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#but i guess that’s just life in your twenties
gutsby · 15 hours
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Cowboy Killers
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Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader
Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.
Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.
Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.
Word count: 4.1k
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Forgive and forget.
Forgive and forget.
Forgive and—
“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.
Across the line, your friend laughed.
“Yeah? You see him?”
Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.
The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.
She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.
Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.
And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.
Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.
“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.
Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:
“Where ya headed, hon?”
You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’
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The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.
A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.
Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.
“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.
She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.
“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.
“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.
“Well, duh.”
“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”
“I love you, psycho.”
“Love you more.”
You ended the call.
And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.
You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight
You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.
The couple turned.
As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.
“You cheatin’ FUCK!”
He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.
The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.
“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.
You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:
“Working late, are we?!”
And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.
“Got a little caught up on the way home?”
Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.
“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.
Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand
Shaking his head.
“Hell no, I ain’t never—”
“LIAR!”
Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.
You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.
“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.
You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.
They thought wrong.
“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.
You almost expected the man to turn and leave.
You thought wrong.
“You’re a cunt.”
And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.
The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.
He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.
“How’s it feel?” he sneered.
You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.
On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?
You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.
“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”
“Wh—”
“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”
“What—”
“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”
“What did you just call me?!”
“A BITCH!”
“No, the NAME!”
“TOMMY MILLER!”
“I’M JOEL!”
Oh.
Oh.
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You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.
Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.
“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.
Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.
“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”
Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.
Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.
Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.
“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”
He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:
‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’
He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.
When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.
“HEY!”
Oh, no. No. Not tonight.
You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.
“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.
It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.
Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:
“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”
You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.
“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”
Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.
“Oh yeah?”
Joel flipped you around to face him.
“Yeah,” he snapped.
Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.
What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.
Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.
“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”
“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.
You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.
“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”
“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.
You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.
And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.
“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”
Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.
He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.
“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”
Joel couldn’t say that he had.
Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.
This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.
“Alright, princess. Up.”
You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.
You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.
“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.
Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:
“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”
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Joel wished he’d said no.
Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.
“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.
“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.
And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.
“Gross,” you muttered.
“What?”
“Got a light?”
“Blow me.”
Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.
“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.
“Now keep your—HEY!”
Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.
He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:
“What the fuck was that?!”
“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”
Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.
“I’m aware.”
“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”
You told him.
Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.
And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.
Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.
He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.
He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:
‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’
He saw you cringe.
“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”
The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.
Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.
“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”
“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”
You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.
“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.
He couldn’t help it.
Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.
Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.
“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.
Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.
“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:
“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”
Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.
“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”
Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.
The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.
You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.
Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.
On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:
“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”
Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.
“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”
At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.
“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”
You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.
Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.
Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.
Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.
“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.
Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.
You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.
Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.
As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.
Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.
He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.
He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.
He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.
No fucking way.
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You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.
Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.
“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.
“The one and only.”
Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.
It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.
He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.
His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.
“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.
Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.
Now you were waving to him from your front door.
Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.
And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.
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2:21 AM
You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.
Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:
1:09 AM – Maria
DUDE
1:09 AM
TOMMY JUST CAME HOME
1:09 AM
THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR
1:13 AM
IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!
1:13 AM
ABORT ABORT ABORT
1:42 AM
DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME
1:54 AM – Dave York
Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u
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d2myg · 1 year
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lately i’ve been mourning friendships that fizzled out or are in the process of fizzling out, but then i remember that relationships of any kind always go both ways. i stopped trying but so did they.
#the little friend group seems to be just fine without me.#but i guess that’s just life in your twenties#what can you do#but i wonder what happened#the group chat is dead so i wonder if they all just made a new one without me#because they all still hang out and pretty frequently#so like.. what did i do?#i’m the kind of person that will not show up somewhere unless i’m invited and they know it#but i guess i’m not wanted haha#that’s fine though#i miss them but we haven’t seen each other since before christmas#so it feels like it’s too late to try and reach out now#i met up with one friend from this group like 2 months ago and it was fun#but there’s no incentive to hang out now#and like. i’m just tired and burnt out so it’s not like i really want to#but i just miss it#and when they all leave to go back home in a couple of months#maybe i’ll just block all of them and pretend we never met#since i see that i’m so replaceable#i think it’s all a consequence of moving to a different city#even if i live like 20 mins away by train#it seems like such a commute to go there#and it’s not like they want to come here either for a change#i just need to accept the fact they friendships come and go and i can’t do anything about it#it’s been like that all of my life#but why am i getting so sad and sentimental#when i’m going to hang out with so many friends tomorrow for easter. i need to remember that just because some friendships fizzled out#doesn’t mean that the others i still have aren’t just as important and precious#if someone is still reading this wow. you must think i’m so pathetic lmao. but thank you for caring#eli.txt
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boyobjectifier · 8 months
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life before 25: ugh nothing matters 😔😭
life after 25: oh! nothing matters! ☺️🥰
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loumauve · 10 days
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I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.
