.

‘Too late, baby, want you too bad.’

You liked him like this, although you’d never tell him that. Liked him a little bit needy, a little bit cunt drunk, wanting you so bad he had to pull his car out back and see to himself. You sighed. You were going to do it for him, you were always going to do it for him, but sometimes you had to put up a fight just for the appearance of the thing.

‘Please, baby,’ he said, and his words were punctuated with little breathy sighs, now.

‘Wanna see you too,’ you said, bargaining, stalling for time and not sure why.

You heard his voice grow distant as he pulled the phone away from his ear, and you did the same, waiting for facetime to connect.

You held your breath, holding the phone above your face as his ancient phone camera adjusted.

Then there he was, those beautiful brown eyes you could never say to, so soulful and kind and currently blown wide with want. His hair was scruffy like he’d been tugging at it. You giggled a little when you saw him, genuinely pleased.

‘Hey baby,’ he said, grinning at you, and you watched as his dimples emerged.

‘Hi,’ you said, suddenly shy, burying half of your face in your arm.

‘My beautiful girl,’ he muttered as he gazed at you through the phone screen. ‘I’m missing you, baby.’

You nodded, humming your agreement. ‘Miss you too,’ you said.

‘She missin’ me?’ You blushed, your core pulsing the moment he came on the screen. You nodded again. ‘Show me, please, baby,’ he implored. You could never refuse him.

He waited, his eyes bright and watchful, as you positioned yourself onto your back, angling the phone to travel down your body; first the tips of your straining nipples against the light cotton of your singlet (he whimpered at this, especially as you reached down and tweaked one a little), then lifting the cotton to reveal your belly, softening in the years you had known him but confident that he loved it just the same (he cooed at it, and you thought you heard him inform your belly he wanted to nip it and then kiss it better when he got home), then down a little further, your other hand now trailing along with the lens, to the aching heat of your core (you heard his sharp intake of breath as your pussy came into view, still covered by your panties, where the gusset was darkening with your slick. ‘There she is, fuck…’ he trailed off, and you felt your clit throb at the heat in it).

‘Let me have a little peak,’ he said, his voice reverberating around your empty bedroom as it shot out of the speaker on your phone. ‘Somethin’ to get me through the day.’

You giggled, pulling hard on your underwear so that the cotton stretched over your lips, outlining them perfectly for him as he groaned. You ran your fingers over the cotton, pushing and pulling at your lips, teasing yourself as much as you were teasing him.

‘You hard for me, Joel?’ you asked, and you heard his guttural ‘uh-huh’ in response. You slipped a finger under the leg of your panties, pulling them to the side so he could inspect the pink, the slick, of your folds.

‘Oh fuck, baby,’ he said, ‘such a good girl for me.’

You preened under his praise, your clit throbbing as you fought to control your breath, determined not to let him know what he was doing to you, not to let him win. Instead, you pulled your phone back up to your face, grinning at him.

‘Hey, where’d she go?’ he asked, and you laughed.

‘You know exactly where she is.’

‘Want to see her, baby, please,’ he said again, whining now, and you saw his shoulder moving slowly, the flex of his bicep just within view of the camera.

‘Show me what you’re doing to yourself, Joel Miller,’ you said, and he grinned at you, busted. His cheeks were pink, and he was starting to glisten from sweat. You wanted to lick it off him, take the salt of him into your body.

He angled his own phone down, so that you could see he was palming himself through his jeans. He let out a little gasp at one particularly hard tug.

‘Take it out,’ you said, and he tutted, raising the camera back to his face.

‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ he said, and you were up on your knees in an instant, swivelling to prop the phone up against the head of the bed, balancing on a pillow, as you reared back and slipped your underwear from your skin.

You watched as he freed himself, his belt moving aside so he could reach into his pants and pull himself out over his waistband. You felt more slick gather at the top of your thighs as you gazed at it, thick and large and with a vein on the underside you loved to rub along your tongue.

‘Play with it,’ he said, and you hated that you couldn’t gaze at his cock and his face at the same time, resolved to settle for the current view for now, as beads of precum gathered at the tip. You watched as he ran his fist over the shaft, leaving the head. You knew how sensitive it was, that when you sucked on it as you pulled, gently, at his balls he couldn’t help himself but to buck himself up into your throat, grunting your name as though you would bestow him mercy. You hadn’t, yet.

