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ievutebebe · 1 month

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HIGHEST BIDDER.

summary: tired of your virginity, you decide to auction it off — but you weren’t thinking it would be leader of the notorious group, onychinus who offers the most money of $10,000,000.

cw// 18+ virginity loss, soft sex, small plot but not really, pet names, slight? knife play, oral, she/her pronouns, choking, finger sucking, praise, dumbification, degradation, slight fingering, corruption kink( if you squint), female guided masturbation (? kinda? idk!), squirting, attempt at aftercare, the twins have a cameo. wc: 5.3k

tagging: @lvminy @kissxcore @sunasbon @preciousamethyst (hope it’s okay to tag you guys 🥹🫶🏾) @satorubi

You could only assume it was Luke or Kieran who had told Sylus where you were and perhaps what you were up to. Or maybe it was that damn crow, who insisted you stayed inside. But really, it didn’t matter who said anything because Sylus was grabbing you before a single hand flew up.

“10 million.” His voice was sharp — a hint of anger, annoyance and frustration on him, it oozed off his body and with the dazzling ruby eyes of him staring everyone down… they got the hint that he was throwing around. He was pissed. Too pissed to hear what anyone else had to say. Power rolled off of him in waves everyday but it was obvious that this day, and this girl and this place was provoking him.

The auctioneer's lips trembled in his presence. “T-ten million going at once.” He awkwardly scanned the room, not a cough of a mumble was heard. “Going twice.” Breads of sweat gathered around his forehead and he swallowed. “Sold!” He exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly in Slyus’ direction, guiding the both of you towards a secluded area.

He scoffed and tightened his grip on your body, it took him little to no effort to hand over his card and in a few seconds the transaction was completed; a portion for them and the bigger sum of the money going to you. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you briefly.

You couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest person ever and perhaps at this moment… you were. Being stuck inside and with nowhere to go most days because of the claims of dangers awaiting you, it was tiring. Plus, you had urges, like anyone else – womanly and carnal urges, desires and fantasies. You couldn’t help yourself when Luke mentioned it in passing and Kieran slapped him on the head telling him to shut up about it; it was simply interesting and something Linkon City would’ve never allowed.

You hated the silence. “Are…are you mad at me?” Walking out of the pale building and to the dark cold outside, moving close to his motorcycle. Looking around you think about how the tenebrific ambience that’s casted over this place, it really wasn’t the same as where you grew up, time moves differently here, almost.

“You went into the N109 Zone alone, potentially putting yourself in danger and you want to know if I’m mad at you?” He speaks with a hard tone, his touch scorching hot against your arm, his touch addicting. “Of all the times to be reckless…” He does a heavy sigh, followed by pinching the bridge of his nose.

He’s handing you a helmet and putting his own, sitting down and waiting for your arms to wrap around his waist before he drives off. The wind rushes through you swiftly and no matter how many times you’re on his motorcycle, you can’t help but to feel fear course through every fiber of your body.

Time always seemed to move faster when you were with him and it moved especially fast being on his motorcycle, he drove dangerously and it always led to you clinging more closer to him than you realized.

Upon making it back, you jumped off the motorcycle and handed him the helmet, shaking your hair to make sure it looked halfway decent.

Stepping back inside of the Headquarters of Onychinus, Luke popped his head around the corner and you mustered up the angriest glare that you could make him cower away. You could hear him and Kieran chattering about something. “No use in being mad at them, you brought this on to yourself.” Sylus told you, ushering you into his room.

You just sighed, sitting with your legs crossed on a singular chair that was near a small table in the room. The air felt more tense and uncomfortable than the other times you were here and you couldn’t help but to think of how for once you wished that Mephisto was here so that you wouldn’t be alone with him, not with this temper he clearly had. “Listen Sylus, it was a stupid thing and I know that—”

Lightening wasn’t as quick as him when he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you. Nothing with him was ever warm and inviting, always hard and even a bit mean but luckily not forceful. His tongue licked at your lips and you complied with no hesitation. His tongue felt hot against your own, it sent flames up your body and you could feel everything in the pit of your stomach and to your throat. When he pulled away, he looked at you and from the way he smirked… you knew you looked out of it. Your eyes alone felt heavy and your knees were wobbling, too weak to stand. With your eyes on his, you watched the dazzling red become harder to look away from.

The voices came strong and with a clear message: “fuck him… fulfill your desires…” they spoke to you and you both loved and hated the throbbing sensation that followed. You wanted to remind yourself that he was an enemy… it was too hard to do when he looked like he did and with a voice as deep and rich, it was almost unbearable. Yes, he was an enemy but you couldn’t lie to yourself; you knew the real reason you went to the auction was to make him jealous. You don’t know what it is about him that makes you react the way it does but it burns inside of you and to your very core.

When the light from his eye dimmed and with rapid blinks you were back and felt more stable. “Your little mind always tells me more than your lips do. If you wanted me… I would’ve given you all of me with no hesitation.” It sounded like a promise and it swayed you, you leaned into his arms. “I can try to be gentle.” He whispered close to you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Sylus,” His name trembles out of your lips. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me…” You squeezed your thighs together. “I want you to make me feel good.” You felt too vulnerable in his presence but the truth slipped from your lips so fast as if you were forced to.

He looked as if something took over him, desire deep in his ruby eyes and you couldn’t look away from him, too turned on. “Take your clothes off.” His husky voice said above you. He didn’t move, just watched you shuffle your clothes off until you were in nothing but your panties; when you moved to take those off, it was then that he stopped you. “I’ll handle the rest.” He assured you before he laid you down — your head on his soft black pillows and your body rigid.

You don’t know where the knife came from until it’s rubbing up your calf and moving its way up to your underwear, the cool metal piercing your skin just barely. Your breathing labored and measured, trying not to show your fear but it was failing you. “Stay still, I would hate to nick your pretty skin.” The knife tickled your thighs when he finally snipped open the front that held your secret possession.

He groaned at the sight, audible and bit his lips to contain himself more. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt. There was a smile so deep on his lips as he spread your lips open for him to see. “You ever touched down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes. “Show me.”

“H-huh?” You stuttered out. “I can’t just…”

“Just show me what you normally do… when you’re all alone… in your room…under the covers.” He says it slowly, letting you absorb every word he says.

You’re bare and can feel just how comfortable his comforter set was. Your cunt wet and inviting but his eyes stay on yours, which makes it harder for you to breathe. “I just kinda just do…” Clumsily you spread your lips and simply slid your fingers around yourself, barely focusing on your clit but already overwhelmed. “But I can’t make myself cum, ‘m too sensitive.” His eyes transfixed on your fingers and pussy as you work yourself, your face contorting between pleasure and something else before you stop, heavily breathing.

“Oh? No wonder you’re so unsatisfied, you don’t know your own body. Good thing I’m here to help.” He’s closer, sitting at the end of the bed yet so close to you. He spreads your legs and you can see a glimpse of excitement dancing in his eyes. He inspects you – stroking up your legs and inching his way up and down your thighs, ignoring how with every touch your breath hitches and your toes curl. “I haven’t even touched you that much and you’re already a mess.” He spreads you; opens you up and closes your folds again completely immersed in the gushy noises that follows.

“This,” Slyus says, spreading your sticky lips apart and his breathing getting heavier. “This is your pretty little clit.” He taps the bud with the rough pads of his fingers. “She sits right here behind these lips.” His fingers are lighting a fire and trailing it around your body. “Open these up again… and this,” you gasp, his fingers sitting right in the spot you never touch. “This twitching little hole? That’s where I’m going to fill you up.�� He chuckles humorously, circling the hole and gathering the leaking wetness there, your hips rising on their own accord before he pulls away.

“Now, your turn.”

“But I—” You’re close to tears, wetness gathered at your lash line daring to fall. “I can’t, I don’t think I can do it like you.” You hated how needy you sounded and how clingy you were being.

“I hardly did anything. Just simple touches, to show you where everything was. Pleasure points that you should follow. Did you want more? Did you like how I touched you, little one?” You couldn’t help but to gasp at the nickname, it filled your body with more wetness and he watched it leak down to his sheets.

Your insides continue to flutter at the name and your face feels hot. “This is what you paid for right? Might as well get your fill from it.” You try to sound bold and intimidating but his demeanor just softens at your attempt.

“As you wish.” He bends down and cups your cheek before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and you can’t help but to squeal a bit at the warmth that his lips bring you. His fingers brush your face before he moves his mouth down to your neck, licking a stripe before sucking on your skin. You can feel his lips curling into a smile at every noise you make. “I could do this all day… but where’s the fun in that? I’m sure you’ll make even better noises when I touch here.” Cupping the palm of his hand and gently slapping it against your core, your back arches and a whiny moan slips out.

“See? So much better.” You hate the smug look on his face, his red eyes radiant in the dim room staring you down makes you self conscious and ready to hide yourself from him. “I’m going to put my fingers right here,” His breath tickling your core. “Then my tongue, okay?”

You just nod…unable to speak, he watches your face and holds his fingers up to your lips.“Put 'em in your mouth for me, get' em all wet…” Your tongue slides between them, saliva spilling out of the corners of your mouth. “Good girl,” he patted your head, ruffling your hair and you couldn’t help the feeling that took over you. Your mind was everywhere yet nowhere, just him… that was all your mind could think of and be consumed with. The praise had your body on a different kind of high.

He uses those same cool wet fingers to open you wider. Slowly dipping inside of you, circling your center and easing inside, making you tighten up. “Don’t clench, just relax. It’ll only hurt more if you do that.” You take a few deep breaths, allowing your chest to fill up and expand before a release. He spreads your lips and he just looks. There’s a hum on his lips before he kisses your clit; full tongue running across the sensitive area. Your back lifts and arches off the bed but putting his hand on your lower stomach – he forces you to take it. There’s a look in his eyes that’s daring you to disobey him and it makes your tummy flutter.

He puts his full tongue against your clit and you try not to move but your body trembles. His fingers draw circles around your thighs, inching closer to your slit. It makes you realize that he was simply distracting you to alleviate the slight pain from when his fingers actually slipped inside. When they did, you gasped aloud. “Sly–us… please.” Your legs threatened to close but you forced yourself to keep them open and it took a lot out of you.

“Good girl.” He muttered, obviously appreciating your efforts. “So tight…” He tries to move his finger but you only flinch and groan, which makes him use two fingers from his opposite hand to rub lazy circles against your clit. That alongside your breathing helps your body relax and brings a lot of ease to you, opening yourself up. He slowly strokes your insides, taking his time to drag it forward and back, slipping it out before bringing it back inside. You can’t help but notice how eyes flicker from your lower half to your face occasionally but you don’t say anything. “Deep breath.” He tells you before he slips another finger in beside the other.

You whine when he moves them both inside of you, your body rocking against his fingers with a circular motion of your hips. He opens them up before closing them again, you grip the sheets. He felt so deep inside of you with just his fingers… the real thing would be different – longer and thicker – you didn’t know if you were ready. “You’re overthinking aren't you? Just focus on how you’re feeling right now.” His eyes are on yours, his fingers curling inside of you so deliciously that you forget to breathe.

When he takes them out, you feel incredibly empty, your hole clenching for more. You're huffing and shaking when you look his way again, he’s opening and closing the two fingers that were inside of you; playing with the slick that was there before he sucks them off. He slips them back inside, sliding them on your inner walls and pressing upwards – the pads of his fingers rubbing circles inside of your soft insides; which makes you squeeze his fingers tight. Rubbing your clit again to soothe you, he slowly curves them as he slips them out – you gasp at the feeling.

He grips your hips and forces you to slide down, his breath knocking the wind out of you when you feel it right by your slit. Your fingers tightly gripping the duvet in anticipation, awaiting his tongue. You gasp when his tongue circles over the hole, nudging there just a bit before he licks up a wet trail; moving back to your clit. He plants a small kiss on the pink throbbing bud, then another before he takes it in his mouth and sucks. His tongue moving around in shapes you can’t make out until you feel the hard S he craves in with his mouth, his head rocking against your legs. When the Y comes, he’s peeling back the hood of your clit and flicking the initial inside rapidly. He slides his face down before he finishes, he pulls your sticky lips apart and dives inside.

The tip of his tongue sliding back and forth achingly and painfully slow, his head shaking to the sides when he licks upwards, curving his tongue to hit a particular spongy spot that makes your thighs shake. Your fingers now dig through his silvery hair, pulling when he does a harsh lick against your core. “Taste so good…” He mumbles, rolling your clit between his tongue.

The obscene noises that you hear comes from his mouth feasting on you – slurping, sucking and even the noises of his own groans. Groans that were akin to a dying man giving his last prayer, his groans were drowning out the sounds of your own moans. “I can’t take it–” Slushing sloppy noises are what drowns out your moans and pleads. “Slyus please…” You can feel your own wetness under your bottom and embarrassment floods through you, and at the right time his nose bumps into your clit and you grind into it more with a huff; nothing but useless babbling coming out of your mouth.

Another lick causes your toes to curl and your body to twist and coil when a leaking orgasm passes through you; which doesn’t stop him from sucking everything that you have to offer.

His hair now disheveled from you tugging and pulling on it — his face sopping wet from your juices and you can’t help but look away from him, he sits completely upwards. “Look at me.” Your eyes back on his, biting your lip before you looked down at the bulge in his pants – it looked so big and your mouth ran dry. It was an accident and unconscious thing but you licked your lips while staring and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “You look really interested in pleasing me.” His brow is arched and his voice low. “This is going to be fun.” He said more to himself than you, standing and unzipping his pants.

You were still completely naked yet he was clothed – almost fully – just his cock sitting out of his pants standing hard and proud against his stomach. This sight before you made you remember who was in power and just how much power you lacked. But wordlessly, you got on your knees. “You want it? Want my cock? ‘Can see how you’re panting for it.” He was truly condescending and knew how to put you in your place, but the way he made you cum made you see nothing but starlight and you wanted to please him.“Come and take what you want sweetie, take what you need.”

You stared – 7 and a half inches of a tanned cock and two firm balls blocked your view of everything else – the tip leaking with white sticky precum dripping down. You trace your tongue up the sides, licking up anything you can to get the taste of him before you kiss the head; then you open your mouth around him and let your teeth run against the sides before you suck him in.

“Watch your teeth, kitten.” His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes, his shoulders growing relaxed, you take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand and give it a few gentle strokes. “And be careful around the— thehead.” He says when your tongue runs a circle around the tip and one wet suck. His face relaxes for a second and you can’t help but to look him over. You knew he was good looking but right now with pleasure all over him, he looks a thousand times better.

The heaviness in your mouth felt so foreign but you welcomed it, the masculine salty taste that followed when you bobbled your head back and the way your cheeks puffed out because of him; it felt good. Your saliva dripped on the floor beneath you, your technique sloppy but when Sylus gripped the back of your head, you felt like you were on cloud nine. He gently guided you, pulling you forward and back – letting your mouth take him as deep as you can, before he pulled you back off. He inches himself inside, you suck and swallow around him, hearing him groan above you sent your body into a frenzy. You choke a bit but he keeps a steady pace to train your mouth again, muffled moans erupt from you when he moves your head again, hitting a deeper spot almost reaching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl…” He cooed and a whine slipped through your lips, his praise making your thighs clench together. When he finally pulled you off, strings of spit broke off from your mouth and his dick. “I’m going to come inside of you.” He tells you, but you can barely register what he’s saying too far gone on your high of being used. You’re smiling a dopey grin and he squeezes the sides of your face to make you look at him, your glossy eyes in a permanent daze. “That was only the beginning, are you sure you can handle the rest?”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Your voice is trembling and hoarse as you speak. You wanted to feel him cum inside of your throat but maybe you were being too greedy, your body swayed. He lifted you up from the floor, your knees burning. You lay there, your eyes droopy as you wait for him, all you hear is movement and a zipper before he returns to you.

“You belong to me, got it?” His hand wrapped around your throat. “Your body is mine to please, to fuck with… to do whatever I want with. And I don’t plan on letting you forget it.” His voice is hard and mean again, his jaw tense as he stares in your eyes.

“I knowww.” A whimper mixed with a whine comes from your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just sighs. Your body trembles and you sniffle, it makes him cradle your hand in his hands.

“You’re shaking, are you that scared?” He asks you gently, as if you’re a flower who needs tending to. Your eyes wide but say nothing. He laced your fingers together, his hands covering the both of yours in an iron grip. “It’s okay kitten, I won’t hurt you.”

You yelp upon feeling a cool sensation hit your lower half, him rubbing it more inside. He’s hovering over you, his beautiful face watching over yours as he slides his cock over your pussy, not daring to push it inside. He just moves his hips well enough that you’re gasping every time, his tip bumps your clit and you bite your lip, your nails ready to pierce his back. You lean into his touch and he kisses your jaw, trailing them down and gently nibbling at your collarbone, sucking on the skin. “Relax,” He says, playing with your wet folds, he starts to play with your clit again and you shiver. “I’ll be gentle.” Did Sylus truly know the meaning of the word? You’re wailing when he slides just the head in, barely. Easing a small bit of his tip in and fucking you just a tiny bit.

Then you feel him nudging more inside of you – his head thick and the squelching noises of him moving in make you tense up, but he whispers in your hair to calm you down and then you’re sucking him in. Your voice is gurgly when more of him slides in, a new found warmth inside of you. “Still so tight…” A strained groan fell from his lips, you reached from him with tears in your eyes.