(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)
#been feeling anxious af ever since bc it's the first time I've been this firm in a reply and idk how they'll take it#there's underlying issues in inter-departmental communication that need fixing that cause these issues to happen again and again#but my boss is on parental leave and his substitute is sick not that she cares or is up for doing her job where communication is concerned#so there's no real sense in addressing that rn esp by me who's only been there since June. but it does frustrate me a lot#anyway. I'm sure I'll get over this too. but yeah.. ppl not thinking things through for the two mins it takes to create an account#or the twenty seconds it takes to check if one already exists before creating a new one#or the minute it takes to check if folks still have an active contract past their time working in your department before deleting an accoun#just jfc. put in a smidge of effort and five mins total and save the rest of us from spending half a day to fix your mistake#oh well. if I get a pissy response I'll just blame it on being new as an intern and being too motivated and idealistic I guess#god forbid I expect people to do their jobs thoroughly or with at least a singular thought..#anyway. I feel like I'm allowed to be grumpy abt this since we are the folks who end up having to fix this shit#and by we I mean pretty much mostly me at this point bc one colleague is sick atm. my boss barely has time for this and is on leave#and my other colleague only works half time so I'm the one who's been handling most of these over the past month or so#which.. is still insane considering how I'm a goddamn intern who shouldn't even have admin rights tbh#but without them I couldn't do anything at all lol so here I am. nice that they trust and believe in me I suppose#that's why I try to do my best. (who am I kidding that's always the case anyway)#but yeah. definitely a 50% staff support job and only 50% of the other important things that need doing rn it's more like 90/10#and it's funny how I still dread my two hours of hotline. but every time the line is too busy I still jump in#we are also only 6 people atm out of 10 and three of us are still in training. and one of the trained folks had to come back in mid time of#next week we'll likely be 4#depending on if our substitute boss lady is back.. not that I'd look forward to it. she's a mess and she's been horrible to deal with latel#sure. she's stressed. but she's either snapping at me when I ask abt shit I can't know yet or she's ignoring me. great basis for team work.#so honestly I'd rather she not return on Monday. esp not if she's gonna spread her germs everywhere#but now sleep. sorry for the rant. it's certainly been quite the month since I returned from my own wisdom tooth rated sick leave..#gotta be up again in 6.5 hrs so I can be at work at 6 to let the electrician in. I'm gonna sleep so hard over the weekend I stg#a day in the life of..
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seventeengoingunder · 5 months
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whatever!!!!
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lale-txt · 2 years
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Ok but doesn't middle-aged start at like 25??
(⚆ᗝ⚆) NO
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reijureiju · 3 months
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Moving on from LOA
I have been trying for three years now. And nothing ever worked. I did it all. I just think this is not something I can achieve and I am already reaching my mid-twenties. Everyone here are 12-18 year olds who get success and I am wayy old, so I think it is healthy for me to just do things the normal way. But thanks to the LOA community I learnt alot of other things in life.
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ancientdreamkdj · 3 months
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I'm trying to watch dead boy detectives but I get so much second hand embarrasment from the characters actions, it makes me manifest physical symptoms of anxiety
#The plot of the show makes me really interested tho#That's why I have been battling the second hand embarrasment symptoms#I'm actually putting in effort to push through the discomfort so I can know how the plot develops#But damn if it isn't a bad idea to put teenagers (even if if they're many decades old and dead for a long while) in life and death situatio#Sure sweetie ofc you know what you're doing *draws one more time in the bad choice streak*#You're so mature wow no worries *dials up a therapist* so good in navigating your feelings. Ofc I trust you with your decisions#They be like “I am sure of this” and I'm like an intolerant parent rolling my eyes... sweetie itll pass#Just wait until the character development hits you in the next 20 minutes#Or in the next episode#It's just a phase#Oh look! I am sure the thing you're hiding from others will bear no consequences!#*episode ends* oh. It was the spinjing point of a conflict. Who would have guessed that!#Teenagers being teenagers#By the way... not a single one of them looks like a teenager#Jenny scoffed at Crystal saying she is twenty two and I felt personally offended... I thought she was in her thirties!#Until that point I was so sure crystal was in her thirties as her age hadn't been addressed in the show before!#Just because someone dresses alt and does weird things like talking to the voices only they hear they are a teenager?#That's very prejudiced#What on earth is the reference for apparent age to americans or britishs...#Thoughts#By me#Review#dead boy detectives
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oneguardian15 · 5 months
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anyone else run into this yet? this is the only show i’ve seen this for so far (voltron legendary defender) but i’m honestly just getting reeeaaalll tired of netflix’s shit (see below the little padlock in the corner of the voltron icon i have circled at the top of the image)
and yes, the entire series is locked.