‘With this?’ you asked, teasing your fingers along your glistening cunt, avoiding your clit because you were already too close, wanted to prolong it, see how crazy you could make him.

‘Fuck yeah you know with that,’ he said, his irritation real and adorable, and you grinned.

‘Tell me how,’ you said, feeling your cheeks go hot and remembering that only recently had you built up the guts to tell him you loved it the most when he encouraged you, instructed you, talked you through it.

‘Run your fingers along the outside, gather up the slick,’ he said, and you did, shivering a little both at his words and the gravelly tinge to his voice. You could see his hand trembling as he held himself, the way his cock was flexing, throbbing, for more. ‘Run your fingertip over ya little clit, tight little circles… but not too hard,’ he said, and you groaned when you touched yourself there, your stomach clenching and nearly pitching you forward, the pleasure shooting down into your legs and up into your chest. ‘Nuh uh, too hard,’ he said, and you released the pressure a little. You realised he was going to punish you for teasing him. You realised you were going to let him.

‘She feelin’ good, baby?’

‘Mmhmm’ you breathed, nodding, momentarily incapable of words.

‘I want to watch her stretch,’ he said, and you opened one eye to see that he was now tugging at himself, pulling at the skin of his cock, drooling precum and using it to lubricate the head. He was grunting a little, his breath catching as he fought to keep talking. You smiled to yourself.

‘With my hands?’ you asked, feigning innocence even as you sank down further on your knees so he could get a better view.

‘Just give her one finger f’now, don’t wanna scare her,’ he said, and you nodded. ‘She’s so tight, baby, need to be gentle with my precious little pussy.’

You gasped, rolling your head back to the ceiling as though Jesus himself might save you.

‘Oh, I want it,’ you sighed, not sure what ‘it’ even was.

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he cooed, soothing you even as he tortured you by proxy. ‘Slide one inside, let that little cunt gobble it all up, that’s the way.’ You bucked again, riding your own finger, as you whined. ‘Rub that clit baby, make it easy on her.’

You took your other hand and kept the tight little circles on your clit, whimpering all the same. You raised your eyes to him, realising now he had placed the phone on the dash so you could see his face, the naked heat in his gaze as he watched you, and you gasped at the sight of him, your cunt clenching on your fingers as a bolt of want shot through you at the sight of him.

‘Joel…’ you whimpered, called for him, and his brows furrowed.

‘I know, baby, but you can do it,’ he said, and you keened, speeding up on your clit.

‘It hurts, I want you so bad,’ you complained, and you saw the grin start to emerge on his face before he schooled it, pulled it back down to faux concern for your predicament.

‘My poor girl,’ he said, nodding at you as you saw his shoulder flex, watched as he licked at his lips, trying to stave it off so that he could continue to torture you. ‘Give her one more, let that greedy little cunt have what she wants.’

You could feel tears prickling the back of your eyes, the ache for him in your chest nearly as strong as the ache for him in your core, and you slid another finger in without any resistance, your slick leaking out to pool in your waiting palm.

‘S’good baby?’ he asked, and you nodded, then shook your head, then nodded again.

‘S’better when it’s you,’ you answered, honestly, trying to hook your fingers forward like Joel did but not having the length, not having the angle.

‘Imagine I’m right there behind ya, baby,’ he said, and even as he said it you felt heat bloom on your back. You rolled your head back again, as if his imaginary shoulder could hold it. You were dimly aware that you were swivelling your hips, fucking yourself down onto your hands, as you imagined Joel’s delicious, throbbing cock poking at the small of your back.

You could feel every nerve ending from the tips of your toes to the edge of your tongue singing for him, the sparks combining with the throb of need in your cunt. You couldn’t stop moving, couldn’t stay still, set on fire by the heat of it.

‘Look at me,’ he grunted, but you couldn’t, couldn’t coordinate your movements, couldn’t crack open your eyes, drowning in it, feeling the pull of it slip over your nose and mouth. ‘Look at me while you play with it,’ he said again, louder and a little meaner this time, and you felt yourself react almost purely on instinct, snapping to attention.