Sylus didn’t move, he rubbed your hair but stayed there then he did a tiny jerk of his hips, the stretch makes you sob, but you know that he’s only barely inside of you and that there was more to come. He tells you to take a deep breath and you listen, not wanting to be in any more pain; he slips more of it inside, a thumb on your clit. He presses his thumb and does small circles around it – strangled sounds come out of your lips – he still hasn't moved.

You look at him, you put his face in your hands and look in his eyes, telling him just how ready you are for this. He’s working his cock in slowly, inch by inch but he looks like he's scared to overwhelm you. When his pelvis meets yours you gasp…your hips buckle when he completely bottoms out, a sigh dying on your lips and tears free falling… it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to but the pain still lingered. Your eyes rolling back and you squeal, your fingers holding tightly against him. “Oh…oh… Sylus.” Panting – your eyes probably filled with hearts — as you look at him, lovingly. The stringing stretch subsides when he does a small thrust, not too deep but enough to make you feel good. He pulls back and pushes himself back inside, watching your expression as you take him.

He’s being as gentle as he can, you notice. His hips thrusting soft, just nudging the soft spots inside of you. He pushes inside of you again, the first painless thrust and you both moan. Your belly tenses when he speeds up and the noises of wet skin slapping makes your body heat up. He’s rocking his hips against yours, circling his hips clockwise in a way that makes you shudder. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, he fucks you a bit harder than before. The sound of his balls slapping against you is all you can hear – his strokes getting deeper as he slows down, you look down and see the strings of wetness coating his cock as he stuffs you full of it again. “God, feels so good inside of you.” His mouth slightly agape.

A small squirt of wetness spills out of you as he thrusts inside, some of it under your bodies and some of it splashing upwards as he digs deeper inside of you. You’re squirming and squirting, eyes crossing over when you hear him say: “Marking your territory, kitten?” It only makes you gush more, squeezing around him. You can feel his deep chuckles as it vibrates from his chest to yours – he’s always mocking you but right now you could care less —the way your body feels has you ready to bend to his whim. “This little kitten and these sharp claws…” he hisses when you press your nails deeper into his skin, you dig them down his back. The long drag of his cock felt amazing against your walls, a small sharp thrust inside has you both grunting.“Clenching around me so hard.” He kisses the top part of your head and you relish in how caring he’s been, you almost forgot how any of this started.

“What’s my name?” His voice thick with a bit of annoyance, it was clear that he didn’t forget how any of this started. You felt full, lifting your hips trying to meet his thrust, his cock hitting spongy parts inside of you that made you see nothing but bright colors.

“Sy-Sylus!” Your eyes rolling back in your skull and your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape as he’s inside of you, pure bliss in the form of the gentle thrusting of his body into yours.

“Who do you belong to?” His teeth clenched and he’s squeezing your waist hard, staring at you… his ruby red eyes glowing in the dim room. His pace picking up faster, squelching plopping noises from the two of you grew louder.

“Youuuu. Slyus.” You admit, puffy pussy sucking him inside. “I belong to you.” He touches your stomach, gazing at it as he fucks himself inside of you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” His hand on your throat. Grinding his pelvis against yours, your clit pulsing against him. He stops and slides out before he jerks back in, gripping your thighs.

“Slyus!” You’re breathing hard and feel him twitching inside of you when you say his name again.

“And you tried to give it away.” He slapped your cunt and you jolted, a small squirt coming out of you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled and tears fall; you feel so good and you can’t believe you made the stupid decision in the first place when you could’ve asked him to do this… to make you feel this good. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling. He’s stretching you out, squeezing your ass in both of his hands to further spread your body open for his pleasure.

“Eyes on me. Keep looking at me. Look at me while I touch you. Look at me when I make you cum.” Your eyes still closed and he sighs. “Look at me or I’ll stop.” He gives a sloppy wet thrust pumping his cock inside of you.

That simple statement made your eyes snap open, “Slyus please…please don’t stop!” There’s a tremor in your voice and the bed creaks at the same time; your wet walls swallowing him deeper inside. “Please fill me up. I need it.” You’re babbling and the curve of his cock hits a new spot inside of you, the tip grazing your cervix just slightly… just enough to make you feel good and to gasp around him.

It felt like he was going to devour you.

And you craved it.

So you let him.

It was one last thrust that was your undoing as you both cum, your back arched and your body feeling completely boneless, wetness slipping out of you as he pulled away. Your body shaking, he kisses you and pulls you close to his bare chest. As you’re drifting to sleep you hear him whisper in the sweetest voice, “I truly do adore you.”

But maybe you dreamt it.

When you wake, your body is covered in sweat and a heavy arm has you caged in. There’s a dull ache between your thighs and you feel wetness there too, you shiver. You slide from behind the arm and attempt to stand. “Fuck.” You mutter, looking for your clothes or for any clothes. You mentally slap yourself upon remembering that Sylus cut your panties as you rummage through his closet. You pull out a folded plain dress and slip it on, making your way out of his bedroom. You close the door gently so that he can stay asleep and you walk towards the main hall.

“Sounds like Boss really taught you a lesson.” You heard snickering and with a slight limp to your walk, you moved over to slap Luke’s arm.

“Looks like it too.” Kieran said, making you hit him too. “It’s not like we didn’t hear it, you two were so loud that Mephisto left and I swear before he left that he tried to cover his ears. I would’ve done it too, if I thought it would drown off the ‘Slyus don’t stop’ you kept moanin.” Mimicking your voice made you kick him in the shin, which he yelped at.

“Both of you just hush. I-I’m leaving.” You make your way for the door as they trail behind you.

“So this is you attempting to sneak off?” Luke snorts, you know he’s rolling his eyes behind the mask.

“Yeah right, boss really isn’t letting you leave now.” Kieran chuckles.

“They’re right, you know.” For a split second your body is lifted in the air and slammed against the front of a hard naked chest and for possibly the millionth time today, your body felt hot all over. “You really won’t be leaving my side now.”

But you already knew that.

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ievutebebe · 1 month

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GOD MILADY BLOSSOM YOU ARE A TREASURE. YOU ARE GENIUS WITH THE BUGS AND TICKS IDEA I WENT FROM CRYING FROM LAUGHTER TO DRIPPING WET IN 0.1 SECONDS MAM! GOD I LOVE YOUR BRAIN AND THE WAY YOU WRITE DEVILS TANGO. BUT THE BUG IDEA IS FUCKING GENIUS GIRL ESPECIALLY COZ WE KNOW U HATE BUGS SO SMART

TOMMY TICK DICK STILL NOT OVER IT😂😭 HOW DOES YOUR BRAIN COME UP WITH THIS STUFF

Safety First

While camping, Joel insists on thoroughly checking you for ticks. Safety first, after all. (6.5k)

Tags - smut, dbf!joel (there was no use fighting it for this one) forced proximity, tick checks but it’s just a precaution I promise there’s no ticks involved, enemies to lovers vibes, fingering, oral (f!receiving), edging, unprotected piv, creampie, finger sucking, come eating, implied age gap, reader is description-less apart from one freckle on her buttcheek and also has pubic hair, mild mild dubcon. Fic help - @endlessthxxghts , @beefrobeefcal @noxturnalpascal thank you for helping me get this together 🩷 A/N - This has been sitting for way too long in the drafts and it does feel a little scary to post but the only way out is through ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’m working up a pt. 2 to On Display as well as some more stepdaddy roman and some other things <3 thank you for sticking around

enjoy, my fellow freaks <3

You’re not an outdoors person. At all. You hate bugs, you hate being at the mercy of mother earth and whichever type of weather she chooses at any given moment. You hate when it’s too windy, when it’s too cold, when it’s too sunny and hot and you’re sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable. You hate the mess of it all; the mud and the dirt, walking on uneven terrain, taking careful steps so as not to brush up against poison ivy. Not to mention how with each change of the season comes another allergen, whether it be pollen or ragweed or grass. Fucking grass. The earth is covered in it, and there’s no escape.

Except for the great indoors. Temperature controlled, a simple push of a button makes the air warmer or colder at your will. A flick of a switch makes a room light or dark. Walls protect you from insects and the rain and the harsh rays of the sun. It’s a beautiful thing, and exactly where you’re gonna stay tonight. If only you could get the television to cooperate…

“Would you quit toyin’ with the electronics? You got TV outside. Go see if you can spot a raccoon or somethin’. Thought you loved those critters.”

You roll your eyes. You were expecting that type of comment to be made by Joel at some point or another. He’s the exact opposite of you, he is an outdoors person. He loves it all - fishing, hiking, golfing. Exposing himself to the elements.

“I’m not going outside.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a nature person,” you tell him plainly.

Joel scoffs, “God, you’re a diva. And your dad is too, for havin’ a fuckin’ camper like this. And when he gets back, you can tell him Joel said so.” He looks around himself, judging the pristine interior of your dad’s RV. Glamping. That’s what this is. It’s not real camping, not when you’ve got an oven and air conditioning and a bathroom with a shower. The point of camping is to get away from this sort of life, to reconnect with nature. “You too high-society for a tent or somethin’?”

You turn around to look at Joel, your brows knit in faux-concern. “Wait - Joel, do you hear that?”

“Hear what, darlin’?” Joel searches for the out of place noise you’re asking about. “I don’t hear anything.”

“It sounds like…” you hum, really putting on an act. “Sounds like this thing called air conditioning. I think it’s after your time, but it’s really neat - when it’s hot outside –”

Joel interrupts, “Real nice, fuckin’ smartass.” He fights hard to bite down on his smile, to not give you the satisfaction of making him laugh with that zinger. “After my time,” he sneers. “You’re testin’ me. Now c’mon outside with me, let’s get a fire started.”

“No.”

“Do it for me,” Joel pleads. “Pretend you like me. Just for tonight, kiddo.” He wears his most charming smile and it shouldn’t work, but it does.

“Fine,” you concede. “But I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it so you get off my ass.”

“Atta girl,” Joel stands up from where he sat on the couch, groaning as he stretches. You catch yourself peeking at his tummy, admiring that trail of dark hairs that travel below his belly button and beneath his pants. God, an asshole like Joel does not deserve to look as fucking handsome as he does. Thick arms and thighs, soft tummy. Sparkling chocolate eyes, a sharp aquiline nose. Gentle curls, all dark but painted with streaks of gray. And you, you have absolutely no business being so infatuated with him.

Joel’s your father’s best friend, and a piece of shit. He’s condescending, arrogant, brash. Your dad always said Joel had a sweet spot for you, but you’re sure that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Joel taught you how to drive a stick shift, which ended with you in tears with the car stalled at the bottom of a hill. He also used to help you with your geometry homework, insistently reminding you that geometry was in fact, not useless. That he uses geometry every day of his life working in construction. Those nights at his kitchen table always ended with you and he at each other’s throats, arguing over the right answers. It didn’t last forever, though. Joel ended up moving a couple hours away, and you grew up. You found yourself missing him on occasion. As much of a dick as he was, he was still an important figure in your life. He offered you advice, let you cry on his shoulder after your first breakup, picked you up from parties you weren’t supposed to be at, no questions asked. Nevertheless, he’s still an ass. He was then, and he is now.

Actually, he’s not even supposed to be here with you right now. This was supposed to be a weekend camping trip with just you and your father, but as your dad was getting the RV in order he received a call from his next-door neighbor. Water was pouring out from his front door, which meant the entire main floor had flooded. You weren’t around for this call, however, as your dad had tasked you with hiking down to the nearby camp store to pick up some ice and some matches. Your dad left a note explaining what had happened and that his theory is that one of his idiot dogs must have turned on a sink or something. He said he was sorry for leaving, and that his old buddy Joel - you remember Joel, don’t you? - lives close by and would stop by with some dinner for you.

Your heart raced when you read the note. It had been years since you’d last seen Joel, years since he last saw you. You knew nothing of what to expect, if he’d drop the food off and go or if he’d stick around. Your question was quickly answered when Joel pulled up in his truck, a large Aurelio’s pizza in his hands and an overstuffed backpack on his shoulder. He tapped urgently on the camper door, “Open the door for me, would ya? Pizza’s fuckin’ hot.”

You let Joel in wordlessly. He placed the pizza on the table, then looked for a spot to put his belongings down. “Hope you don’t mind, hon, but your dad called again and asked that I stay the night. He’s not gonna be back in time and doesn’t wanna leave ya out in the woods on your own.”

“That’s fine,” you answered. It was quiet then, as you took in Joel and he did the same to you. He’s older now, and so are you. You felt yourself becoming shy as he scanned you up and down. Joel sensed your uncomfortability and cleared his throat, then helped himself to a slice of pizza. “Eat up,” he told you.

That was hours ago. Early evening, maybe. The awkwardness had worn off as you shared the pizza, and you were back to bickering in no time. And now here you are, out in the trees collecting kindling for a fire. Joel’s closer to the camper, using your dad’s hatchet to chop up some firewood. “Don’t wander too far,” he calls after you. “S’gettin’ dark.”

You roll your eyes. Like you’d ever go willingly further into the trees. You collect sticks, listening to the sounds of nature. Crickets, an animal rustling in the leaves. If there weren’t mosquitos biting your legs right now, you’d almost enjoy this. Almost.

When you feel you’ve collected a sufficient amount of sticks, you bring it back to Joel at the campsite. Joel inspects your pile, “Looks good t’me,” he says. “Why don’t you go look for some s’mores stuff inside, I’ll get the fire started.”

You go back into the camper and browse the pantry, finding some two months expired Jet-Puffed marshmallows and some graham crackers. No chocolate, though. You opt instead for some Keebler fudge stripe cookies you packed instead and bring the ingredients out to Joel. “No chocolate,” you tell him. “Does this work?”

“Oh, s’perfect. Changes the game, actually,” he says excitedly, his eyebrows perking in excitement. “You’re a genius.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment. Joel sits down in one of the camping chairs, you sit at the one next to him. He finds the campfire skewers resting against the side of the RV and cleans them off in the growing fire he’s started in the firepit, then puts two marshmallows on one end, twirling them over the flame. “How toasty would you like your marshmallow, darlin’?”

“Barely,” you answer. “Like, don’t let it touch the flame.”

“That’s asinine,” Joel replies. “Gotta give it more color than that. ‘Sposed to be on fire.”

“No, thank you. That’s disgusting. Just golden brown, please.”

“Golden brown. I can work with golden brown,” Joel says. He holds the marshmallow over the flame, careful not to let it touch, just like you asked. A small movement across his hand captures his attention, though. “What the…”

“What is it, Joel?”

“It’s…” Joel studies his hand, his attention now focused on a little bug crawling across it. The marshmallows on the skewer become entirely burnt, melting into the firepit as Joel tries to identify the bug. “Oh, fuck.”

“What?”

Joel sets down the skewers and carefully shows you the bug on his hand. Teeny tiny, almond shaped, eight legs. “That’s a fuckin’ tick. He’s lookin for a place to burrow.”

You make a repulsed face as Joel flicks the parasite into the fire. “That’s disgusting.”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ bastard. Must’ve fallen on me when we were collectin’ wood. God bless it,” he groans. “Inside. We need to check for more.”

You pout. “Really?”

“Really,” Joel answers. “Try not to look so excited. It’s only a couple ‘a minutes. We’ll make new s’mores when we’re done.”

You get out of your chair and Joel holds the camper door open for you, letting you inside first. He follows suit, only after dumping some water on the fire. He’s got enough dry wood to start a new one when you come back out there. You sit on the couch and Joel joins you, then pulls off his t-shirt. He runs his hands through his hair, using his fingers to search for anything that feels like it’s not supposed to be there. He turns away from you, “Check my neck and back for me, first,” he says. “Please.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Joel’s half naked in front of you, and you’re tasked with searching his body. Every goddamn inch. It’s going to be fucking torture. “Okay,” you breathe.

You hesitantly reach for his shoulders and pull them back slightly to urge him to sit up straighter, then push his curls away from his neck. Joel shivers slightly with your touch. You inspect the nape of his neck, then one shoulder, then the other. He’s so fucking broad, his shoulders miles wide. Joel senses your timidity as you gingerly touch him, “Need somethin’ from me? Want me to lean forward a little?”

“Uhm…yeah - yes,” you whisper.

Joel leans forward to allow you to search the expanse of his back for any ticks. Thankfully, you’re coming up empty. Just all of Joel’s tan, smooth skin, all for you to touch and examine under the warm glow of the lights. You find yourself mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of his torso with every breath he takes, the silvery stretch marks by his hips. His skin is so warm under the palms of your hands, all you can think about is touching, feeling, scratching him. His voice interrupts you from your thoughts, “You done?”

“Mhm.”

Joel sits up and turns in your direction. “Front side, now,” he says. He’s looking right at you as you search his chest, just in case you see something he can’t. He holds out his arms one at a time for you to inspect and turn over, then raises them for you to check his underarms. When you’re finished, Joel stands up and unbuckles his belt. You swallow thickly.

“I know. M’not thrilled either, hon, but they do like to hide in the more…private areas of the body.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Joel says. “Oh.”

You avert your eyes as he pulls off both his jeans and boxers, covering his member with his two hands. “I can do my…you don’t have to check that out. But –”

“Your ass.”