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milo-is-rambling · 1 year
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I forget how much I hate the taste of vodka but the whipped cream vodka is so much better my god
#make a drink sweet enough that you can’t taste it when it’s in ur mouth and then all u get is the whipped cream vodka in the burn#makes drinks more tolerable#also this is the fastest I think I’ve ever chugged an alcoholic drink#we are gonna get fucked up tonight bc we have daddy issues and fought with our mom this morning slayyy#smoked a cigarette at the lake now getting fucked up in my room while home alone#life is so good and it’s all bullshit forever#literally we could all die and it doesn’t matter and life is weird and crazy and I am happy it sucks and I am so fucking thrilled to be aliv#at all#life is good regardless of death but I wish death would just like wait patiently for my family#dad I miss u I hope you had a good four twenty where ever you ended up. im sorry moms acting like this. I hope my brothers okay at school.#I hope he’s having a good time and isn’t completely overwhelmed with everything. I was right and apparently he’s gonna come home after grad#uation and im excited to have him home again but my mothers all upset. I know it sucks that you’re dead but it’s nice knowing in a weird way#that you’re the reason me and hunter got close again. so thanks I guess for that. and smoking made me and mom grow closer. idk. you’ve done#a lot for us and most of it had to do with weed. today hurt worse than my birthday. or the six month anniversary. today sucked. and no one#else seemed to be torn apart by it and it made me feel like I was going crazy and no one could even tell#you would’ve noticed if I was acting different. I love you. wherever you are I still love you. and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was such a bitch.#and I wish I took better care of you. but you were my father I wasn’t supposed to take care of you. you should’ve been there for me. we shou#have been there for mom and hunter and your parents and I’ve been thinking a lot about grammie actually. I don’t know how I feel. thinking#about her makes me cry now. I don’t have the heart to make her cry talking about my childhood but I miss her. and I miss being young. I miss#you coming to my Father’s Day dance recitals and coming back from bike week in Laconia and bringing me flowers always wearing your grey#Harley Davidson jacket and you’d have flowers in your arms and you’d be bored but so proud and you’d hug me and you’d smell like weed and#your beard was always scratchy when you’d hug me and I just miss you a lot. I miss you and I fucking hate you for it fuck.#note to self. ​don’t be pmsing and then get drinking and smoking and thinking of your dead father. you will cry
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iressails · 1 year
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Bayliss is looking extremely bad post shooting of homeless man. Eat his gun bad. He's unmoored without Frank, without his stabilitising influence, without his framing of his world in primary colours. All of Bayliss's stuff about being true to all the parts of himself, trying to reconcile his profession with his sexuality and spirituality and being left with just the former because when it came down to it he fired his gun and killed a man.
He's deleted his website, deleted parts of himself for his job, and I don't know if he has much left. Not with Frank being gone. (Where even if Frank? Did he ditch Bayliss after he left the department? He must have.)
I noticed he had a bit about surviving child abuse on his website, it seems it was ignored/shut down too so he's pushed that back down. Again? Same thing his father did, denied and voiceless again. JFC this is so depressing.
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minotaurfemme · 2 years
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they should invent eyes that can actually focus at the end of the day
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classyrbf · 2 months
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HE'S SUCH A (HOT) LOSER! — CHOSO KAMO
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SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons about loser!choso bc I can’t get him out of my head after righting that drabble about him
INFO...loser!choso x fem!reader, socially awkward, virgin!choso, jerking off, virginity loss, sexual acts, creampie,
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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loser!choso who literally has no friends, is the epitome of socially awkward and always ends making the conversation weird when he opens his mouth
loser!choso who has never seen a woman naked in real life, he just goes on porn sites and jerks his dick until it feels like it’s about to fall off, cum painted on his toned stomach
loser!choso who has sex toys in his closet, fleshlights, pocket pussies, whatever you call them—he has at least two, one of them even vibrates
loser!choso who is (you guessed it) a total virgin, he’s never even gotten close enough to lose it, yet alone have his first kiss
loser!choso who is forced by yuji to go on a dating app and try to find a girlfriend, and he ends up matching with you
loser!choso who stays in his room, playing video games, or goes to the gym, otherwise the poor boy has no social life (like I said, he has no friends)
loser!choso who finally goes on his first date with you and he’s sweating, stumbling over his words because you’re smiling at him, grabbing his hand and making jokes all while looking like some sort of goddess. He was starting to wonder if he’s dreaming
loser!choso who is absolutely stunned when you express how cute you think he is, how nice his hair looks, and he doesn’t know how to react so he just stands there and smiles at you like a complete idiot
loser!choso who drives home after the date and he genuinely can’t wait to get home to jerk off to the thought of you, so he pulls into an empty parking and pulls his pants down right there, tip already leaking precum when he remembers the way your tits were popping out of you dress
loser!choso who thinks the date went horribly wrong until you’re texting him the next day, already planning the next time you meet up, weirdly inviting him over to your place
loser!choso who is obsessed with titties (clearly) no matter what size. He imagines himself getting a hold of pair and just grabbing them, sucking them, it turns him on so bad
loser!choso who thinks nothing of going over your house until he gets his one wish, getting a hold of your tits in his hands, and he’s star struck, just groping, squeezing and without thinking he’s sucking on them
loser!choso who ends up losing his virginity a few minutes later with you bouncing up and down on his cock, pussy gushing around him. He’s in literal heaven and can barely think, brain turned to mush
loser!choso who realizes real sex is better than porn fairly quickly, and lets just say he becomes more obsessed with you than ever cause it’s so much more intimate when you’re holding him, praising him, calling him a good boy
loser!choso who cums in your pussy so many times that night, and the aftermath leaves him stuck in the same spot on your bed while you cuddle up to him and tell him how much you like him even if you’ve only known him for two days
loser!choso who now has his first ever girlfriend, his first everything with you and he can’t wait to brag to yuji about it because you’re absolutely gorgeous
loser!choso who shows you off on his social media despite the twenty followers that he has, he just want to show off his girlfriend to whoever he can
loser!choso who gets weird stares in public from other men when he’s out with you because he knows you’re way out of his league, but just to make them jealous he grabs you and kisses you in front of them
loser!choso who doesn’t develop a sense of fashion until he meets you, going to countless stores as you pick out outfits that’ll look good on him, and he won’t lie, you’ve done a very good job because he’s gained much more confidence in himself
loser!choso who goes on and on about his special interests and you sit there smiling at him, listening intently. He’s lowkey a nerd but you love it
loser!choso who hangs with no one but you, missing you constantly and randomly showing up at your house when he feels like you’ve spent too much time apart
loser!choso who wants to learn how to pleasure you more so he looks up videos on how to eat pussy and watches all the porn he can to study their movements, but when he tells you, you just laugh and say how silly he is, showing him a hands on tutorial, instructing him on what to do and what you like
loser!choso who constantly asks if he made you cum, poor baby doesn’t want you to go around unsatisfied so he doesn’t everything in his power to make you feel good no matter what
loser!choso who is (obviously) the quiet type, so he studies what you like and what you do by watching you and when he grabs your exact fast food order without you saying anything, you’re standing there confused and he’s looking down at you like “what?”