He was panting, his own hips shifting as he tugged at himself, sweat gathering now at his brow, the sides of his forehead wet. He was jutting out his bottom lip, jaw flexing as he bared his teeth to you, trying hard to stave off the pleasure while simultaneously being driven mad by it.

‘Look what that sweet little cunt does to me,’ he said, his voice dangerous now, low enough that you found yourself holding your breath. ‘You seein’ this, baby?’

You nodded, almost wanting to apologise for how thoroughly you had deranged him.

‘Such a good girl,’ he praised again, and you felt a shudder of your hips. ‘Can she take one more?’ he asked, and you nodded, without hesitation. He had done that to you, had made you so wet and so wanting, your cunt pounding so soundly now, that you would take anything he instructed you to give yourself. ‘Do it,’ he grunted, and you did, a third finger sliding in to greet the others, a yelp of beautiful agony leaving your lips.

‘Fuck…’ you muttered, breathless, winded with the pleasure. ‘I can’t…’

‘Yes you can, baby, doin’ so good,’ he said, and you were losing yourself to it now, could feel the momentum, that you were nearing the point of no return, that you wouldn’t be able to pull your fingers from your needy, stretched little pussy until you’d come on them, until Joel had made you come.

You tried to bark out a warning, that you were getting too close, that it was about to sweep you away, except that when you opened your eyes to look at him you saw that he was right there with you, that he was sucking in great billows of air to steady himself, that he was panting and sweating and gasping your name, calling for you, his head rocking backwards to the headrest of his truck, overcome by the want for you, only to immediately swing forward again to watch you, to stare at your hands between your thighs on his phone screen, his hard, bulging cock in his hands, ready to burst.

‘Oh!’ you gasped, when you saw the state he was in, and his eyes snapped from your cunt to your face.

‘I know, I know,’ he repeated, fighting for air, ‘I know, I know, I know….’

‘May I?’ you asked, as though you would have been able to hold back, as though you had a choice, and he nodded, releasing you from the torment. You felt it speed up, the peak rising up to meet you, the backdraft scorching a path through your core as it caught you, and you came, hollering for him, whimpering and huffing, shocked at the intensity of it, at the way it obliterated you, whited you out, the sound of Joel’s twin cries nearly drowned by it.

At some point you had collapsed, falling from your knees to your belly on the bed. You could hear Joel, buried somewhere under the pillows, whimpering as he came down from his high, and when you had recovered the strength you fished the phone out and brought it back to your face. He sat, his head thrown back in his truck, as he gathered himself.

‘Christ on a cracker,’ he said, and you giggled. It had been too long. You wanted to do it again.

‘You OK, honey?’ you asked, and you heard him huff out a laugh.

‘Made a damn mess of m’self,’ he said, and you giggled again, little fizzing joy finding your chest. You felt lighter, not having realised how heavy the burden of missing him had been.

‘You got a towel or anything?’ you asked, and he rolled his eyes.

‘No, I don’t have a towel. Didn’t expect to be doing that this morning.’

‘You didn’t plan it?’ you asked, incredulous.

‘Just got overcome,’ he said, his dimples re-emerging as he looked at you, bashful, through the phone.

‘Mmmm,’ you agreed, feeling somewhat overcome yourself.

‘What time’s your shift start tonight?’ he asked, and you felt reality encroach ever so slightly on your happiness.

‘Start my shift at 5,’ you said, and he nodded. You could see the crease in his brow as he concentrated.

‘Fuck it,’ he said, having apparently come to a decision. You watched as he reached forward, turning the engine over, and heard the truck roar to life. ‘Don’t move a muscle,’ he said, putting the truck into gear and reversing out of the lot.

‘Joel, what are you doing?’ you asked, laughing a little at the look of pure determination on his face.

‘You stay right there,’ he said to you, winding down the window and calling out – presumably to his boss – that he was feelin’ poorly and needed to head home.

‘Joel, you can’t leave in the middle of the day,’ you said, and you saw his smile as he totally ignored you.

‘Be there in fifteen minutes,’ he said, pausing for a second to gather his thoughts. ‘You got to play with it,’ he said, picking up the phone and preparing to hang up so he could drive. ‘Now it’s my turn.’

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller the last of us

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