“My ass,” Joel sighs. “And legs. ‘Specially the back of ‘em, where I can’t see.”

“Got it.”

This couldn’t be more…god. Joel’s awkwardly covering himself with two hands, his head tilted back and looking at the ceiling. He turns around for you to check his backside and luckily there’s nothing, just his plump ass. If you were a better woman, you wouldn’t be thinking of squeezing it right now. Fuck. He’s so hot like this, completely nude and on display for you. His legs are so long and muscular, his tummy is soft and pillowy.

You’re so quiet. God, Joel feels terrible for putting you through this. You must be so uncomfortable, but ticks are not worth rolling the dice on. Disgusting parasites. He decides to break the tension. “You remember my brother Tommy, don’tcha?”

Tommy. Younger than Joel, just as handsome. You didn’t see him as much as you saw Joel growing up, but you know him. “Yeah, sure. I remember Tommy.”

“Right. Well, Tommy knows all about ticks in places they ain’t ‘sposed to be.”

“Oh?”

Joel turns around for you to check his thighs, then the front of his legs. “Mhm,” he says. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything. He’d kill me for tellin’ ya.”

“No, no - tell me.”

“Keep it to yourself. Don’t let him know I told ya,” Joel warns, then clears his throat before speaking. “Well,” Joel begins, “It’s Tommy’s senior year of high school right after graduation. His class goes campin’, right? Tommy meets up with a girl, things start to heat up.”

“Right.”

“Right. You know where this is goin’. Clothes are comin’ off, they’re gettin’ handsy. And this girl feels somethin’ she ain’t supposed to on his uh…on his member.”

You gasp, “No.”

“Tommy pulls out his flashlight and lo and behold…”

“Tick on his dick.”

“Tick on his dick,” Joel confirms. “Fully buried, and all full of blood. I don’t even know how he was able to get it up, truth be told.”

“You’re joking. Joel, that’s fucking disgusting. Tell me you’re joking.”

Joel looks down at you, his lips pressed together as he tries to stifle his laughter and shakes his head. In between gasps and giggles, Joel explains, “He made the poor girl drive him to the ER cause he was a faintin’ mess. I met ‘em both there. I was there when Tommy was explainin’ it all to the nurse, this little old lady. And she said somethin’ about his dick bein’ ribbed for her pleasure or somethin’ like that, fuckin’ riot of a woman. Oh god, I’d never seen him so red in my life,” he wipes a stray tear of laughter from his eye, then goes right back to laughing.

You’re giggling with Joel. The way he tells the story, like he’s right back in the ER with Tommy tells you he’s being truthful. His eyes crinkle as he laughs.

“So then what happened?”

“Well, Tommy ended up alright,” Joel says. “Poor girl never spoke to him again, though. Didn’t take long for rumors to start spreadin’, his friends all called him ‘Tommy Tick Dick’. He enlisted in the army shortly after that.”

“Oh, did he?”

“He was a real patriot, and there was nothin’ else to it,” Joel exaggerates the sentence as if he’s mocking Tommy. “Or so he says,” he adds.

“So he says.”

By the time Joel’s finished the story, you’re long done with his tick check. He puts on his boxer shorts and sits on the couch next to you, both of you still chuckling. “Alright, your turn.”

“What do you mean, my turn?”

“You were in the woods too, right? And longer than I was. You’re at more of a risk. I need’a check you, now.”

“Oh, no thank you.”

It’s not that you don’t trust Joel or anything like that. But Joel doesn’t need to know how turned on you are just from seeing and feeling his naked body. It’d be so obvious - he’d see your hard nipples and your arousal-soaked panties. And it’d only worsen as he touches you, his warm, masculine hands traveling over your body as he carefully searches every inch of your skin. On no planet would you expect him to be a gentleman about it, either. You know he’d tease you in one way or another, get some sort of sick satisfaction out of knowing how you really feel about him, deep down inside.

“Yeah, nice try,” he says. “You got two choices: you can let me check ya for ticks now while it’s still easy, or you can wait until one’s buried in your skin and suckin’ your blood. I’d suggest the former.”

He makes a compelling argument. “Former,” you agree, no questions about it. You can’t stand when a fly lands on you, or when an ant crawls across your foot. The thought of a tick in your…you’re not even going there. You’re gonna puke.

“I’ll make it quick,” Joel assures. “Promise ya.”

Joel helps you to undress. He holds the sleeves of your hoodie as you pull your arms out of them, then pulls the garment off of you entirely, leaving you in just your bra. “Ready?” he asks, gently toying with the strap.

“Mhm.”

His fingers feel like pure electricity as they skate along your skin, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall to your lap. Instinctually, you cover your chest and turn away from him to allow him to check your skin. Just like you did to him, he checks your neck and shoulders first, his warm breaths fanning over you. His hands travel down your spine as he pushes you down, exposing more of your body for him to search. He traces over every mark, your skin erupting in goosebumps as he does. “You’re good. Come and face me, now,” he whispers. “Won’t bite ya.”

You turn your body in Joel’s direction, still covering yourself. He holds your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb, turning your head back and to the side so he can check your throat, and then your collarbones. Joel reaches for your wrist and pulls it toward his body, stretching your arm out for him to turn over and inspect. He does the same with your other arm, patient as you adjust the way you cover yourself. His eyes widen slightly when you accidentally expose yourself, but you don’t seem to notice your mistake.

“Stand up for me, now. Lemme check the rest.”

He looks at the wall as you shimmy off your shorts, but leave your panties on. Fuck, you can feel how wet you are, that little awful mess between your thighs. You stand in front of him, arms still crossed over your chest. “Gimme a leg,” Joel murmurs, and you lift one leg and he sets your foot on the couch next to his thigh. He keeps one hand on your hip, holding you steady as he scans your thigh, turning your leg to the side so he can check your calves. He helps you back to two feet, then repeats the process with your other leg. “Good. Almost done, kiddo. You’re doin’ fine.”

You turn around for him to check your backside, make sure nothing’s hanging out where it’s not supposed to be. “Just gonna move this to the side…” Joel says, carefully pulling the elastic of your panties out of the way. His fingers grace over the swell of your ass, as he quickly checks one side, then does the same thing to the other side. “Wait a sec–”

Your heart stops. “What?”

“Oh, you have got to be shittin’ me.”

“Joel–”

“Get on the couch and lay on your stomach. Hurry, do it now.”

You lay on your stomach on the couch, Joel picks up both of your legs and pulls your body until your ass is right on his lap. “Sorry, kiddo. Just bein’ thorough, here.” Your heart pounds as he moves your panties to the side and gingerly prods at an area on your ass cheek, right where it meets your thigh. Just millimeters away from where you need him most, where you’re dripping for him…

“Oh, thank Christ. False alarm. Just a freckle or birthmark or somethin’ back here,” Joel sighs in relief. But for you, relief never comes. Joel’s hand stays on your ass, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your skin. With each pass, he’s getting closer to your pussy, but still achingly far from it. “You’re clean.”

“O-oh.”

Joel hears the uncertainty in your tone. “You alright there, darlin’?”

“Mhm,” you answer.

“You can put your clothes back on now.”

Joel waits. It’s as if he said nothing at all, the way you ignore his suggestion. He finds it a little interesting that you won’t move, how you seem cozy on his lap. And in fact, you’re sighing, sort of inching your way closer to him.

“Hon?”

“Hmm?”

“You gonna get dressed with me?”

“Mhm.”

You’ve lost all subtlety. Joel notices that you’re arching your back, sort of rocking yourself on him. Trying to nudge his fingers just a little lower. You’re successful, and Joel feels the damp cotton of your panties on the tips of his fingertips and realizes, “Ohh. I get it,” he mumbles, chuckling. “You’re not bein’ subtle, you know.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you lie. The first words out of your mouth that aren’t a lazy, quiet moan or hum of pleasure.

“Neither am I.”

Joel had an inkling that something like this was going on with you. He saw how your eyes wandered over his body, how your pupils went wide at the sight of his body. He could practically hear the thoughts in your brain, but he bit his tongue. Maybe he was wrong, maybe you were just nervous. It’d make sense. But he’d bit his tongue before, when all those years ago he helped maneuver your belongings in his truck to your college dorm. You fell asleep in the passenger seat next to him, your sleepy breaths turned to quiet whimpers of his name in your sleep as you squeezed your thighs together. Joel never mentioned it to you, wanting to protect you from the embarrassment. But he heard his name clear as day.

He wonders how much longer you’ll keep this up for, writhing on his lap, never asking him for what you want. Joel knows exactly why, too. You’ve got some sort of reputation to uphold, you can never give him the satisfaction of knowing that maybe, just maybe, you like him. Even if it’s just sexual, born out of nothing but need for pleasure - pure, stupid pleasure.

“You can just ask f’ya want somethin’ from me,” Joel encourages. “S’all you gotta do.” To Joel’s amusement, you stay quiet. You’re really not doing yourself any sort of favors. “Not gonna?”

“No.”

“Ah, she speaks. So you’re not gonna ask for nothin’, not gonna tell me what you want?” Joel moves your panties to the side and rests his fingers against your center, all hot and dripping with need. “C’mon, now.”

You’re fighting against yourself. You know this, know that if you so much as lean into his touch a little more than you should that technically, you’re compliant - you’re docile, you’re willing. You’ll lose the game - a game where your only opponent is yourself, yet Joel wins all the same.

“Got no good reason to be stubborn about this,” he purrs. He slides both hands over the swell of your ass and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, then pulls them down your thighs and off your legs. He parts your legs and cups your mound, toying with the hair there before dipping his fingers between your lips, humming in delight when he feels the considerable pool of arousal at your core. You’re fucking soaked, and despite this, you still won’t say a word. You just whimper and wiggle against him. “F’ya don’t ask, you don’t receive. You wanna keep makin’ things difficult for yourself?”

It’s a warning, but he’s giving you an out. You prop yourself up on your elbows, then turn your head and look over your shoulders at Joel. He searches your face and waits for you to speak, but you don’t. Of course you don’t, because you’re hellbent on giving Joel any shred of pride about this, the fact he’s got you in his lap and melting under your touch. It’s all futile, though. He can see it on your face, your wide eyes and your open mouth, practically salivating as you watch him stroke your folds gently, so gently. Joel smiles, unashamed of the pleasure he’s getting out of this.

“You know what’d happen if you used your words? F’ya told me that ya want me?”

“What?”

“Well,” Joel says, dipping two fingers into your slick entrance. He pushes them in slowly, letting you feel the way his knuckles stretch your pussy. He pulls them out almost all the way to admire the way you’ve soaked him, then pushes back in. He continues, “I’d give you the lovin’ I know you need. Make you come however you’d like, however much you’d like. Would that be so terrible?”

You whimper as he begins to curl his fingers, “Joel.”

“I know you’re tempted, sweetheart. It’s yours if you want it.”

Last chance. He’d make good on his promise, you can see it in his eyes, all dark with lust and wide with excitement. You can feel it in his touch, the intent to bring you nothing but pleasure evident in how he strokes you. But maybe you don’t need to be loved right now, maybe you’d prefer to be used. To feel him indulge himself in your cunt, feel his selfishness in the way he fucks you, and never allow him the satisfaction of making you come. You win the game this way.

“Other option is, we do things my way. Couldn’t quite tell you yet exactly what that entails, though…so weigh your risk and reward carefully.” Joel warns. “Last call, darlin’. Speak now or forever hold your peace.” Joel waits for you to object, but you never do. Game restarted, ignited by the way you settle in his lap, your silent way of telling him your body is for him to use as he pleases. “Alright, then. My way it is.”

Joel curls his fingers rhythmically in your cunt, brushing against that sweet spot inside of you. He groans, loving those slick, wet noises your cunt makes for him as he admires your body laid out on his lap, all of that soft, smooth skin of yours is just for him. You squirm as he touches you, biting down on your moans and letting him only hear quiet sighs of pleasure.

As quickly as it begins, it’s over. Joel pulls his fingers from you and you whine in disappointment. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?” Joel asks, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, just–”

Joel wraps both of his big, masculine hands over your waist and pushes you further up the seat of the couch so that you’re not laid across his lap any longer. He kneels behind you and looks around for something - pillow, clothes, blanket - he tugs on a removable couch cushion and you look over your shoulder in curiosity.

“Then don’t you worry about what I’m doin’ back here,” he says. “Eyes forward.”

You turn back around, excitement bubbling in your lower stomach. Joel taps your hip, “Lift up for me, kiddo,” he urges, and you lift your hips. He slides a pillow under them, propping your ass up for him. He lays on his tummy, and it’s a rather tight fit on the couch of the camper but he doesn’t mind.

Joel nudges your thighs apart a little and harshly squeezes the flesh of your ass. He spreads your cheeks apart, finally getting a picture-perfect view of your cunt, all glistening with ribbons of your creamy arousal. He can see the muscles twitch, your hole puckering as you await his touch. “You made a mess,” he murmurs, sliding the pad of his thumb through your slick folds. He collects your arousal on his fingertips and lunges forward, his body covering yours and brings those fingers to your lips and pushes them into your mouth. You can feel his hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, Joel grinding himself against your ass as you suck his fingers clean, you hum at the taste.

He pulls his fingers from your mouth and gets right back into position, his knees cracking as he does, spreading you out again so that he can bury his face in your pussy. He does exactly that, pressing a kiss to your slick, warm center, dragging his tongue up higher until he reaches your asshole. You gasp when Joel spits on it and circles the muscle with his tongue, fuck, he really is doing things his way. He rounds your tight hole, all wet and sloppy before he dips his tongue inside, causing you to squirm at the unfamiliar sensation. He finishes the job with a couple of kisses there, kisses that travel lower and lower until he reaches your pussy once again.

The little sigh of relief you breathe out when Joel’s lips reach the area you need him most is not lost on him, and he smirks against you. He kisses your pussy, loving the way your slick, soft cunt feels against his lips, against his face. Joel inhales you, the scent of your sweet arousal. He hopes that later, he’ll smell your essence on his mustache and be reminded of this moment here with you, and he’ll be hard all over again. He’ll stroke his cock and think of your cunt, groaning your name as he spills into his own hand. But for now, he focuses on you.

He uses a pointed tongue to trace along the length of your folds, up and down, up and down until his it rests against your slick hole. He dips inside and tastes your honeyed arousal, he finds your heady, musky flavor so addicting. He could spend forever here, that perfect, warm, private space between your thighs.

Joel finds himself torn between wanting to eat you the way he should and the way he wants to. He vacillates between savoring you, loving your soft, wet cunt and the way he can make you grind on his face, even if it’s just slightly, and devouring you whole, sucking your sensitive bud to make your legs shake and causing you to pull away from him - he knows it’s too much too fast. Joel settles on the latter of the two manners. His tongue laving over your pussy, lips wrapped around your clit is not something he does for you, but to you. It’s all for him, after all. There’s passion and determination, and he means to love you, please you. But it devolves, it’s all aggression, fingernails digging into your flesh and bruising you almost like he could strip your bones of it.

He’s getting ahead of himself. If his scruff were shorter, he’d be rubbing you raw, and you almost wish he could. Joel wishes to smell and taste you later, you yearn to feel him on your skin just the same. You’d feel your tender inner thighs ache when you sit down and when you shower, the lather of your soap making your skin burn. You’d remember the weight of his hands holding your ass in place, the pressure of his tongue lapping your folds. You reach behind yourself, searching for something, any part of him to hold onto. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at those graying curls as you bite into the flesh of your own thumb.

“J- fuck, oh my god.”

You’re moaning, unable to help yourself. Getting close, you attempt to pull away from Joel, seeking to limit your own pleasure so as not to come on his tongue.

“Don’t you run from me,” Joel mumbles, pulling you right back in. He keeps you held still, so secure in his grip that you can’t writhe and squirm away from or toward him. “You’re gonna take it,” he tells you. You’re gonna feel his sharp, big nose tease your ass, feel his tongue lapping at your sensitive clit. Joel eats you like he’s starved and you’re the first meal he’s seen in days, steaming hot and ready for him to sink his teeth into.

You’re seeing stars. It takes all the mental focus you have not to come on his tongue, not to give him that reward. Joel finds it all amusing, you won’t even let yourself moan. He can hear that you’re trying to, but you’re swallowing your own noises and whimpering into your skin. Your thighs twitch with your impending release, and Joel tries his hardest to push you over the edge. But Joel’s only a man, and when his jaw and his tongue begin to tire he relents, pulling away from your body only in minor defeat. “You might’a won the battle,” he says, biting your ass cheek right where it meets your thigh. “But you’re losin’ the war. I ain’t finished with you yet.”

Joel kneels behind you, then spreads your thighs apart with one of his knees. “Nice an’ wide,” he instructs. He groans as he pushes the waistband of his boxers down his thighs, his leaking and rock hard cock springing free. He spits in his hand and pumps it a couple times, coating his member in his own saliva before he leans lower, lower, until the blunt head of his cock is nudging against your core. One of his arms is bent and hovering near your head as notches himself inside you, then pulls out, only to push himself back in slightly. He chuckles when you squirm, arching your back in attempt to take more than what he’s giving you. “Easy, easy,” he purrs. “You’re hellbent against comin’ for me anyway, so what’s with the rushin’?”

“Joel,” you whine.