loser!choso who has a glow up because of you, and girls that have rejected him come crawling back into his life not knowing about you, so he just hits them with the “my beautiful girl who I love very much does not like you talking to me bye” and blocks them
loser!choso who is actually very sweet despite his awkwardness, he might look stand offish in person and act weird around others, but when he’s comfortable with you hes a different person
loser!choso who gets you anything you ask for, spending countless amounts of money on you even if you don’t ask for it, he just loves you so much he wants to show his appreciation in every way whether that’s spoiling you or making you cum
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alexiroflife · 3 months
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"megumi is annoyed with gojo for getting distracted with you and being late for everything because of it, so he makes it his life’s mission to ruin gojo’s chances of dating you..."
fluff, crack
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gojo has a severe issue with constantly following you like a puppy dog wherever you go. after that day he had run into you on a whim at the park, your pretty (e/c) eyes locking with his as you both shared passing glances the moment your shoulders brushed, he was stuck to you. gojo stopped dead in his tracks, calling out to you and asking what your name was. you turned over your shoulder, stuttering to a stop upon realizing that handsome guy had been talking to you. you told him your name, that you attended the university down the block, and he was set.
gojo was sure to secure your number before you parted ways that day, approaching you as interested in friendship rather than someone completely enamored by your beauty and desperate to get to know you more. he would text you every day, from then on, pressing further about your hobbies and inserting himself into your daily routine, which you fortunately did not mind. the two of you end up spending a lot of time together, thoroughly enjoying each other’s presence.
megumi, ten years old, witnesses gojo’s clinginess with you fast because it quickly has an affect on how often gojo fulfills his responsibilities in looking after him. megumi remembers the first time gojo forgot about him because he was distracted by you. he had been meant to purchase and drop of megumi’s weekly groceries, but he ran into you at the supermarket and ended up helping you take your groceries home instead. megumi had to wait three hours for gojo to bring him his next week’s supply of food. things like this continued to happen the longer you to knew each other, but megumi knows it isn’t your fault that gojo is attached to you at the hip and flirts with you shamelessly but won’t muster up the courage to tell you he likes you. 
megumi’s last straw is when he is left stranded outside of his elementary school for forty-five minutes because he ran into you “eating at a cafe by yourself and you needed company.” the ten year old watches gojo pull up slowly with you in the passenger’s seat, waving at him apologetically with a kind smile. his blood boils as gojo smiles, shrugging bashfully and saying he lost track of time. megumi decides with a hastiness that he would ruin every chance gojo takes to flirt with you after the twenty one year old suddenly announces that he is driving twenty minutes opposite of his house to drop you off at your dorm. 
gojo first senses something is off when you are over at megumi’s house one day after school, looking for snacks in the cabinets. gojo and megumi are sitting at the kitchen island while megumi does his homework and gojo watches you move around with a soft smile on his lips, chin propped in his palm. you turn over your shoulder and ask the two if they have any chips, to which megumi beats gojo to answering: “gojo ate them all. he’s always eating everything in my house. i try to get him to stop, but i guess he just gets too hungry.” the white haired man slowly turns to face megumi as you carry on about your business, eyes wide and a mortified smile on his face. megumi doesn’t look at him, continuing his english homework. 
gojo knows he’s being targeted the second time around, when he suggests that you sleep over in his room because it is getting late and megumi advises you not to because he allegedly saw a nonexistent redhead leaving his room last night and is ‘worried about your exposure to lice.’ gojo chases the spikey haired kid around his living room later on after you inevitably go home, threatening to take him back to the zenin clan. 
the day megumi outright proposes that you get a boyfriend during a car ride over to your campus, gojo almost loses control of the steering wheel and decides he has to keep you as far away from megumi as possible. megumi gets his wish when gojo begins to pay more attention to the days he’s supposed to pick him up from school and separates his days with you from them accordingly, but megumi doesn’t plan to let this slide so easily. for weeks, he suffered the aftermath of gojo getting distracted by being your shadow, and for weeks gojo would suffer his karma.
when he hears you on the phone with him, megumi barges in the room and loudly asks to talk to you. you, overhearing, welcome the conversation gladly and ask gojo to hand over the phone while he glares animatedly at the boy’s blank face. he has to wait twenty minutes for megumi to finish talking monotonously about his day into the speaker, and by the time gojo gets his phone back, you have to head to a meeting with your classmates. the call ends and gojo ponders over why his kid is praying so intently over his downfall. 