“Oh, I know…” Joel groans as he buries himself into you fully, that slow, slide inside your body has him biting his lower lip. You’re so tight, and Joel knows you’re loving that ache, that stretch and burn of his thick cock splitting you open. “Got you figured out, you know. I know why you’re doin’ this,” he grunts, pulling out of you all the way. He pushes back inside you, “You think you’re provin’ a point.”

“Joel, I’m -”

“You don’t have to like me, sweetheart, but I know you like how I make ya feel. It’s allowed, baby. This don’t have to mean nothin’ else.”

You don’t answer him. Not that you could, anyway. He’s building a steady pace, fucking you so deeply and so intentional. His motions are fluid, his cock hitting you in all the right places. You feel his hot breath on your neck, his warm body moving against yours, and you’re losing yourself in him, moaning and babbling nonsense. You reach for his hand in front of you and bring it to your mouth, then suck and nibble on two of his thick fingers. Fuck, you can taste yourself on his skin.

Joel likes this, the feeling of your lips and tongue and teeth on his fingers. He knows you’re trying to pacify yourself, quiet your noises as if by doing so, you could push away the pleasure building deep inside you. The attempt only serves to egg him on, fuck you harder, faster. He slides a hand under your tummy and his fingers find your clit, the weight of his body on yours and the pillow under your abdomen aids him to achieve a perfect angle to stimulate and massage your sensitive bud. “Oh, there it is. You’re in for it now, kiddo.”

It works like a charm. You gag on his fingers, slobbering as Joel fucks you. All you can do is take it, take the pleasure that he creates with you between stuttering hips and writhing bodies. It’s quickly becoming too much, release is inevitable as Joel fills you up over and over and over. You can’t stave it off much longer, not when you can hear the lewd, obscene noises of you cunt gushing on his cock and Joel, with his grunting, moaning. “Fuck, sweetheart. Goddamn.” Hot tears begin to spill down your cheeks, dampening his skin and Joel knows, oh how he knows how hard this is for you, you poor thing. He’ll soothe you if you’ll let him. “Come on, hon. Let go for me.” he urges. “You’re gonna come for me.”

There’s no choice in the matter anymore, and you realize this. Nowhere to run and hide. You can feel your clit grinding against the calloused pads of Joel’s thick fingers and it’s only a matter of time. Tears are falling freely now, and Joel pulls his hand away from your mouth to wipe them off your skin. “You’re fine,” he says. “You can take it.”

Joel manages to pull the hood of your clit back a little, making it all that much more sensitive as he rolls his hips into you. Your desperate moans and your squirming beneath him fills him with amusement. He admires your determination, how exhausting this must be for you.

It’s just a few seconds of Joel painting your clit with tight and steady circles as he thrusts into you repeatedly. Release is right around the corner, you know it and so does Joel. There’s an intense, fiery and electric pleasure building deep in your gut, threatening to spill over. You feel it trickling down your thighs, traveling up your spine and when you gasp sharply, Joel knows you’re coming. “There it is,” he praises. “Oh, there you are. Good girl, good girl. I know that feels good.”

He fucks you through your orgasm and even well past its departure so that you’re not sure where your climax begins and ends. It’s an overwhelming feeling, the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever felt before, intensified by his sloppy and stuttering thrusts as he finds his own release. You sigh as you feel him empty himself into you, dick twitching against your walls, his hot come paints your insides and fills you with a deep and satisfying warmth.

Joel slows down, then stills completely as you both catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a grunt, watching the mess of his come and yours spill onto the fabric beneath your body. He pushes it back inside you, then brings his fingers to your lips. When you suck his fingers clean of the spend, he kisses your temple and scoops you into his arms, trailing his fingers up and down your spine. He can feel your satisfaction in your limp body, the way you relax into him. Joel chooses not to tease you for losing the game.

After quiet moments pass, Joel hears you giggling to yourself. “Hey, you,” he says. “What’s so funny?”

“Tommy Tick Dick,” you answer.

Joel giggles with you, his eyes crinkling and sparkling with his laughter. “Oh, I’m goin’ to hell for that.”

“What, for laughing? I’m laughing, too.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I’m the one who started callin’ him Tommy Tick Dick.”

i'd like to share with you a poem written by @beefrobeefcal about this fic.

tick on his dick little nibbly friend chomping on down on tommy's bell end

If you enjoyed, please reblog/send me an ask/comment and tell me your thoughts! Your feedback keeps me motivated to write 🩷

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ievutebebe · 1 month

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Elucien Ghibli Moodboard

Movies from left to right: Howl's Moving Castle, The Secret World of Arrietty, Castle in the Sky , My Neighbor Totoro , When Marnie was There, The Wind Rises, Kiki's Delivery Service & Tales from Earthsea Headcanon: Lucien & Elain's favorite ghibli movie

🌸Artist: @yasu.art.studio | Commissoner: @amandapearls Day 7 AU @elucienweekofficial

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ievutebebe · 1 month

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THE HOTTEST HANDJOB EVURRR EDGED AND CAME THANK YOU SO MUCH ALPHA PINKY DEAREST NOW I HAVE SO MANY ALPHAS HOWLING OUTSIDE MY HOUSE DUE TO HOW MUCH PHEROMONES I AM EMITTING HEH ITS SO HARD BEING AN OMEGA🐺🫦🫦🫦🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Handiwork - Jim Hopper x fem!reader

summary: Hopper shows up with a nasty cut so you lend a helping a hand and patch him up.

content: MDNI ofc, friends to lovers, subby!Hop, Hop has a hand kink, just minor descriptions of the cut, handjob, cum eating (oops), no physical description of reader except for pretty hands and jewelry

author's note: I had so many people look at this, thank you so much @strang3lov3 @umnitsa @endlessthxxghts @ievutebebe for looking at this and helping me work this out! Also I know the moodboard and title say fem!reader but technically this can be seen as gn!reader too, fem!reader's just my default mode.

word count: 2.6k

You got home from work four hours ago, ready to bask in the comfort of your small home in Hawkins. Despite the beautiful sunny weather outside, you find yourself more comfortable on your couch with a big cup of your favorite tea and a new book you've been dying to read.

You haven't moved an inch in the last hour, too engrossed in the book's plot. A sharp knock at your door pulls you out of your thoughts. You have no clue who it is, but you don't wanna be rude and ignore the person, so you get up with a tired sigh and open the door, only to find Jim Hopper looking down at you, pressing a bloodied tissue to his head.

"Hop, hi, I-... wow, what happened?"

Jim looks at you, his blue eyes kind and warm as always when he's with you. "Might have gotten into a little brawl at the bar," he admits sheepishly with a little eye roll.

You step aside and let him in. "For good reason at least?"

He shrugs, "Just had to handle a drunk guy and you know... some glass broke." You take a look at him, peeling the tissue away just enough to look at the cut going diagonally from his left eyebrow. "Thought you might come in handy, I'm out of gauze," he says dryly, "And I really don't need a hospital bill right now."

Fair enough, you think.

He wordlessly follows you to the bathroom and just lets his eyes follow you as you gather the supplies you'll need. He notices the ring on your index finger, the one he got you for your birthday a few months back. He'd never admit to it, but he's always been a little fascinated by your hands. And that fascination has gotten stronger over the last few months. He never really thought about hands that much, what they might say about people, but he's watched yours take care of El's scraped knee, watched them pet stray cats, seen those fingers wrap around a bottle of beer at his place. When he looks at his own hands, he just thinks of them as burly, callused.

But yours? They’re soft, gentle, even in the most mundane of tasks.

He snaps out of his thoughts when you clear your throat and turn around again, putting stuff on the vanity behind him. You cock your head and chuckle, "Need you to get a little more on my level, big guy." It takes a second for him to get the hint, but then he puts the bloodied tissue aside and sits down on the toilet lid, legs spread so you can step between them. You nod approvingly and can't hide a little smirk at the height difference between you two. Neither can he.

You grab a small towel and hold it under running water for a second before gently dabbing at the cut, cleaning the dried blood. He hums and closes his eyes. "Sorry," you mumble, your other hand tilting his head a little to get a better look at the cut. He feels the rings on his skin and suppresses a noise in his throat. The corner of his mouth twitches, "No, 's the cold that feels nice." "Enjoy the cold, only gets worse from here," you quip and snort when his eyes snap open. "Just some antiseptic and a few stitches, you can handle it. You're in good hands with me." "Hm, never doubted that," he retorts and closes his eyes again.

You pat the wound dry with another and then reach for the antiseptic, putting some of it onto a sterile gauze compress and then gently holding and dabbing it against the wound. He hums again and clears his throat in discomfort. "Ah come on, you've had worse," you tease softly. He smirks again and nudges your leg with his, "Shut up." "You shut up."

He feels a shiver down his spine when you carefully touch the area around the cut, checking for swelling or signs of infection. He slowly takes a deep breath, careful so you don't notice his tension. He feels the blood rushing through his body, his thoughts running a mile a minute. “You’re always so gentle with your hands,” he mutters softly, and you thank him bashfully. You mumble something, asking if he’s still good. When he opens his eyes, he catches your gaze, your eyes still warm despite the cold white light of your bathroom.

"Hope I'm not ruining your evening plans with this," he suddenly says. You put the compress aside and scoff, "Please, we both know I don't have plans. You're basically my highlight of the day." He cocks his eyebrow, immediately squinting as he feels the pain from the currently bad side of his face, "Oh really?" You smile proudly at him, "Mhm."

His heart skips a beat. If only you knew the effect you're having on him right now. He hasn't always felt for you like this, recently things have just been feeling different. He feels more at ease with himself. He's trying to allow himself a little more fun again, a little more peace. And in all the years he's known you, he can't remember when your presence hasn't brightened his day. You've always been the highlight of his day.

He smiles at you, and you realize your hand is still on his cheek like before. You pull away and take a deep breath, "Okay, so... stitching's gonna be a bitch." Hop just shrugs, "Someone told me I've had worse, so I think I can handle it." You laugh and nudge his belly with the back of your hand, "Can't be in too much pain if y'keep making bad jokes." The shiver runs from his spine between his legs. Jesus Christ.

He's drifting off again, gone in his thoughts about you, about your hands, your hands on him while you're so close to him, so focused on your task. He's sure you can hear how wild his heart is thumping in his chest, or feel the fluttering of his pulse in his neck where your hand is resting again, keeping his head in place and occasionally tilting it towards the light. And he hopes you don't look down. Anything but that. He's dying to move, to let his hands feel yours, feel them on his body, eagerly exploring him.

You say something, but he doesn't hear what, he's too far gone, imagining what it would be like to feel those heavenly hands wrapped around his co— A snap in front of his face brings him back yet again.

"Sorry, what?" You tut, "What's got you so distracted today? Did you hit your head during that fight? I was asking if you feel any pain." He suppresses a groan, then swallows and only replies with "No." Somehow the pain only makes him crazier for you. "Good, then you're all done," you say with a smile and start putting the supplies back.

Jim tries to shake off his thoughts without making his head throb too much and gets up, now leaning with his lower back against the vanity, right next to you. "How many times can I come here 'fore you start charging me?" You chuckle to yourself at first, and his heart skips a beat again. As you look at him, you only now notice his busted lip and grab the still damp towel to wipe the dried blood off, standing between his legs, then wipe your thumb along the spot. "You're free to show up here anytime, big guy," you smile, and he's sure you don't mean to sound so sultry. Maybe it's his mind playing tricks on him. Still, there's no more denying the near painful strain in his jeans now. He's hoping you don't feel it, almost embarrassed about it. Any move to adjust himself will just draw your attention to it.

"Much appreciated," he replies smugly as you look at him. Everything about you is just—

"You seem awfully tense, you okay? Feeling dizzy or something?" He cocks his head slightly and bites the inside of his cheek, crossing his arms in front of his big chest. "Little headache," he lies.

You smirk at him, "Hm, little headache or maybe something else bothering you?"

Before he can ask what you mean, he feels your hand press against the outline of his cock, making him draw in a breath.

Jackpot.

You can almost see his thoughts racing behind his gorgeous eyes. You close your hand around him, just a bit, and the corner of his mouth twitches. He's uncrossed his arms, his hands gripping the vanity's edge as he stares you down. Your eyebrow cocks up, challenging, daring him.

Your heart's beating in your throat, and you can feel his body heat. Part of you doesn't know if what you're doing is wrong, if you should talk about what's happening or just stop right here and never speak of it again. This is definitely crossing a line and you don't know how things will be after. Yet another part is screaming at you to keep going, and you think he feels the same.

"You need me to take a look at this, too?" You ask, your voice suddenly quiet, a new undertone to it that Hop hasn't heard from you yet. You're getting cocky. He risks a quick look down to where your hand, smooth against the raging boner that's been straining his pants for at least fifteen minutes now, the ring he gifted you staring back at him. Oh, fuck. He clasps his big hand over yours and looks into your eyes again. God, yes. There's a glimmer in your eyes that almost undoes him then and there. "Don't look at me like that," he mutters.

His mind is racing, blood rushing through his body. He bites back a groan when you move your hand beneath his, your fingertips reaching his belt buckle. "What's wrong with how I look at you?"

He ignores your question, you're just teasing him right now, enjoying how he's losing himself. "You're what's distracting me. You and your damn hands." "My hands?"

He nods slowly and swallows. His body is screaming for some friction, some relief to the craziness that is this situation. You move your hand again and he lets it go, never breaking eye contact. You unbuckle his belt, popping the button of his jeans open. “You don’t have to–,” he starts, but you tut him. "What is it about my hands?" You ask innocently as you shove your fingertips behind the waistband of his boxers, slowly dragging them and his pants down just enough to wrap your hand around him. He breathes out with a hum as you oh so slowly drag your hand along his length, eyes fluttering close.

"This okay?"

He huffs out a laugh, not daring to look at you right now, his grip on the vanity tightening, "Yeah. More'n okay." "Now tell me what's so interesting about my hands that it's got you rock hard like this, Hopper," you say, and he can hear the damn smile in your voice. Your thumb wipes over the tip before you drag your hand down again, picking up the pace just a bit. He shakes his head and opens his eyes again to look at you. Oh, you're enjoying this a lot. His jaw tightens as he tries to find the right words. "Shut up," he grunts. "Aw, come on," you insist with a cheeky smile, "Just wanna know what goes on in that dirty Chief of Police mind of yours. What more is there when just my hands got you like this, hm?" You tighten your grip for a moment, and his belly tightens, keeping him from making a sound.

You murmur sweet nothings, encouraging him to indulge in his thoughts. His gaze drops down to your hand stroking him. “Your rings, fuck–” He loses his words as you twist your wrist just the right way, his knuckles turning white as he’s gripping the edge with all his power. “Oh, do you want me to take them off? Are they uncomfor–?” “No,” he replies, hips slightly moving towards your touch, a low groan rumbling in his chest, “Keep’em on.” “You like how they feel?” You ask. He takes another deep breath, focusing on just letting your hand work him. “Like how they look on you. ‘Specially that one,” he rumbles and you know which one he’s talking about. You bite the inside of your lip, but the smile still spreads as you look at him. “Hm, wonder why,” you muse, picking up your speed, urging him closer to the edge. He clears his throat hastily, “Don’t play stupid, you fucking know why.”

You stroke him faster, noticing his breath faltering a bit. One of his arms slings around your waist, pulling you closer to him to lean his forehead against yours, cussing under his breath. His hooded gaze bores into yours with such a carnal need and longing, almost making you lose momentum. Your free hand drifts up his torso, toying with the top button of his shirt and slowly popping it open, letting your fingertips lightly dance over his warm skin. Jim’s hips buck into your hand again and his eyes flutter close, he’s drawing in a sharp breath. “Tease,” he growls, followed by a short, breathless laugh. You chuckle softly, “What’s the matter, big guy?” He looks at you again, a light sparkle in his eyes, “Matter’s that I– hm, won’t be able t’stop myself ‘f you keep this up.”

“Then don’t.”

He scans your face for any signs of hesitation and just finds that maddening smile of yours again. His legs and belly tighten. His other hand cups your face and smashes your lips together for a heated, bruising kiss. His mustache scratches against your skin and you whimper at feeling him nip your bottom lip. Your body freezes momentarily, and you’re only brought back to reality by Jim’s hand wrapping around yours, tightening your grip around him even more, and moving your hand with his. “Just like that,” he hushes into your mouth and with a few more quick strokes the tension in his body finally snaps. He’s kissing you again, muffling his broken moan, tongue swiping over your lip.

You keep your fingers wrapped just below his tip, changing the grip in small pulses. Your thumb swipes over the sensitive head, making him shudder through his release, his warmth coating your hand and shirt. Your other hand is resting above his racing heart, beating so fast you’re worried he’s gonna be dizzy. He slowly tears his lips from yours, his thumb wiping softly over your cheek.

His eyes flick down for a second and his face flushes. “Sorry ‘bout the mess. Usually have better manners than that.” You look down and snort, tugging at your shirt, “Ah, this old thing’s seen worse.“ You smile as you bring your glistening fingers up, “As for these…”

Jim watches breathlessly as your tongue darts out to lick over each digit, releasing each with a wet pop. “You‘re enjoying yourself a lot right now,“ he notes with a smirk, smoothly tucking himself away. An innocent shrug is the only answer he gets. He rolls his eyes in feigned annoyance and clicks his tongue.

You grab his face to pull him in for another kiss. He can taste himself on your lips, feeling the blood rush through his body again, his fingertips tingling with eagerness to touch you. His hands drop to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping beneath, shoving the fabric up your torso. You raise your arms, letting him go all the way till he tosses your shirt aside, lips immediately locking together again. You chuckle.

“Not done with you yet,” he hums with a content sigh, “Time for payback.” “Careful with that, big guy, you’re still hurt.” He pecks your lips and smirks, “Thought we’d agreed I’ve had worse?”

I'm a slut for feedback so don't hold back and tell me how you liked this! Like, comment, reblog, slide in my asks, whatever you prefer! Thank you for reading, I hope you're eager for more.

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ievutebebe · 6 months

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𝑳𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏 + 𝑬𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 🌸🪻

This beautiful art was done by the talented @kotikomori

She did an incredible job of creating Elain and Lucien! They look so peaceful and lovely together sleeping in this flowery field!

And thank you to the lovely @foreverinelysian for helping me come up with this idea!

Link to Instagram post

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

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ievutebebe · 6 months

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girls will be like hm this song reminds me of the most tragic thing that has happened to me I think I'll listen to it on loop

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ievutebebe · 6 months

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Invisible String

Chapter 1

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

series summary: what happens when your blind date turns out to be your dad's friend? what if you catch feelings for him but he feels guilty?

chapter summary: your favourite restaurant sets up a game of blind dates and you secretly apply, not aware of what will happen.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: 18+, dad's best friend joel, age gap (Joel is in his early 40s and reader in her mid 20s), smut, unprotected p in v, spanking, pet names. let me know if I forgot anything!

author's note: hello everyone! this is my first dbf!joel fic and I hope you'll like it! let me know what you think with reblogs and comments, thank you! comment below if you want to be added to the taglist.

You nervously flatten the fabric of the black silky dress you’re wearing, drying the sweaty feeling on your hands, as you try to swallow the invisible knot that you feel in the back of your throat, while you wait for the waitress to walk you to your table.

This is probably the dumbest decision you’ve ever made, but you blamed it on the loneliness you were feeling and the few wine glasses that you downed when applying to take part in a blind date “game” your favorite restaurant set up.

It was a casualty that you found out, you were there to pick up the food you ordered when you spotted the small squared white sheet of paper on the counter, the words spelled out in big red letters.

Blind Dates Rodeo, Saturday at 8pm.

Send your application by email to the address below and wear your best clothes, your mystery person is waiting for you.

You chuckled to yourself while going back to where you were standing, placing the piece of paper in one of the pockets in your shoulder bag.

Your mom certainly would stop bothering you with annoying questions about your love life if you told her you were going on a date, or even better, bringing home someone in the future.

It’s actually been two years since your last relationship and you are just taking time for yourself, focusing on your growth and well being.

Your dad, on the other hand, was not so worried about this aspect of your life. He wanted you to be happy, he didn’t care if you managed to do that with a man by your side or on your own.

And you, well, you were focused on your freshly new career, the internship at the offices of a well known fashion magazine was taking taking up most of your time but you always felt a void caused by the lack of something, or better someone, when coming home, your parents house, from work.

You felt your cheeks become warmer, they blushed while you were filling the email to the restaurant, as if somebody was in your room watching you fill the application.

The light coming from the screen of your phone was reflected in your eyes and when you pressed “send”, in the comfort of your bed, you couldn’t help but start to fantasize about who your mistery date would be.

Will he be taller? Shorter? Blue or brown eyes? You hope he’s funny, but not too full of himself. Humble and not conceited, kind and… just a person you would enjoy going on a date with.

You don’t feel any pressure, actually a bit maybe, but if this date won’t turn out to be what you expect, that’s just how things are supposed to go and you’ll find the right one for sure sooner or later.

The days prior to Saturday go by pretty slowly, exactly like when you’re waiting for something to come so bad that days feel like an eternity. You have to admit you’re pretty excited about your blind date, nervous at times, but still happy that you applied. You even treated yourself to some new clothes on Friday after leaving the office. It was mainly because you wanted something cute to wear the next night, driven by the desperation you felt the late afternoon before when opening your wardrobe and finding, to be precise, fucking nothing you felt like wearing the next day.

Now, Saturday at 8 pm, you are cursing yourself for applying to this damn game of blind dates.

You feel terrified and anxious. The mirror in your bathroom probably unhooked itself from the wall, tired of how many times you checked yourself before leaving the house.

You loved your hair down, lightly wavy. You went to your room, paced around for a minute, then went back to the bathroom and totally hating what you were seeing in the reflection.

You were feeling insecure, too. The little voice in your head appearing from time to time, telling you that whatever you did you were not going to look good enough.

And yes, you were worried but you were not going to be late.

You collect all the strength and courage you have in your body and jump in your car, locking the doors in case you are going to regret what you are doing and drive off to the restaurant.

It was probably the most nerve-racking fifteen minute drive of your life, even your radio was off. Bad decision, your thoughts took over and spilled out of your head to overflow the cockpit of your car.

Now you’re standing right at the entrance of the restaurant, right after making your presence known to the workers. Nobody prepared you for how embarrassed you would feel, waiting among other people, who are well aware of the reason why you are here.

Some of them are waiting to be seated, like you, and others are already waiting at the table in the dining room, you can catch a glimpse of them from where you are.

Walking after the waitress directed to your table, you sense your legs might fail you and your heart as well.

You stop when you reach your destination, the waitress offering you a sympathetic smile before disappearing among the tables.

Your mystery man is sitting with his back towards you. His neck, covered with the slightly curly ends of his hair, is the only visible trait you can see, besides his broad shoulders. He doesn’t seem to notice your presence.

You lower your lids for a split second, gathering anything useful you can inside of you to break the silence and introduce yourself to your date.

You make a step to his right, protruding your hand to shake his, displaying the most sincere and beautiful smile on your face.

Your date’s brown eyes spot you and his most sincere and beautiful smile disappears from his face almost at the same time as your does.

“Joel?” You can’t control the nervous chuckle coming out from you, covering your mouth with your index and middle finger as you start choosing the right words for an explanation and hide your embarrassment.

“Shit, I’m so, so sorry. I-“ you shake your head. You can’t believe you’ve mistaken the table he’s sitting at with the one you’re probably assigned to, the one right beside it. There’s no way one of your dad’s closest friends is your blind date.

“I’m here for, uh..—“ you take a deep breath, “There’s this blind date game the restaurant organized and.. Well, I applied for it but probably got taken to the wro-“

“Me too.” Joel simply said, he probably and apparently figured it out quicker than you.

Joel Miller is your blind date.

Your dad’s friend, his mate for football games and fishing. The same Joel Miller who your mom would invite over for lunches or dinners almost every week. Whose fingers accidentally grazed your fingers, or thighs, more than once and sent jolts of electricity through your body.

“They probably made a mistake, I’m sorry, I’ll talk to them and t-“ you are about to walk away but the same girl who walked you to the table seems to notice the confused look on both of your faces, so she quickly comes up.

After checking her tablet on which all the matches are laid out, she assures you that you’re both at the right table.

“We’re both here for the same reason, I don’t think this is a mistake.” You can’t decipher his tone, but your anxiety convinces you that he’s probably disappointed his blind date turned out to be you.

“Oh.” It escapes from you without warning, and there’s nothing left to do for you besides sitting on the chair opposite to Joel and fully realize that you’re having a date with the man you often dreamed about.

You can’t deny his physical attractiveness, neither can you say that he was not the main protagonist in some of your secret fantasies. And how could you blame yourself?

Plus, he’s smart, funny, caring and kind and all these things made him so desirable. You were a witness of how he used these qualities with your dad, always being there for him and helping him.

He’s just a dream.

“It can’t get more embarrassing than this.” You whisper and you thought your voice was low enough for only you to hear but Joel chuckled amused, “’S fine, sweetheart. Just pretend it’s one of the many dinners at your house.” and with that said, the evening passes quite quickly.

You conversed about your and his job, hobbies, movies, books, whatever exists in this world.

He congratulated himself on you freshly new job, always knew you were a step ahead of others he said, and that made your heart skip a beat.

Talking to Joel is so easy, it’s like talking to an old friend. It’s not that you didn’t hold conversations with him when he was over, but it’s different. Your parents are not around, you can let your thoughts flow around without being worried of judgement.

You feel as light as a feather, reaching the end of the dinner. You haven’t felt this good in a while, as if going on a date with your dad’s friend and talking about anything, even silly things, was the key to any problem in the world.

Your car’s tyre has a puncture? You can’t solve a math problem? You dropped a glass and broke it?

Go on a date with Joel Miller and everything will solve on its own.

You almost get annoyed when he insists on paying for you both, ‘M sorry, Miss I’m independent now he jokes, keeping the door open for you to exit the restaurant.

Joel is a step before you as he walks you to your car and that’s when you have the chance to check him out. He’s wearing a black shirt, its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the first two buttons out of their holes. The black trousers he’s wearing perfectly wrap his muscular thighs, his big hands covered in their pockets.

You can’t deny there was, and still is, some kind of tension between you two throughout the whole meal. Stolen glances, him focusing some seconds too much on your lips as you trapped a cherry between them to eat it. Or when his fingers lingered against your fingers while passing you salt.

There’s no way have imagined it. What if you were the main protagonist of his fantasies too?

It’s not just now, but the past year too. There’s been a glint in his eyes whenever his focus was on you, a gleam of adoration mixed with guilt and bad, bad guy. His smiles thrown at you through a crowd of people at family gatherings, he was invited too because he’s like family your dad always says.

He has always been interested in your studies, what you were up to, your opinions on topics brought up at dinner. It always seemed like he wanted to know more.

That can’t be, you’re his buddy’s daughter. He’s too good, too loyal, too honest to get caught in this. And you’re younger than him.

When you get to your car, the same embarrassment felt at the restaurant fills the air. Should you hug him after thanking him for the great night? Kiss him on the cheek? A pat on the shoulder?

“Thank you, Joel. I had an amazing night and-“

“Thank you,” he starts talking at the same time you do, causing you both to erupt in a light and contained laugh. The pad of his thumb slightly scratches the end of his mustache, the smile adorning his face, directed to you, does not disappear.

He then drops his gaze to the ground, contemplating it for a couple of seconds. He shakes his head and almost chuckles again, Fuck it he whispers and with two big steps he closes the distance between your bodies. His veiny hands are planted on both sides of your face and he traps your soft lips in a needy but gentle kiss, not giving you time to even blink.

No need to say your heart almost broke your ribcage, hitting against it as if wanting to get out. Your fingers quickly find the curly hair at the nape of his neck, pulling it once your tongues touch.

“Fuck, Joel” you whimper, as his face is deep between your legs, your body laying on the backseats of your car.

Your fingers are tangled in his chocolate brown hair, his mustache grazing the soft skin of your folds as he moves his tongue up and down, then in circles before tapping the tip of it at your entrance, inserting it.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” Joel lets you know and you whimper from his warm breath against your centre.

It doesn’t take you long at all to come the first time, wetting his beard with your spent, as you try to set your breath to a normal pace.

And you don’t think about the consequences of your actions when Joel is sitting in the middle seat, his pants lowered to his ankles and you, slowly but needy, lower yourself on him, engulfing his cock in your warm folds.

You are straddling his legs, while his hands secure the end of your dress to your waist.

“You’re takin’ me so good, baby.” His long sighs make company to your moans and whimpers of his name, “Who would’a thought this pretty pussy could take my cock so good.”

Joel’s hands are now on your asscheeks as he guides your movements on him, slapping the right one every time he would touch the spongy spot inside you with his tip.

He bites your jaw close to your chin to suppress some of his moans. At some point he places his hands firmly on your hips, pushing into you harder.

“Look at me, babygirl. Jus’ look at me,” he fixes his eyes on yours, making your foreheads collide. The moment feels way more intense, you grip his shoulders to help you stabilize.

“You feel so good, you’re.. ah” you whimper his name again and again, like a one-word poetry.

It doesn’t feel wrong at all, knowing how your dad’s friend’s hands feel around your throat as he praises you, while pushing his cock far into you.

And it’s way better than any of your forbidden dreams about Joel.

228 notes · View notes

ievutebebe · 6 months

Text

I NEED SIMONS C-😫😫😫

A Man of His Word | Simon indulges your CNC kink.

AFAB/Fem!Reader x Simon “Ghost” Riley.

Summary: You tell Simon you want to try CNC. He delivers.

A/N: So nervous to post this but fuck it we ball. First time writing Ghost, absolute madlad that he is. Thank you @merz-8 for giving this a look over!

Words:7,248 (Oops?)

[AO3]

Warnings: This is a CNC (Consensual Non-Consent fic) Reader is ok with everything going on here, any panic/disgust comes from playing into the scenario, reader will only express true discomfort through use of a safe word (not mentioned here but it is established they have them).

Proceed with caution as this will not be for everyone. Read the warnings under the cut.

Warnings: Consensual Non-Consent, Consensual non0consensual Somnophilia, Degradation(Simon is mean reader is called a bitch, a whore, a slut), Pet Names(love, sweetheart), Anal Fingering, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Ass Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Rough Kissing, Throat Fucking, Blow Jobs, Rough Oral Sex, Oral Sex, Aftercare, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Breeding, Forced Breeding, Doggy Style, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Choking, FearNo description of reader except they have a vagina, breasts, and are reasonably believed to be able-bodied. No race or appearance specified.

You’re drumming your fingertips on the top of the kitchen worktop – waiting for a text from Simon to tell you he’s been delayed – when the sound of keys jostling in the door snap you out of your thoughts. You’re relieved to see him, there’s always some anxiety around whether or not Simon was going to come home to you, the nature of his job was something you struggled with in the beginning. But now you’ve made peace with that anxiety, because you’d rather suffer the uncertainty, than to be adrift in this world without him.

But, on this occasion, you had hoped to receive the text to say he’s been delayed. For a distinctly salacious reason.

A few weeks ago, after a particularly long deployment and a shared bottle of wine, you’d admitted one of your deepest, darkest fantasies to Simon.

You were tangled in bed, lying face to face as Simon languidly dragged his cock through your tight walls. Your fingertips traced the lines of his face, both the hard slopes of his nose and cheekbones, and the scars littered across his handsome face.

“Hey, Si?” You’d whispered as you adjusted the leg draped over his hip, pulling him in deeper. He had groaned, rolling his hips at the way you helped him bury himself so tight in your pussy.

“Ye?” He snarled, dick twitching inside you as you bit your lip, “What is it love?”

“You know what CNC is right?”

A groan had ripped through Simon’s chest as he pulled almost all the way out before he snapped his hips deep inside you, evidently, he did know what it meant.

“Fuck,” he had hissed through gritted teeth, “‘m guessin’ you don’t mean industrial laser cutters?”

“No,” you had laughed, pressing your forehead to his as you had scraped your nails down his muscular torso, making him shudder beneath you, “I think you know what I mean, Si.”

“You tryin’ to tell me something?” He asked as his icy eyes had met your own, blown out pupils hazy with desire and you suddenly felt embarrassed, the fleeting confidence depleted once you’d said it aloud.

“Forget it,” you’d groaned as you had buried your face in his broad chest, “It’s stupid.”

As always, Simon wasn’t going to let something like this go without a fight.

“C’mon, don’t get all shy on me,” he had said, voice low and husky as he began rocking his hips into you at pace, driving soft gasps from you with every thrust, “D’ya want to role play? Is that it?”

Your head snapped up and you clenched hard around him at the cocky grin on his face.

“Yes,” your admission hung in the air between you as Simon let out a low groan, his smirk turned feral.

“Yeah?” He rasped as he gripped your hips, rolling you onto your back, still buried deep inside you, “Kinky girl, what do you want me to do? Tell me.”

You rolled your hips up to meet Simon’s thrusts, whimpering with every slow, purposeful thrust into your wet het. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you pulled him impossibly close, his broad chest pressed flush to your own as you whispered in his ear.

“I want you to surprise me,” you began as you pressed a barely-there kiss to the corner of his jaw, “I want you to catch me unawares. I want you to degrade me and take me while I fight back, I want to make you work for this desperate little hole. Dominate me Si, show me how much of a filthy whore I am.”

Simon’s eyes grew dark as you felt his broad palms on the backs of your thighs, bending your knees over his shoulder as he wordlessly pinned you down.

“Jesus Christ,” he said with a groan as he picked up the pace, “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he rambled as he filled you over and over again, fucking hard and fast into your tight cunt as you writhed and mewled under him.

“Next time I’m off on deployment,” he continued as he dropped a hand down to your swollen, throbbing clit, “Maybe I’m delayed, leaving you all frustrated and alone.”

“Fuck yeah, Simon,” your voice was barely more than a strangled moan as the pressure in your core built.

“Then maybe you’re a stupid little slut and leave a window open, yeah?” He continued as his breath came in ragged bursts, he was close, “I slip in and show you the consequences of being a dumb little bitch? How’s that sound?”

“Yes,” you panted as the degradation short circuited your brain, “I want that so bad, fucking use my cunt, make me beg, fuck Si!” You came with a wail as Simon fucked you so hard you saw stars. He followed soon after, coming deep inside you with a roar.

Later, after a shower, a few pints of water and some snacks, you confirmed the details, including hard no’s and safe words. After that, all you had to do was wait.