and of course there are the days when you ask to come over to see gojo and megumi, and gojo is physically incapable of refusing quality time with you or telling you no in any regard. he practically begs megumi on his knees to behave five minutes before you arrive, to which the fushiguro blatantly ignores. the blue eyed sorcerer is fuming with rage as he sits across from you and megumi, watching as you help him with his science project after him asking for your assistance, a stunning, bubbly grin on your face. gojo’s initial frustrations shift into envy for your attention, and before you know it he’s pouting with his arms crossed in silence. 
megumi is satisfied with himself, concluding that gojo is officially fed up and has given up completely on pursuing you. he commends himself mutely for his successes after working so hard, though his actual enjoyment of your tranquil company made the experience more tolerable. he runs off to take a shower when you’re grabbing your belongings, preparing to uber back to your dorm. normally gojo pesters you about letting him drive you home when you’re over, so when he only flashes you a smile and holds the door for you as you walk through, you immediately think something is wrong.
the blue eyed man’s lips press together, eyes blank as he shakes and tells you everything is okay. your eyes slim in suspicion as you look over his face, unconvinced by his horrible lying skills. you ask again and he smiles again, telling you he is fine and to go enjoy the rest of your day without him. you furrow your brows in confusion before realizing that you had been busy with little megumi all day and hardly paid attention to your friend. he’s jealous. you giggle, and find it cute the way his half smile melts and he broods, perplexed by your laughter. 
you tease your friend of a few months, telling him that the next time you hang out, you two will spend the day alone. pink rises to gojo’s cheeks. “you still wanna spend time with me?” he asks and you scoff. “yeah, why wouldn’t i?” “i don’t know, i just thought megumi convinced you not to like me…”
you laugh again, the sound ringing like church bells in his ear. you tell him he’s ridiculous for getting worked up over a ten picking on him and puffs his lips and rolls his eyes. you know there is a mutual attraction shared between you and gojo. you’ve liked him since the second he asked for your number, but never said anything because he limited your relationship to what you assumed ws platonic flirting. now, watching him pout over the thought that megumi pushed you away makes you realize that there may be something real to his attachment to you.
a smug smile lifts to gojo’s face and his mood immediately improves. he tells you he’ll pick you up from your math class tomorrow for a ride, just the two of you. you hum in agreement and lean up to your tiptoes, holding the side of his face with your fingers and pressing a kiss to his cheekbone. “it's a date,” you say. you pull away and his expression is dopey, eyes dazed and grin bright. 
megumi runs back into the living room at the wrong time. he goes to grab his bookbag from the sofa and return it to his room when he catches a glimpse of the horror, his face scrunching in disgust as you peck gojo’s cheek at the front door. megumi turns grim, mourning over his failed plan. oh well, he tried. he wishes you luck dealing with that freak, and figures that the next time gojo annoys him, he can just save himself half the trouble and log him out of the shared netflix account.
you are halfway out the door, smile making your cheeks ache and heart bursting, when you hear megumi shouting from inside. “wash your mouth when you get home, (y/n)! you don’t know where he’s been!” you hear the front door slam and dramatic, muffled complaining follow as you walk to your uber stifling a laugh.
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simpjaes · 6 months
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EROTIC EMPATHY (s.jy)
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Have you ever taken anyone’s virginity before? Nope. Are you about to? Yep. or the one where jake has a streak of bad luck in bed and his friends make fun of him for it, you find him advertising himself on a dating app and decide to help him out. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it
WORDCOUNT― 12.7k
PAIRING― jake sim x afab reader 
CONTENT― virgin guy who lives with his parents!jake, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that, facetime-sex, real life sex
SIDE CHARACTERS― jay as reader’s best friend and roommate, heeseung briefly as jake’s friend.
NOTE― if you've read this before it's because im the person who wrote it [ncteez] and im revamping it for jake, pls don't send me messages on either account about stealing a work that's already mine!
smut tags under cut:: 
smut tags―big huge dick jake, phone sex (ish), face time sex,  masturbation, pet name: baby, making out, he eats you out twice, fingering, whining and whimpering, deep throating, premature ejaculation, desperate man wants his dick wet lmao, grinding, tit fondling/licking, clit stimulation, he bites the fuck out of his tongue to try and distract himself from coming too soon again,  no condom aka cream pie, jake gets feelings like immediately when u touch him
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“Check this shit out,” you laugh, presenting your phone to Jay with a chuckle. “yes or no?”
Jay snorts, nearly spitting out the bite of food in his mouth as he reads the bio of the man you’re showing to him.
“Depends, you trying to take his innocence or are you trying to get railed so hard that the entire building can hear?” He narrows his eyes at you, making a point to call you out for keeping him awake last weekend. 
You wave him off with an apologetic look. To be fair, the dude from before knew how to make a girl moan, it’s not your fault that you managed to find a decent lay in this city. Even if he ghosted you, you assume you may have been a bad lay for him, if anything. 
“I wouldn’t mind trying something new, dude seems desperate.” You swipe through his photos, seeing that he appears to be just a normal dude with normal interests. “He’s cute too, so I’m gonna say yes.”
Jay groans this time, slapping a hand to his forehead and glaring at you. 
“You’d better warn me if you end up bringing him home, I’m not about to listen to some guy start crying over a blowjob.”