“Sorry love, traffic was a bloody nightmare,” Simon calls from the front door as you turn to see him saunter inside.

You can’t help but smile as you see him, his broad chest stretching his plain black t-shirt at the seams. His cloth face mask covering his mouth and nose, and his grey hoodie pulled up so that all you can see of his face are his ice-blue eyes.

“You back in one piece?” You ask coyly as you close the distance between you, rocking up onto your tiptoes so you can drape your arms around his neck. You scrape your nails across the short, blunt hair at the base of his skull as you push his hood back.

“Somethin’ like that,” he rasps as he peels off his face mask, “Need to take a shower, fancy ordering in?”

“Sure, I’ll call while you’re in the shower,” you say as you lean up to kiss him.

Simon hums softly as his broad hands fall to your waist, fingertips digging into your hips as he pulls you flush against him. You melt into his large form, lips sliding over his as you feel heat pool in your belly.

But it’s over too soon, Simon pulls back with a half-hearted grin on his face as you try not to pout up at him.

“Go on, I’ll see you in a few,” he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before heading to the bathroom. The door closes with a soft click, and you can’t help but feel a little disappointed.

The evening passes without event, both of you eating your fill and sharing a few drinks before you’re curled up, fast asleep with your head in Simon’s lap. He tries to rouse you but you’re dead to the world.

A smile creeps over his lips as he pops a small blue pill between his teeth and gulps down some water before carrying you to bed. You don’t so much as stir as he tucks you into the middle of your shared bed. He smiles to himself as he leaves the door open a fraction as he retreats into your apartment.

He has prep to do.

~*~

You shiver, eyes cracking open as you slowly come around. You’re in bed, but you don’t remember falling asleep. The bed is bare but for a fitted sheet and a single pillow. You clutch at the sleep shorts and oversized t-shirt you don’t remember putting on.

Simon must have taken me to bed.

You think to yourself as you hear the rhythmic flapping of your living room curtains in the other room.

“Si?” You call out into the gloom, fumbling for the light switch.

Click.

You frown as the light stays off before padding into the living room, the bare wood cool on your toes as you continue to shiver slightly. You feel a pang of shame as you walk, your cunt is soaked, your slick folds sliding obscenely with every step. So wet you dip your hand below your waistband to check you haven’t gotten your period early. You frown in confusion as you wipe your fingers in your shorts.

No blood.

“Simon?” You repeat as you reach the open sash window, vaguely registering that you hadn’t opened it all day. You rub your eyes with the back of your other hand as you turn to face the dark expanse of your apartment, something feels off. You pat your shorts, looking for your phone but realise you must have left it on the nightstand.

You trudge back into the bedroom, closing the door behind you, your tired eyes missing the dark shadow looming behind the door.

Your phone isn’t where you usually keep it. You’re finally coming round enough to feel a sense of dread and unease slither up your spine. Then you hear it, the softest brush of fabric as something – no – someone moves behind you.

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as you try not to react. Your heartbeat hammers in your ears as you try to breathe evenly. You crouch down, opening the bottom drawer of your nightstand slowly as you sense movement behind you.

You reach into the drawer to retrieve the hunting knife you keep there; you’ve always hoped that you would never have to use it. To your dismay, the knife is gone but before you can panic you see a note in familiar handwriting.

Thought I’d forgotten, didn’t you? Surprise sweetheart, remember to safe word if you need it. The moment you turn around we start for real.

“Looking for something, love?” A gravelly rasp asks mockingly from behind you. You don’t turn around straight away, slowly you reach for something else in your second drawer. Adrenaline is coursing through you still, but you have to keep yourself from smiling now. Gone is the fear, the unease washed away by the comfort of safety and security of role-play.

You’re excited.

“Look, take what you want,” you say, your voice comes out more even than you expected as excitement thrums through your body, “There’s a safe under the bed, I can tell you-,”

You’re cut off by a barking laugh. It’s a cruel, sadistic, sound as he takes a heavy, purposeful step towards you. You have to keep telling yourself not to think of him as anything but an intruder.

“Not interested in your money, daft cunt,” The voice makes your gut twist, it’s familiar, but altogether alien as you slowly rise to your feet. Something about the way Simon’s voice is lower, darker somehow, has your cunt throbbing.

“Then what?” You ask, voice trembling as adrenaline continues to pump through your veins, you know the answer, there is only one answer to that question.

“I,” the voice starts as you hear him stride towards you, “Want- no,” he pauses as you feel his impossibly large form crowd you from behind, “I’m going to fuck this sweet, needy little cunt,” you feel a gloved hand press against your belly before it slides down to cup your mound over your shorts. His whole hand swallows your sex, his palm pressed against the curve of your pubic bone as three thick fingers prod at your clothed core.

“Please,” you whimper, “Just leave me alone, I have money, we can go to a cash machine-,” you try and bargain, but a large hand grabs the back of your neck as he bends you forward. You smell an unfamiliar aftershave, cheap and cloying as he curls around you. His familiar scent is concealed but you can still smell a hint of him through it all.

“You really that fuckin’ dumb? Didn’t you hear me? I’m not interested in money,” he snaps as he presses his groin against your ass, “I’m going to take what I want from you, and if you’re a good girl I might even let you live.”

You stifle a whine at the sincerity behind Simon’s tone, you almost believe him, which only makes you wetter. His presence is suffocating, and you try your best to feign a sense of dread, but it’s hard when you can feel the evidence of your arousal every time you squirm.

“Ok fine,” you go limp, gripping something tightly in your right hand as you feign compliance, “Just get it over with.”

“Sweet little thing, I’m going to take my time with you,” the man behind you says with a sneer as he tries to turn you around, clearly trying to push you down onto the bed.

But you’re ready for it.

The moment you feel his grip alter you’re twisting on the spot, using your hips to leverage a wild swing of your right hand. Your blow almost lands and you’re ready to celebrate when a large hand snatches your wrist mid-air.

The base of the six-inch glass dildo stops just short of the intruder’s face. You recoil in horror as you see the black balaclava adorned with a crude, white skull. You can see the sick joy in the sparkling blue eyes that seem to bore into your very soul.

“That,” he punctuates the single word with a click of his tongue, “Was really fucking stupid,” he snarls as he shoves you down onto the bed.

Your back hits the bare sheet, glass toy clattering on the ground as it slips from your grasp. Before you can move, he’s bearing down on you, his sheer mass smothering you as he traps your hips between his broad thighs.

“I’m so glad you decided to make this interesting, sweetheart,” he rasps as he snatches your hands and pulls them above your head, securing them together in his left as he slowly trails his right hand down your cheek.

It’s almost a tender gesture, but you turn your head away, trashing futilely against the weight bearing down on you and pulling hard on the hand that pins you in place. He only laughs at this, tightening it with every defiant tug. You swallow around the lump in your throat as you feel the hard bulge in your assailant’s trousers grind against the damp fabric of your shorts.

“C’mon,” he growls as he brushes his gloved fingertips over your lips, “Don’t act like you’re not fucking drenched for me right now.”

“Fuck you,” you hiss as you pant up at him, trying to avoid the way that your clit throbs at the friction as he slowly rolls his rock-hard bulge against your mound. You want to throw your head back and moan at the sensation but you won’t give him the satisfaction.

“You telling me you’re not soaked under these slutty little shorts?” He asks, taunting you as the harsh leather of his glove trails down your chin.

You watch as he flattens his palm on your chest, his broad hand pawing at each of your breasts in turn. You have to bite your lip as he finds each of your nipples through the fabric with ease, tweaking them firmly to bring them to stiff peaks. Your cunt clenches and you can’t help the way your hips try and buck up to chase for some friction.

“See? Filthy slut like you just loves this don’tya?” He says with a laugh as you glare silently up at him. He’s a picture of menace as his eyes rake over your heaving chest and down to where his fingers are now toying with the hem of your shirt, riding it up to expose your soft belly. You want to buck away from his lecherous touch. But you can’t, he’s too big, too heavy.

“So,” he pauses as the leather scrapes above the waistband of your shorts, “Am I going to find a sopping wet cunt under here?”

He hooks a finger under the elasticated band, and you shake your head furiously. The brush of his fingers on your sensitive skin makes your clit ache. He stretches your arms taut above your head with his other hand as he dips his head down to whisper in your ear.

“Lying to me will only make it worse,” he warns as his fingers dip lower over the curve of your pubic bone, “Are. You. Wet?”

You consider lying, but you’re already drenched, not just from before. The way his scent invades your senses, the manhandling, the rough register of his voice. You’re trying so hard not to enjoy this, but your body just won’t listen.

“Yes,” you whimper as you feel his hand retreat and you almost cry in relief as he chuckles low in your ear.

“I know,” he leers as he pulls his hand up to your mouth, “Sweet little cunt was just begging to be played with while you slept.”

“What the fuck?” You hiss, eyes going wide as he wraps his hand around your jaw, holding you in place as you try and squirm away from him.

“Been here a while sweetheart,” he murmurs as you hear him inhale deeply, burying his masked face in the crook of your neck, “You were sleeping so soundly, I bet I could have stuck my cock in that whore pussy of yours and you wouldn’t have woken up.”

“You’re lying,” you mewl and the thought of him using you while you slept has you breathing hard around a knot in your chest, you shouldn’t be so turned on. Your skin burns with a deep shame as you can’t help but shudder pleasantly.

“I’ll prove it,” he chuckles as you feel the grip on your neck recede.

You watch as he slowly peels up the bottom of his face mask, revealing plush lips haloed and spliced with scars as they turn up into a smirk. You’re about to ask what he means when his lips crash into yours. His thick, heavy tongue breaches your mouth and you’re helpless to resist the whine that gurgles in your throat.

He drags his tongue along your own, languidly licking into your mouth as he grinds his hips down. You taste yourself immediately and you can’t help but enjoy the familiar musk. He slowly retreats and you find yourself chasing his mouth. You purse your lips defiantly as you scowl up at him.

“See,” he breathes against your lips as he no doubt feels the way your body is reacting, “Sweet, isn’t it?”

“You’re a fucking psycho,” you spit, heart hammering in your chest as you try and thrash out of his grip once more, but it only serves to make him laugh.

“Maybe,” he says with a shrug as he brings his hand to his mouth, pinching the leather between his teeth as he gently tugs it off, “What does that say about you, huh? Getting off on a psycho eating her cunt while she sleeps.”

You feel the heat prickle under your skin at the truth behind his words, but you say nothing, fuck you being a little redundant at this point. You hear the slap of the glove hit the floor and you watch as he slips his hand back under the band of your shorts.

You’re about to cry out in protest as you feel his fingers nudge at your clit. Your mind goes blank as you feel the bittersweet pleasure course through your body. His fingers are thick and rough as they circle your slick bud slowly. You let out a breathy whine as you feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

“There she is,” he groans softly as he slides his fingers lower against the tight seam of your cunt, “Spread your legs like a good whore, yeah?”

He widens his stance, shifting his knees to give you room to do as you’re told, and it’s like your body moves on its own. The moment the tension on your thighs eases they part, inviting him in. Two of his fingers slide inside you with little resistance and you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“Fuck,” Simon growls as he buries his fingers down to the knuckle, “Tight little cunt is going to struggle with my cock,” he laughs as he feels you clamp down on his digits, “You like the idea of me splitting you open?” Another clench has him fucking you faster on his fingers, “Yeah she does.”

“Please,” you whine as his thumb finds your clit, you don’t know what you’re even pleading for as your toes curl in pleasure.

“Settle down, pet,” he murmurs against the corner your jaw before licking a long, wet stripe across your cheek before sticking his tongue back into your mouth. It’s disgusting and unnerving but you can’t help but keen, your back arching up from the bed as you quiver in debased euphoria.

You moan at the way his fingers and tongue are filling you completely, claiming both holes as his own as he ruts his hard length against your thigh. Your orgasm bursts through you, rocking your body with poisonous rapture as you come all over the thick fingers buried in your cunt.

“Good,” Simon rasps as he continues to fuck your overstimulated pussy with his fingers, “Let it happen,” he coaxes you through your release and you clamp your thighs around his forearm, silently begging him to stop as you ache from overstimulation.

“Aw, does the little slut need a break?” He coos venomously as he continues to pump his fingers inside you, curling them up against that sweet spot as you weep, your body trembling and convulsing as you whimper for him to stop.

“Please, too much.”

“Alright sweetheart,” he says as he nips at your jaw, eliciting another mewl from your gaping mouth, “I’ll give this hole a break.”

You sigh in relief, even though you know he’s far from done, the respite is welcome. You’re surprised when you feel the pressure on your wrists ease, then disappear. The weight on your hips shifts and you look up to see the smirk on his partially concealed face. The skull on the balaclava still sending shivers down your spine.

“On your knees,” the intruder orders as he shifts to the end of the bed, one hand on his belt, “Now.”

You consider running now, he’s given you enough time and space to afford the opportunity to do it. But you freeze as you flick your eyes to the door and back up into the face of the intruder. There’s a challenge in his cold eyes, one that dares you to try.

The idiom, “giving someone enough rope to hang themselves with” comes to mind and you swallow thickly as you dismiss the notion. You get on your knees and shuffle to the end of your bed; the wet evidence of your arousal is cool on your knees as you cross the spot where you had just been lying.

“Good little bitch,” the intruder praises you and you grimace at the way it turns you on, “thought it’d take longer to break you in.”

You say nothing as you wait for his next command, both out of fear of reprisal for not obeying his order to the letter, and to delay the inevitable.

“Even waiting for her next command like a good girl,” he snarls as he cups your jaw with his gloved hand, “You’re going to suck my cock now, if that wasn’t clear?”

You nod, eyes downcast as you try not to flinch away from his cruel touch. You yelp as his grip twists and he grabs your face roughly, fingers and thumb pressing into your cheeks, as he forces you to look at him. You splutter at the way he’s forced your lips apart as tears spring at the corners of your eyes.

“Answer when you’re spoken to,” he snarls.

“Sorry,” you whimper, spluttering through your forcibly parted lips.

“Sorry, what?” He shakes you a little and you let out a groan as you blink away the tears.

“Sir, sorry, Sir,” you respond, hoping it’s the right answer.

“Good girl,” he hums as he loosens his grip, “Take your clothes off.”

“But-,” you splutter, forgetting yourself just a second too late before a hand fists in the front of your shirt. There’s a warning in the way he hauls you up to meet his gaze, your thighs hurt as you try and keep balanced on the bed.

“I said, strip.”

“Yes, Sir,” you submit as he smirks down at you.

Quickly you shed your shirt and you try to ignore the hiss that escapes his lips as your breasts spring free. You awkwardly peel off your shorts and before you can throw them aside he catches your wrist and you cower at the look in his eye.

“I’ll take those,” his voice is dark as he snatches them from your hand and brings them to his face, “Fu-uck,” he groans as he takes a deep inhale of the soaked crotch.

You hate the way it stirs something inside you, a creep like him huffing at your arousal while you kneel before him. You should be disgusted but all you want is him to bury his face at the source.

“Get to it,” he remarks almost lazily as he gives you a sideways look, his face still buried in your soiled shorts.

You don’t respond this time, unsure if you can even form words at this point. You make quick work of his belt, the quick release clasp makes a loud clinking sound as it detaches. You suck in a breath as you peel his zipper down to reveal he’s not wearing underwear.

His thick, leaking cock springs free and you salivate at the way his foreskin strains against his tip, smeared with precome. You clearly take too long to get to work as a large hand grabs the back of your neck, pulling you flush against his shaft as he pins his hips to your face.

“I won’t tell you again, suck.”

He pulls his hips back, his hand still tight on the back of your neck as you bring your hands up to steady his cock. You wrap your dominant hand around the base of his cock as you brace the other on his thigh for balance.

He’s smooth and thick in your hand as you slowly pull back his foreskin to reveal his dark, weeping head. He’s huge, both long and thick and you don’t know how you’re going to fit it in. You make a precursory lick on the underside of his head, trying not to moan at the way his salty spend coats your tongue.

“There it is,” he grunts above you as you circle his head, gathering his precome almost greedily before slotting your lips around it, “Go on, don’t be shy.”

He presses you down onto his cock with the hand on the back of your head, forcing the first few inches inside. You splutter at the sudden intrusion, hollowing your cheeks to stop yourself from gagging. You look up through bleary eyes to see his mouth agape, his eyes glassy as he watches his dick disappear into the wet heat of your mouth.

You moan around him as you squeeze the base of his cock, losing yourself to the moment as you bob your head up and down his length. You convince yourself that if he just comes in your mouth he’ll be satisfied, so you make it your goal to make him do just that.

“Oh fuck,” you hear him huff above you as you remove the hand at the back of his cock, pushing yourself down until your nose is brushing against the wiry hair at the base, “Good fucking slut, taking this cock so well.”

You hum around it as you continue to work your mouth up and down, pulling almost all the way out to lap and suckle at his head. You use the tip of your tongue to toy with his slit and he shudders, you smile to yourself before committing to something more.

You relax your mouth as much as possible before starting to take him deep in your throat with hard, fast movements. The wet sound of you burying his cock deep in your throat is loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Eager girl,” he says through gritted teeth, “But you ain’t as clever as you think,” he chuckles as he rocks his hips forward to meet your eager mouth.

You cough and splutter around him as he picks up the pace fucking your throat until tears are streaming down your face. He finally relents as you feel your throat contract, threatening to make you gag. You gasp for air as he holds your head back, forcing you to look up at him as he grins down at you.

“You think I’d just nut in your mouth and leave?” He taunts as he pushes you back down on the bed, “No chance, love,” he says, almost dotingly as he peels off his black t-shirt, revealing his swirling tattoos and scarred body, “I found those cheeky blue pills in your medicine cabinet, I can go all night if I want to.”

You look up at him, ashamedly open mouthed as you feel the arousal swirling in your core. The thrill of the role-play and the preparation Simon had done for you makes you gush. You can feel it as your slick coats your thighs as you lie there, completely at his mercy as he shucks off his black cargo pants.

“There she is,” he says with a smirk as he crawls over you, pushing your thighs apart as he kneels between them, “Submissive little bitch.”

You ball your fists at your sides as you glare up at the half-masked man above you. His thighs hit the backs of yours and you shudder as his thick cock rests on your slick folds. Your body craves to be filled, ruined by this man, even if you try to tell yourself otherwise. Your mind drifts to Simon, your Simon, not the man above you and there’s a pang of instinctual shame in your belly as you try and close your legs.

“Oh, you found some bite huh?” The intruder grins as he speaks, his tongue darting out over his lower lip as he slowly rolls his hips, raking his length through your slit, bumping your clit with the tip slowly, purposefully.

You writhe beneath him, pathetic panting mewls escaping you as you squeeze your eyes shut. His hands home to rest on your hips and you instinctively try to push them away, it’s pointless as you feel the low rumble of a laugh rock through you as his fingers dig in deep enough to bruise.

“What’sa matter slut? Worried your little cunt can’t take my cock?”

You shake your head as you try and squirm out from under him, but he shakes you forcefully, pinning you back down into the sheets.

“Tell me,” he grunts as he rolls his hips back, letting his tip slip through your folds and notch for a brief moment at your core, “Don’t be shy.”

“Thinking about my boyfriend,” you mutter, shame slithering under your skin as you try not to buck up against the blunt head of his cock at your entrance. It’s like you’re thrumming with energy, desperate to be filled.

“Poor baby,” he coos as he sits back on his heels, removing his cock from you as he tilts his head to the side, “You’re never going to be satisfied by his little prick after I’m finished with you.”

“No,” you shake your head as you try and twist out of his grip again, “Don’t want to think about him,” you groan and to your surprise you manage to turn, denying him your bare cunt for the briefest of moments.

“I think you should,” the intruder sneers as you feel him flip you over onto your front, only now do you realise he let you squirm, just to get you like this, “Think about him while I do this to you.”

He commands as he pushes your hips up so you’re forced onto your knees, ass in the air as your face presses into the sheet below. You turn your head, about to ask what he’s talking about when you feel his thumbs press into the seam of your ass, spreading you wide. You don’t have a moment to think before his tongue glides through your folds, the press of his nose against your ass has you groaning.

Your legs quake as he takes your clit between his lips, sucking slowly as his tongue swirls around your aching bud.

“Tastes even better now,” the intruder moans into your dripping folds as he grazes his teeth on your clit, “Such a sweet little pussy, wet and dripping just for me.”

You cry out in pleasure as he slurps messily at your cunt, inhaling deeply as he works you over. Again and again he licks broad, slow stripes through your folds only to nip and suck hard at your clit with feral abandon. You’re trying hard not to come for him, to ignore the pressure building in your core as you feel two thick fingers press into you behind, followed by his thumb rolling over the puckered ring of your asshole.

“Such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs against your cunt as you clench hard around his fingers as he uses his thumb to knead your tight hole, “Wonder how good your ass will take me.”

“Please, no,” you whimper as you feel the pleasure streak through you, the way he’s playing with your ass makes your clit tingle. You’re going to come, you know it, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Not tonight, love,” he reassures you, but you cry out as he presses his thumb inside you, “Maybe some other time.”

You don’t have the chance to question him as your orgasm rips through you like a tidal wave. His broad tongue lashes against your clit as he fucks your asshole and pussy in tandem. The combined pleasure pulses through you as you scream into the sheet below, fists curled into the soft cotton as you quake and tremble through one of the most powerful orgasms of your life.

“There you go, such a good little whore,” he says as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your holes, “Nice and loose for me now.”

You barely register his words as you feel him shifting behind you. Your brain is a soupy mess of adrenaline and endorphins as you feel aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you. You nuzzle into the bedsheets, the smell of sex, your detergent, and somehow Simon’s musk fill your nostrils and you close your eyes for a moment.

“No fallin’ asleep on me now,” you hear a harsh voice from behind you before a sharp crack ripples across your asscheek. You arch your back in pleasure and pain as the impact sends heat straight to your drooling cunt, “Want you to remember just how well I split this little hole open.”

You feel his tip notch at your core, and you whine, arching your back at the familiar stretch as he presses just the head inside you.

“Good girl,” he hums as you feel his broad hands slide down from your waist, rubbing firmly over your ass as he kneads the pillowy flesh, “Knew you’d take me well, knew you’d fucking love being fucked by a psycho like me.”

“So good,” you groan as he stretches you out, throwing your insult from earlier back in your face. You feel like you should feel shame, disgust even. But all you can think about is how you want him to fuck you so hard you pass out. You want to come on his obscenely large cock and ruin the sheets below you.

“So big,” you whimper into the sheets as you look over your shoulder at him. His mouth is twisted in a grimace as he focuses on your pussy. He’s savouring every second of his dick splitting you in two.

He’s slow but firm, never giving you more than a second to adjust before forcing himself deeper into your slick cunt. He’s so big, you can barely breathe as he pulls you back onto his cock, spearing you on it as he groans low in his chest.

“So full,” you pant as his eyes lock onto yours as he leans forward, pressing his chest against your back. Your knees wobble and you’re helpless to resist as he presses you down into a prone position. Your cunt clenches as it feels even tighter, his cock sitting heavy and deep within you as he smothers you with his large body.

“Never want to stop fucking this tight little hole,” he rasps in your ear as you feel him roll his hips, “Feels like fuckin’ heaven.”

He drags his cock through your walls, pulling almost all the way out before plunging deep inside you. Each time stretching you out around him, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you that makes you cry out in bliss.

“You like that?” He snarls as he picks up the pace, fucking down into you as he sucks the column of your neck, he’s marking you as he tears you up inside, “You like being fucked dumb?”

“Yes,” you whisper, unable to stop yourself babbling at the way he fills you so completely with every snap of his hips, “Yes, sir.”

“Good fucking slut,” his harsh praise makes you weak as he snakes a had under you, thick fingertips finding your clit as he pounds into you, “Come on my cock, come on, milk me dry.”

You clench at his words but the thought of him coming inside you snaps you out of your cock drunk haze.

“Wait,” you plead as he picks up the pace, clearly chasing his release as he rubs your clit with frenzied fingers, “Don’t, not inside.”

You try and move but you’re utterly pinned, his one hand on your clit pinning you back against him as he fucks you with desperation now. You feel the panic rise in your throat at the same time pleasure burns in the pit of your stomach. You’re so close you don’t think you can hold back much longer.

“Going to fill this little cunt with my come, fuck it deep inside,” he grunts in your ear as he nips harshly at your skin, “Maybe knock you up, make sure you keep coming back for more.”

“Please, no,” you whimper as you clench around his thick length, his tip slamming home into that sweet spot deep inside you, “Pull out,” you beg as you feel his pace quicken as his rhythm falters.

“Going to fucking breed you, love,” he coos almost affectionately as he pressures your clit just right that you see stars, “There we go, milk it good, gonna fill you to the brim.”

You come hard with a scream as you fist the sheets, squirming beneath the suffocating weight of the intruder as he fucks you through it. Your toes curl and your mouth falls slack as you whimper and moan, pleasure spasming through you like electric pulses.

“Fuckin’ yeah,” the intruder roars in your ear as he punches his cock deep inside you as he comes. You feel the way his cock pulses and twitches inside you, and you can’t help but moan. He comes for what seems like minutes before he falls forward, still grinding his spent dick inside you as he mouths at your shoulder.

You lie there, blissed out and shuddering through your aftershocks, filled with his come as it trickles out of your hole around his softening cock.

“There you are pet,” he croons in your ear, “All fucking mine now.”

You turn your head to press your cheek against the still-present balaclava and hum softly. The spell broken as you press a soft kiss to his jaw and hum contentedly.

“All yours, baby,” you sigh and you feel the corners of his mouth twitch up as he comes down from his high.

“You doing ok sweetheart?” He asks, slowly propping himself up on his elbows as he relieves you of his weight.

“Fucking amazing,” you sigh as you roll onto your back, Simon’s cock slipping out of you with ease as you notice the wet trickle of your combined spend flow down your ass crack and onto the sheets below. You silently praise the birth control you’re on as you savour the way it feels.

“Didn’t hurt you?” He asks with glassy eyes as he removes the balaclava, “Didn’t upset you none?”

“I meant it Si,” you say with a lazy smile on your lips, “Was fucking amazing, perfect even.”

A boyish grin spreads across his lips and he dips his head down to kiss you softly, savouring you gently, tenderly.

“Going to flip the breaker switches and put the kettle on, heat you up some of those leftovers after I’ve got you in the shower, ok?” He says softly, lips brushing yours as you nod slowly.

“Sounds good,” you hum as your eyelids flutter shut.

“Stay awake, need to get you cleaned up, you smell like another man,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you force them open.

“So do you,” you say with a frown and he cups your jaw as he places one last kiss on your lips.

“No shit,” he laughs and your stomach flutters at the gruff sound.

“Si?” You call after him as he pads over to the dresser at the far end of the room to get some fresh clothes for you both.

“Yeah?” He looks over his shoulder, worry in his eyes as he studies your face.

“Thank you.”

“No problem sweetheart,” he chuckles as he shucks on a pair of sweatpants and tosses you clean sleep shorts and one of his t-shirts.

You watch as he restores the apartment’s electricity and turns the heating back on. He comes back in with the bedsheets and makes the bed fresh, making you get up and you whine in protest. But you’re grateful even if a little groggy.

Soon he’s passing you a glass of water and a sports drink. You sit in Simon’s lap as he rests against the headboard, wrapping himself around you as he peppers every inch of your shoulders, neck, and face that he can reach with gentle kisses.

“Meant it about the shower and food,” he reminds you gently as he holds you tight against his chest.

“I know, but this is nice,” you hum as you close your eyes, fingertips tracing patterns on Simon’s forearms as they wrap around you, “Five more minutes?”

“Anything for you sweetheart,” he mumbles against your temple, and you know he means it.

You also know he will drag your ass into the shower exactly five minutes and ten seconds from now.

“I love you Si,” you say as you look up into the scarred face of the man you trust more than anyone else in the world.

“Love you too sweetheart,” he leans down to kiss you slow and sweet before breaking away, “you’ve got four minutes left, savour them,” he whispers against your lips before dipping his tongue gently into your mouth. You make out slowly, without purpose or urgency, until Simon is hauling you up and into your shared bathroom.

Simon Riley is nothing, if not a man of his word.

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ievutebebe · 6 months

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He misspelled gracias. Need him inside me.

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ievutebebe · 6 months

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Hey look what I found! (*cough* @ladamedusoif *cough*)

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ievutebebe · 7 months

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I NEED A SHAGMASTER 9000

the BEEF | #1: Joel Miller

Summary: no-outbreak AU, Joel has a headache and that headache wants his attention. [based on a prompt THOT up in collaboration with @strang3lov3]

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,833

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, angry fools who want to play hide the sausage, angry joel, shovel violence against a truck, monster cock, age gap (joel is in his 50's, reader is younger), p in the v (unwrapped), rough dresser sex,

Author's Notes: welcome to the BEEF. Each P-boy has a thorn in their side that has to be dealt with. Thank you to @covetyou for inspiring the idea, and thank you @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, @rebel-held & @bitchesuntitled for their brains and eyes.

and thank you to every friendo in the Bistro - it's all for you, babies.

Joel Miller was your street’s cranky asshole. No one dared throw a party or hold a garage sale without letting him know first. No one dared let their grass get over a certain length and the whole neighbourhood breathed a sigh of relief when he would go out of a town and not see the kids scribble with chalk on the sidewalks in the summer. He never called the cops; no, instead he showed up and berated whoever was hosting an event or engaging in an activity he found offensive. And he was intimidating. He wasn’t the tallest, but he was built like a brick shithouse. You’d lived on the block for almost nine years, and in that time, Joel had gone from being a broad, sturdy single father to a single, empty nester who lived off HungryMan frozen meals. He was a big man with linebacker shoulders and a meaty chest stacked on top of a boulderous belly. His plaid button up shirts always looked like they were holding on for dear life to avoid his temper.

And you were utterly in love with him.

Before the most recent snowfall, you’d been in your room on your bed with the window open a crack to let in some fresh air. Right below your window was Joel’s front porch, and as soon as you heard his door fly open, you grabbed your vibrator and listened.

“Get off my lawn!”, you heard him bellow at who ever had dared to approach his house.

You smiled to yourself and turned on your purple silicon friend and shoved it in your underwear.

As Joel berated the hapless victim of his temper, you nudged yourself closer to the edge. As you did, you cared less about the volume of your cries and let your noises out at top volume. By the time you came, Joel was standing on his porch with his mouth agape, staring at your bedroom window and the offending party walked away with a look of disgust.

*****

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You watched as your snow shovel slipped out of your hands and hit your Joel’s truck. The one with the vanity plate ‘SM 9000’ that you had no clue what it meant. You could only sit back and watch as it fell and gouged in the paint job on Joel’s 1989 Dodge Ram pickup, your panties grew damp as you heard his front door open and slam against his house.

You turned around, raising your hands, trying to look like you were de-escalating the situation. “Joel, I-“

“The fuck’re you think you’re doin’?!”, he bellowed, stomping towards you.

As he yelled and flew into a tantrum over your shovel’s sins, you couldn’t help the stupid, lovesick half grin blooming on your face.

“… and you ain’t got no respect for no one’s property and…”, he stopped, took a breath, and looked you over, face twisting in a confused rage as he tried to figure out why you were looking at him as if he were a can of tuna and you were a cat watching him being pulled open ever so gently.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”, he yelled, stepping forward, trying to scare you to no avail. He huffed and stomped his foot, trying to snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

You sighed and tilted your head, loving the attention he was finally bestowing on you, not caring that your reaction was essentially dumping gasoline on a house fire.

“Fuckin’ disrespectful shit…”, he snarled as he grabbed your arm and dragged you towards his house.

“Joel? What’re you doing? Where we going?”, you asked with a big dumb grin on your face then wincing at the harsh grip he had on your elbow. Your boots slipped and skidded on the icy walkway and you tripped heading up the stairs.

“Fuckin’ clumsy dumbass…”, he grumbled, shoving you through his front door and slamming it behind you both.

You looked around his entry way, noting the ugly wallpaper and the stale cigarette smell lingering. You crinkled your nose, and he turned around, his frown deepening into a scowl.

“Boots off!”, he barked, harshly motioning to your feet.

You didn’t miss a beat and toed them off quickly, kicking them into the wall. His jaw clenched as he watched the dirty snow clumps slide slowly down, leaving wet patches on his yellow-turned-brown floral wallpaper.

His eyes snapped up to yours, expecting an apologetic look. Instead, he was met with…

“Why the fuck you lookin’ at me like a love sick puppy?”

Joel was enraged. You didn’t run away or beg for forgiveness. No. You stood in his entry way, kicking your boots and making a mess, looking like he was David Cassidy or Patrick Swayze. You smiled back softly and that was the last straw for him.

“WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”

You could have cum right there. Joel Miller was yelling right in your face. You’d gotten off by listening to him lose his shit at anyone trying to fundraiser or collect donations who had dared knock on his door but having a front row seat to a live performance was better than you could have ever imagined.

Joel watched your lips part and your brows twitch as they furrowed and your head tilt back slightly. He heard your breath hitch between his furious growling breaths, and his eyes slid down your parka-clad frame and he swore he saw your thighs clench.

His eyes went wide as he realized the effect he was having on you.

“You fuckin’ dirty little shit…”

The whimper he received in response made his cock twitch in his WalMart Levi’s. He sucked in a harsh breath and swallowed hard. He hadn’t had a woman look at him like that since he went to the strip club with his brother for his bachelor party, and he knew she was looking for a hefty tip. But you – the only thing he could think of is that you were trying to find a way to get out of paying for the damage your shovel caused. There was no waythat you were actually interested in him in that way. No. No woman had wanted to fuck him since before his daughter, Sarah, had been in junior high. He was a fat old asshole and you… you weren’t.

“Joel…”

Your soft voice pulled him back and the frown he carried all but left his face, being replaced with eyebrows to his hairline and his mouth open in confusion and shock.

“Joel, I… I’m sorry about your truck.”

You grabbed the zipper to your parka and pulled down, opening it to reveal your great aunt’s knitted sweater with a loon on it. Joel’s widened eyes swept over you and his brows furrowed.

“The hell you up to?”, he croaked, trying to sound intimidating.

“It’s warm in here”, you respond, tossing your parka on to, but missing completely, the stair banister.