You nod to him, sending a message to the eighty-two-year-old Jake and feeling delighted at his near-instant response to you. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure you’re out of the apartment if I invite him over,” You wiggle your brows as you stand to your feet and turn toward your room, eyes now glued to the open dating app’s messages. “Maybe you should go out and find a nice girl to rail to get back at me.”
“You’re so fucking weird.” Jay laughs but feels kind of shitty because it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to get back at you for the loud sex. Guess he just doesn’t have the magic dick to make girls moan the same way you do.
Not that he wants to make you moan or anything, he definitely doesn’t. If anything, he wishes you were more like the girls he brings home.
Fucking quiet.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You: i’ve never seen a virgin grandpa on this app before 
Jake: ….i’m 21, it says that in my bio
You: I think you’re lying. 
Jake: do u know how to change it, my bitch friends won't tell me lol
You: why would i help you lie to other women
Jake: i’m not lying!!1
You laugh to yourself as you text the new sex interest in your life, wondering if he’s lying about his presumed virginity. 
You: ok, twenty-one-year-old “jaeyun” who is five miles away from me, you’re actually a virgin? Like for real?
Jake: yea….are u here to make fun of me for it too? all the girls here just turn me down even if i offer to cook for them after
Jake: maybe it's the playlists idk
You: send me the playlist
Jake: [spotify link to a playlist titled “NUT”] 
You try not to snort, but you do. Given, he does have decent taste, but why anyone would have dynamite by bts and never say never by justin bieber on their sex playlist is beyond you. 
You: surely it’s not your playlist…….
You: anyway
You: you’re really just looking to get laid for the first time, like, ever? and you’re offering to cook dinner too?
Jake: yea
You: you’ve never had a blowjob or anything like that? you can’t seriously think I can believe you’ve never been laid, it’s not like you’re ugly or anything
Jake: u don’t think im ugly? :) 
Jake: and yea I’ve had a blowjob before
You: why didn’t you sleep with her then?
Jake: can we stop talking about why im a virgin
You: sure but you know im gonna bring it up again, right?
You’re smiling at your phone, finding him charming and awkward in how he communicates with you via messenger. Of course, you’re curious as to why he’s a virgin, even more, curious as to why he’s on a dating app looking to lose said virginity. 
You: do you want my number? it’s embarrassing to have the app open in public if i wanna talk to you.
Jake, on the other hand, is quite literally kicking his feet and checking your profile every few minutes just to look at you. He didn’t even think too hard about you calling him attractive then not following up on it, because the fact that you just offered your number to him in case you want to talk to him? Butterflies. Given, it’s juvenile for someone of his age to still be experiencing the typical high-school crush feelings, would anyone blame him? It’s just how he is, with or without having had sex. He can’t imagine not feeling giddy inside when he’s talking to someone that he thinks is pretty. 
Jake: yea :) u can text me whenever [redacted phone number] 
You respond to him by texting his number rather than using the app messenger, screenshotting his contact info, and sending it to him with a sly smile. 
You: [screen shot// contact name: grandpa jake] 
Grandpa Jake: :| 
Grandpa Jake: im 21
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Okay so, here’s the thing. Jake is undeniably funny, witty, and kind. Another thing, he’s wildly attractive. Especially upon fulfilling your request for a workout selfie from him. So, what gives? You read the texts he’s sent that made you laugh out loud, you look at his pictures, stare at the workout selfie, and you genuinely cannot understand how he doesn’t have women waiting in line to have at him. 
You: it’s been like four days since we started talking
Grandpa Jake: yep, almost five
You: four days of being friends but no mention of your bio on the app, yknow, where you’re begging to have sex for the first time ever?
Grandpa Jake: right, yea. you wanna do it? i didn’t wanna assume lol
You: not answering that til you explain why. i mean, it’s totally ok that you are but like, you’re a green flag all around so im a little worried you might have like a micropenis or something
Disclaimer, if he had a micropenis, you’d still let him use it on you. After all, hooking up is something you enjoy doing regardless of size.
Grandpa Jake: i do NOT have a micropenis
You: prove it
Grandpa Jake: right now???
You laugh to yourself but also like, it’s the first time the two of you have done anything more than bully each other. Or rather, you bully him and he defends himself constantly. 
You: answer my question first
It takes a few minutes for him to respond, but you’re doing coursework anyway so it’s not a huge deal. Totally not like your ears perk up and a smile creeps across your face every time your phone goes off or anything. Definitely not. 
Grandpa Jake: um… i still live with my parents and before u make fun of me for that pls understand that its not like i wanna be here 
Grandpa Jake: i have a job and everything!!! im not a mooch!
He’s getting off track again. You could honestly care less if he still lives with his parents. You wish you still lived with yours, to save money at least. 
You: they won’t let you have anyone over? 
Grandpa Jake: well, that too but 
Grandpa Jake: listen this sounds real stupid but it just never happened? even when i tried or things almost happened, it never did
You: damn, you’re unlucky. so what happened with the girl who gave you a blowjob?
Grandpa Jake: her boyfriend walked in
You: WHAT
You’re trying to pity him, honestly, but damn. Did he go for a taken girl? Yikes. You hate to admit the ick that just flooded your mind. 