His mind was racing. You actually seemed to be coming on to him as you stepped closer in your mismatched socks. You looked up at him through your lashes while your hands slowly slid up your legging-clad thighs and up to the hem of your sweater. He watched as you pulled it over your head slowly, getting it stuck for a moment, revealing a worn out white t-shirt with a faded image of a marshmallow peep and the slogan ‘Holla At My Peeps!’. He took another step back and you tossed your sweater at him, and he stumbled back, falling onto his recliner.

“Jesus, woman!”, he hollered, ripping your sweater off his head just in time to see you standing above him.

“You know how hot you are?”, you asked, leaning forward over him.

He froze. He must be dead. Or asleep. Or maybe he slipped when he stormed out the door to yell at you and hit his head. Or maybe he was drunk. Maybe he took a NyQuil tablet instead of the Omega 3-6-9 fish oil pills.

“The hell is wrong with you?”, he sputtered out, looking at you wide-eyed.

You didn’t answer. You only leaned forward, nudging your nose against his and letting out a breathy giggle. He tried to speak again, but his words got lost in the high pitch grunt he let out when your knee came up and nestled in between his thighs, pushing against the considerable bulge that had developed.

His hand involuntarily gripped your wrist that was supported on his arm rest, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“I know exactly what you need, Joel Miller.”, you cooed, tongue jutting out and licking your teeth, trying to sound seductive. “You need a good fuck.”

His mouth hung open in shock. You grinned wildly and kissed the tip of his nose before nipping at his bottom lip and tugging it between your teeth.

Joel let out a groan and closed his eyes, the hand on your wrist moving to your t-shirt’s hem and slipped underneath it. You nudged your knee against his crotch again and kissed him, tasting no-name waffles and burnt coffee.

The kiss seemed to break something in Joel. This wasn’t a dream, or an antihistamine induced hallucination or a concussion - this was real. You, his hot, young, stupid neighbour was crawling onto his lap and shoving your tongue down his throat.

He grunted lowly and pushed you back, looking up at you with dark eyes. You tried moving forward again, but his hand held you back.

A whine emanated from your throat, and he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you-“

You scoffed and he shushed you.

“Oh, hush and lemme finish, you loony shit!”, he huffed. “I was sayin’ that I'm not gonna fuck you in this chair; it barely holds my weight and if you’re gonna be bouncin’ on me, this fuckin’ thing’ll screw the pooch.”

You shrugged your shoulders, irritated. “Okay, fine. Then where?”

“My bed, you nimrod!”, he snapped with a scowl, then grinned. “Got a nice mattress with good lumbar support.”

*****

You had followed Joel to his room and were pleasantly… let down. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the beige walls and the picture of a horse above his non-exciting bed were not what you had thought he would have. What surprised you was the essential oil diffuser plugged in on his bedside table, giving the air a fresh lavender smell.

The fact that the rest of his house looked like a rejected concept for an early nineties sitcom and his bedroom looked like a bed and breakfast that had no theme, for some reason, made you want him more. This man and his lack of consistency. You needed him in you now.

Grabbing his arm and turning him around, you pulled him into a desperate kiss; teeth and tongues, fighting for real estate in each other’s mouths.

“Get naked, sugar.”, he grunted as he broke the kiss with a lopsided grin. He unsnapped his shirt, revealing a grey, stained undershirt, its ribbing pulled tight and stretched over his belly while his mouth and surrounding patchy facial hair glistened with your saliva.

While he wasn’t being that polite, he wasn’t being mean. That was a problem. Even with how mundane he’d revealed himself to be, it wasn’t enough. The residual dampness that made your panties stick to your core was a result of him yelling at you out front, and that goodwill your pussy had shown was slowly drying up.

Joel’s hands began to make quick work of his belt and stretch denim jeans, but he noticed you not moving to do the same.

His hand flapped at you in an urging motion, “Make with the no clothes. Can’t fuck you with them on.”

His eyes narrowed as he noted your lack of movement, and he paused. You began to see signs that Joel was getting mad, and your mind flipped through every situation you’d witnessed him lose his shit in. What was it that would set him off quick? You weren’t about to throw a block party in his room, nor were you a religious group knocking at his door early on a Saturday. Then it clicked.

A devious grin broke out slowly on your face as you sat on his Temperpedic mattress and crossed your arms.

“Make me.”

“You indignant little shit…”, he growled, clenching his fist.

A flutter in your lower belly. More.

“Come on. Make me.”

“You fuckin’ tease… Fuck you!” His eyes were filling with fire.

An almost painful need bloomed in your core. More!

“Fuck me yourself, coward.”

He sputtered and guffawed, eyes wide in rage.

“You fuckin’ shit! Bangin’ up my truck and actin’ like a needy Jezabel just to fuckin’ tease me like this!”

You could have cum right there, between the iron grip on your wrist and his loud belittling.

You couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted, and he snarled. He grabbed your hand and yanked you up off the bed. You truly thought his back was bad enough that the effort of getting you up alone would be too much, but he shoved you against his dresser, then slamming his weight into your back. You whined, feeling your pussy clenching on nothing.

“You’re such a shit!”, he grunted, grabbing your elasticized waistband, and yanking your leggings and panties down on one side while your hand went to the other; the two of you awkwardly working towards removing your barrier.

When they were low enough on your legs to step out of, you clumsily did so, then tried to turn around to help Joel. He wasn’t fast enough, swearing under his breath as your hands lifted his belly to access his strained button fly. His mouth was on your neck, sucking and biting like a dog on a window while a steak was being grilled just on the other side.

You pushed his jeans down around his hips and they pooled around his ankles. He kicked them off and bit down on the crux of your neck and shoulder as your hand cupped and felt up his hard cock.

Jesus. Oh fuck.

Joel was hung. Like unreasonably so. You’d had your fair share of men slamming their pork steeples into your wet cunt, but none of them could even hold a candle to the monstrosity that sat heavy and covered in satin in your hand. You planted your hand on his chest and pushed him back, needing to get a peek at what Joel was packing. You immediately looked down, seeing the Wile E. Coyote faux-satin boxers protruding out in an impressive, and frankly intimidating, bulge.

“Oh shit...”, you breathed out, contemplating on whether you truly needed to do any serious sitting for the next week, or if you could maybe just get away with laying down at work.

His hand snapped to your jaw, forcing you to look him in the eye, and he gave you a dark smile, “Showed up to a gun fight with a knife, sugar?”

You didn’t have time to respond because Joel shoved his hand between your legs and harshly began rubbing your clit.

Your eyes fluttered and rolled back. Joel watched, an approving sneer on his face.

“’S fucked up … you like this?”

“uh…. Uh-huh…”

“You’re a lunatic…”

You smiled lazily. “You’re fingering a lunatic… w-what’s that say about you?”

He paused then huffed out, “That I’m fingering a lunatic, you moron.”

You let out a throaty laugh that bleeds into a moan as Joel shoves two thick fingers into your hole, slowly dragging them out before plunging them back in.

“You’re a sick little shit… you seducin’ and teasin’ an old man, an’gettin’ me all wound up… Neighbourhood headache… that’s you. Fuckin’ shit up and walkin’ away with a smile on her dumb face.”

“’M close… don’t…. don’t stop…”

His fingers kept the slow languid pace going as he leaned in and harshly whispered, “Unlike you, sugar, I don’t like to leave people disappointed.”

His eyes never left you, watching your every move. Every involuntary twitch and shudder, every flutter of your eyelids and breath leave your parted lips. He could feel it around his fingers and see it on your face that you were feeling everything intensely and now that he had you like this, he wasn’t going to let you go without making sure you weren’t going to pull this shit again.

Joel was many things, but a man who could let things go was not one of them. He was tired of hearing you cream and cry on whatever silicon thing you were shoving into yourself through your bedroom window as he lost his shit on someone; tired of seeing you make eyes at him while you sat in your front yard as he grumbled at a neighbour for the state of their lawn. He was still furious at you for once letting your hand - your soft, sweet, tender hand - linger on his when handing him his mail that was accidentally delivered to your home, forcing him to sit in his shitty recliner and try to finish with his calloused, rough, and hard hand. He never came.

You were going to pay for that. He’d promised himself that for almost five years and now here you were, on your way to being a muppet with how his hand played in your pussy. Joel’s time had come.

You came, moaning, on his hand as he watched, his fingers still moving in and out of you, and his thumb took up the task of tending to your twitching clit. Your face twisted and you cried out, trying to push his hand away.

Your tongue felt thick in your mouth and a moan seeped out. As you rode the wave, he yanked his hand out and grabbed your arm, throwing you onto the bed.

“Goddammit, you’re such a pretty shit.”, he grumbled, reaching for your ankle, and tugging your ass to the edge of the bed. You tried sitting up on your elbows, but he shoved you back down with his body weight.

His weight. Good god, he felt heavier and better than you ever thought he could as he pressed you down into the mattress.

But he got up off you, trying to wrangle your ankles and pull your exposed pussy to just the right spot to save his back from being strained. You tried sitting up again, wanting to have some sort of control over the situation, but Joel growled and grabbed your hips, and, in an impressive feat, flipped you onto your front all while grumbling about what a pain in the ass you were.

“Can’t even fuckin’ be considerate enough to stay put…”

You heard him spit then grunt, figuring he was priming that fucking meat wagon between his legs, and you let out an impatient huff.

“Knock that shit off!”, he snapped, flicking you on your ass cheek. “You just came, nimrod. You can fuckin’ wait!”

“Yeah… but I wanna cum again!”, you whined out with a smile, trying to not laugh at how irritated he was with you.

“I bet you do… but you’re on my time, and I am a patient man, sugar.”, he crooned lowly, snaking his hand up your back and to your hip. You squirmed a bit, but his hold kept you planted in place, and his other hand held his cock as he nudged it against your opening.

The smile on your face dropped as his huge member pushed in; your mouth opened, and out came a gasp followed by a choked moan.

“That’s it… Jesus Murphy… not even fuckin’ your throat and I got you to shut your mouth…”

Yes, you knew Joel was huge. But it was just an abstract concept up until that moment. Now that he was shoving his massive dick into you, you felt like the universe’s mysteries were now clearly laid out. You knew what religion was right, who shot JFK, how they made the moon landing look real…

Nothing in life would ever surprise you again because you were being split open by this grumpy, fat man. You were being ruined by Joel Miller.

He grunted as he pulled back and then slammed into you.

“Tight little snatch, sugar… takin’ me like a champ.”

You couldn’t respond. Your brain had melted and left your skull empty, and you were unable to do anything but breathe loudly and moan, “S’too big… too big…”

Joel snickered and grunted, snapping his hips and shoving himself deep. You wriggled and squirmed, simultaneously needing him stop and to fuck you harder. Your head began to feel faint, and your core squeezed him, forcing a groan out of him.

He began to snap his hips faster, panting and grunting like the fat kid in gym class being forced to run a mile. You whined and squirmed, trying to get your knees under your body to be able to push back against him, to get him deeper, but he grabbed your calf and bit your leg right above your sock with a growl then groaned, “Stay… stay put… don’t move… jus’lemme… lemme finish…”

You let out a yelp than melted into a moan, throwing yourself into another orgasm. Joel’s thrusts became hurried and more erratic. The high-pitched whine that ripped out of Joel sounded like a dog begging for table scraps as he shot his load into you.

He collapsed onto your back, both of you panting. After what felt like hours but in reality, was only about 30 seconds, Joel had gone quiet. You nudged him, hoping to god he didn’t die from a pussy-induced heart attack. He grunted and struggled to push himself up off you, then flopped on the bed next to you. You rolled over onto your back and looked at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his brows furrowed; his wispy salt and pepper hair stuck to his forehead and his eyes were closed. He was still breathing heavily through his mouth. You smiled, feeling a fulfillment you hadn’t since you’d convinced your parents that it was your sister who broke the CD-ROM drive in the family computer even though it was really you. Cuddling into his, your fingers drew heart shapes in his sweat coated chest hair.

Now that he’d fucked you, you wanted to clear the air as it were, and make sure he wasn’t going to make you pay for any damage to his truck. “So…”

Joel grunted in response, one eye opening and looking at you.

“I was just wondering… what’s your licence plate mean?”

He sighed and closed his eye again. He said the meaning quietly and at first you weren’t sure you heard him right.

“What?”

His cheeks flushed a little harder and he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff.

“ShagMaster 9000.”

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @jennaispunk @tightjeansjavi @rubyfruitjungle @lilmizmoz @strang3lov3 @pedroshotwifey @harryleatherfit @bitchesuntitled

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ievutebebe · 7 months

Text

SO SWEET 🥹😭

Sick

Joel Miller x Reader Warnings: Reader is sick, pill taking, food mention (brief), trouble sleeping. A/N: I just wrote this because I'm currently sick AF and would like Joel Miller to look after me pls n thank. It's mostly just fluff tbh. No use of Y/N, no race or gender coding, reader is pretty much a blank slate. 700~ Words | [AO3]

You groan as you stir awake for the hundredth time tonight, pain arcing behind your eyelids as you struggle to rouse yourself. You’re freezing cold despite the warm body pressed to your back. You desperately pull the covers around you as you try and fight the chill that wracks through your body.

“Hey?” Joel whispers in your ear as you feel him pull you to him, his thin scruff scraping along the plane of your shoulder, “You ok darlin’?”

You curse yourself inwardly at the soft voice in your ear. The thickness in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through you as you wrap your arms around his strong forearm as it holds you firm against him.

“No,” you whimper feebly as you hear the cloying distortion to your voice, even with just one syllable it’s obvious you’re sick. You’d been feeling under the weather all week, but it seems it’s finally caught up to you. On a Saturday no less.

“Shh,” Joel hushes you softly as he wriggles his other arm free, you feel his strong palm press against your forehead from behind as he shifts up on the pillows behind you, “Shit, you’re burning up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you grumble as you let out a hacking cough as your chest burns.

“Stay here,” he says softly as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

You whine as he slides out of bed before tucking the covers around you tightly. You grunt helplessly as he shuts the door behind him, missing his body heat already as you burrow down into the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut and your brow furrows at the pain in your skull, amplified only by the way your rattling cough seems to jostle your head.

It could have been minutes, or hours, but when Joel comes back you smile feebly up at him from the cocoon you have crafted around you. He’s a vision of tan skin and grey boxer briefs as he carries in a tray with water, cold medicine, and a few bags of your favourite snacks.

“Poor baby,” Joel coos softly as he sets down the tray on the nightstand, “Can you sit up for me?”

“Sure,” you say meekly as you shuffle yourself up into a seating position, “Thank you.”

“Don’t need to thank me,” he says as he smiles fondly at you, “But you do need to take your medicine,” he frowns playfully at you as he wags a finger in your direction. Your heart swells as you look up into his deep brown eyes as he looks you over. Worry forms in the crow’s feet around his eyes and the semi-permanent crease in his brow. Your stomach flutters and you can’t help but smile.

“Ah shit,” you groan as you realise what day it is, “The party at Maria and Tommy’s.”

“Don’t fret, I’ve already called Tommy,” Joel says as he hands you a couple of cold and flu tablets and a glass of water, “Poor bastard wasn’t even awake yet, I forgot to check the time before I called.”

Once you’ve got a secure hold on the medication and water Joel sits on the edge of the bed before dropping a broad hand to your knee. He rubs soothingly up your thigh as he watches you intently. You sigh peacefully at the ministrations of his hand as you gulp down the water and tablets.

“What time is it?” You ask as your head spins, you relax immediately as you feel Joel slide into bed beside you, sitting up as he pulls you back against his chest. You lay there, head lolled back on his shoulder as you close your eyes.

“Early,” he hums as he gently lays down, pulling you with him, “But don’t worry about that now, get some rest, I’m right here.”

“Ok,” you sigh as another cough rocks your body, prompting Joel to hold you tight against his chest.

“Love you darlin’, get some sleep.”

“Love you too,” you mutter as the lure of unconsciousness becomes too hard to ignore.

You’re not sure if it’s the cold medicine, or the way that Joel nuzzles into the crook of your neck, but you finally feel a little relief as you let out a shuddering sigh before falling into a deep sleep.

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ievutebebe · 7 months

Text

IM SO SO SO HORN¥¥¥ OH MY GOD 🫠🤯

Enjoy the Silence

You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)

That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass

Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.

A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵

It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it.

You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times. It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.

God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished.

You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though.

Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door.

“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”

“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”

Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.

Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”

“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”

Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”

“Something like that,” you said.

“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh.

“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began.

Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–”

“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”

Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both.

Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that.

Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right?

Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one.

You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul.

You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.

Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing.

You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.

You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it.

You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.

Joel notices.

You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets.

You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.

He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act.

Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy.

“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.

“Joel!”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”

“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down.

He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”

The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.

“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact.

“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”

“Yes.”

“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort.

You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”

You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.

“Sure you do.”

You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug.

“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”

Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?

“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”

Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip.

“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”

Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little.

When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.

Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow.

This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing.

Fuck. The punishment.

Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses

Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.

He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him.

“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out.

“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips.

He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”

Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you.

You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp.

Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”

“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.

“Only twice?”

“Tonight.”

“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?”

You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don’t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”

“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.”

“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”

Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind. He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”

“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.

He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“So good,” you choke out.

You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.

“Better,” your answer is honest.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.”

He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.

You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.

His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”

“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”

“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.”

“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.

“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”

You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you.

You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you.

You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself.

He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”

“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”

Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that. “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”

If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write

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