Grandpa Jake: its not like i knew she had a boyfriend
You: phew 
Grandpa Jake: so yea. do u wanna help me out or not? 
The whole reason you started talking to him was specifically to help him out. Now that you know he’s not some weirdo, and is definitely super hot and funny, hell yes. 
You: yeah, sure. 
You: about the micropenis though, 
Grandpa Jake: right…um
A few minutes of silence, your coursework is long forgotten in the anticipation of receiving your first dick pic from Jake. You wait, and you wait, and you wait.
You: i mean if you can’t prove it that's ok 
Grandpa Jake:  just give me a sec damn
He’s doing his best to get the most attractive angle. It’s not like he’s never sent nudes to anyone or anything, but like– this is you. The first person to actually agree to take his virginity. Should he hold it? Put a remote next to it for size? Should he have his face in the pic? Take a mirror pic? 
Of course, as he’s taking several pictures of his length to try and impress you, he had to get hard first. He can’t imagine you’d want a flaccid cock pic in your inbox, and that would also mean that he’s working himself up with the amount of touching, holding, and groping throughout the past sixteen photos he’s taken and deleted. It’s at the point that now it’s actually hard to care about taking a photo, pre-cum already dripping out of him as he continues to try.
He’s entered the realm of his regular horny self, only this time he’s texting you. Someone who wants to see what he’s packing. Taking a dick pic is insanely easy once he stops thinking with his brain, and he’s quick to send you a photo of himself this time. His chin at the top of the picture, face entirely hidden, hand wrapped around his thick and leaking cock, sweatpants shoved down. 
Grandpa Jake: [image attachment] 
In all fairness, you’ve never actually cared much for dick pics. Men always look too confident even with the smallest of girth being offered through the pixels. Jake though. He looks a bit desperate even with his face hidden. His cock looks desperate, his fingers wrapped around it look desperate, the way his sweatpants hug against his thighs look desperate. And now, you feel desperate. You keep your cool though.
You: oh, you were jerking off, got it. 
Grandpa Jake: sorry can’t help it 
Then he doesn’t text you back. Which is kind of a drag because he looks to be quite big in the photo alone. Maybe you’d be okay just this once to look like the desperate one. Mostly because you’re about ten seconds from trying to figure out which direction five miles away he resides so you can go palm his cock for him. Plus, the idea of an absolute simp virgin like him seeing you act a little desperate would probably be one for the books. 
You: you know i can help you out with that, right? especially since you definitely don’t have a micropenis
You’re still being ignored. The silence from your phone makes your belly flip around inside of you at the image of him doing it too. He probably does it a lot. He’s probably desperate to feel good and watches porn like 24/7. You can imagine how he’d act if you were in front of him right now, the very idea of taking his virginity becoming entirely too attractive.
Shrugging, knowing full well what he’s doing right now that’s causing him to ignore you, you press the call button and wait. You’re a little bit nervous, mostly because you’ve never actually heard his voice before, or better yet how he sounds when he’s getting off. You’re shocked that he actually answers. 
“Hello?” He says, muffled through the phone and trying to sound not-so-out-of-breath. It’s not like he looked at who was calling him anyway. With his luck, it’s probably Heeseung or some shit.
“Don’t hello me,” You gripe, narrowing your eyes at yourself in your mirror. “You’re just gonna jerk off without me after I agreed to help you fix your little problem?” 
The silence on his end is a bit nerve-wracking until you hear the frantic sound of his palm clearly wreaking havoc on him. You smirk, leaning back on your chair and sighing. On his end, processing that it’s you on the other line sends his entire body into a state of burning with arousal. Your voice is sweet even when you speak with the same sarcasm as you do via text. 
God, this alone is enough for him right now. 
“Were you at least thinking of me?”
He hums into the phone, indicating that yes, that’s exactly what he’s doing. His voice is kind of soft despite only hearing one word and a hum, you want to actually hear him talk to you, or moan, whichever he decides. 
“Were you looking at my pictures?”
He nods his head, forgetting that you’re not able to see him and instantly responds with a small and breathy yes instead. It’s a bit difficult for him to talk right now, especially now that he can put a voice to the photos he’s been jerking off to. It’s a bit overwhelming, actually.
“Do you want better ones?” You ask, encouraging him to speak a bit more. 
“Oh god, really?” He asks through the speaker, his hand pausing on his length as if to hold off until you confirm. “Like, nudes?”
“Mhm, yeah. If you want.” You smile as you speak to him, already standing to shimmy your pajamas off of you and stand in front of the mirror. “Or, you know what would be better?”
“Letting me come over and actually do it?” That’s what he wants to say to you, but he doesn’t, he simply raises a brow and bites his lip, trying to contain his excitement.
“What?” He asks, still keeping his responses short because despite how into this he is, he’s a bit shy about it. 
“I can facetime you.” 
He panics. That means you’ll be watching him too, right? Sure he’s sent nudes, he’s received nudes. He’s sent videos too, and received them. But never has he like, you know, live masturbated on facetime so someone else can watch. 
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” You backtrack at his silence, but you’re cut off almost immediately. 
“No! no, we can facetime–”
Your stomach flips again as you fix yourself quickly in the mirror before setting your phone against your desk and rolling back a bit in your chair to determine if it’ll work this way or not. It’s not like he’s expecting you to do it too, he probably just thinks you’re gonna sit here naked for him to stare at. You’re kind of excited to see him in action, to hear him in action for you.
You hit the button to switch the call over to facetime and once again adjust your phone as you stare at yourself in the camera. Then you’re needing to catch your breath at the image of him.
Oh fuck.
There he is, his camera angled towards his face and not at all toward what's going on below his waist, but you don’t mind at first. Looking at him, the lighting clearly shows that he’s a fan of mood lighting. You watch his eyes briefly, staring through the screen at you before moving your eyes to his arm, the one that clearly isn’t holding his phone because you can see it moving as he continues to jerk himself off. It’s an interesting feeling to have only seen him in photos until this moment, and it’s insanely attractive for some reason. Seeing him in motion, knowing what he’s doing, knowing that he feels good right now because of you.
“Let me see,” you say quietly, adjusting your bra strap and preparing to slip it off of you if he so much as asks. “Prop your phone up somewhere like I did.”
He nods, his eyes still staring straight through his screen at you as he moves around and the image becomes a blur of movement rather than his face. He settles in quickly, somehow looking even more attractive with the way his eyes no longer stare at the screen. You can almost sense a hint of shyness from him at this moment and it kind of floors you, given how easy he is to talk to and how easily he sent a dick pic to you.
“Feeling shy?” You ask, spreading your legs wide and cupping the seat of your panties, hiding the small spot of wetness forming there. “You act like I’m not going to be touching you at some point soon.”
You see him perk up, his eyes looking to you on the screen with more fondness than arousal. At the same time, his hand grips the base of his cock as he holds it straight up, erect and glistening proudly for you to look at. 
“You look pretty big, bet you could fill me up so nicely,” You try to compliment, boosting his confidence and ego as best you can simply because he looks pretty with a smile on his face. Especially when his cock twitches at the words. “Would you want to do that for me, Jake?”
“Oh god,” He groans, hearing his name come from your mouth for the first time. His hand jerks up his length once, almost aggressively as he winces at it. “This is going to be so embarrassing.” He admits now, sliding his palm up and down shamelessly as he watches between your spread legs. 
In a way, he wonders if you can see how desperate he is. There’s no way you can’t, right? Like, you can see how badly he wants you, right?
“Embarrassing, why?” You chuckle, tapping now at the spot between your legs. “Can you not see that I’m just as turned on right now?”
He groans again with deep breaths, releasing his length and using that same hand to swipe his hair out of his face, then immediately grimacing at the fact that he now has pre-cum in his hair. Embarrassing, all of it. 
“Well,” He tries to avoid you bringing up the fact that he just did that and only shoots his hand back to his cock in order to distract whatever off-hand shit you’re about to say. “You don’t even have your panties off yet, and I could probably get off right now.”
You laugh, not wanting to ruin the mood with the whole cum on his own face thing, so you save that for later. Instead, you instantly slip your panties off and present yourself to him much like he’s doing for you. 
“Better?”
Jake watched with his breath stuck in his throat, now finding it harder to breathe at the image of your pussy and the way he hopes he can touch it one day. 
“Can you–” He pauses, not being used to dirty talk towards anything other than the porn playing on his phone. He thinks hard, and you can see it based on the way he, once again, neglects his cock with an unmoving palm.
“Can I do what?  Go on,” You urge him, running a hand up to your chest and fondling your nipples right there in front of him, but not yet moving the fabric. “What do you want me to do for you, baby?”
Baby. You called him baby. Not that he’s into that but the fact that you did it makes him wonder if he is now. Maybe it’s because he wants you to take him for all he’s worth at this point. One, to get rid of the virginity looming over his head, and two, because you sound so fucking smooth when you’re watching him get off. 
“Can you spread your pussy for me?” He whispers at first, uncaring of how dirty it sounds falling out of his throat with a moan. 
His eyes are boring a hole through his screen as he watches one of your hands tease at your hidden nipples, and the other hand sliding up and down the wet folds there. So badly does he want to see it. He wants to see your hole pulsing for him, leaking, needy. Just like him.
His cock twitches wildly the second you do it for him. Two fingers spreading your pussy open and tensing your hips just to move it closer to the screen for him. 
“Is this what you want?” You start, making damn sure he can see every part of your glistening cunt. “You want to fuck this?” You chuckle now, slowly dipping a finger into yourself and pulling it back out to present the wetness for him.
“Oh,” he sighs, now fucking into his fist at a pace that proves he’s most definitely never fucked a woman before. “Fuck.”
You nod at him, urging him to keep admitting his attraction to you. You’re aware he doesn’t see it though, as his hips continue to move quicker and quicker each time you press your finger into yourself. 
“You gonna act like this when I’m riding you?” You ask with a tilted head, studying how hard he’s fucking against his hand. You can imagine how good it would feel if it were you, and quite frankly, this one finger isn’t enough at this point. 
“God. You’re gonna ride me?” He moans, eyes rolling only slightly as he imagines it, mouth falling open at the mere thought of it. 
“Mhm,” you hum, now sliding in another finger and scissoring yourself open with them. “Would you want that?”
Before you can even work yourself up, and before he can even answer that question, you see him release. His cum shooting out in spurts across his stomach and nearly up to his chest. His labored breathing shifts the lighting against his abs and makes him look so entirely delicious. You’ve never wanted to lick a man clean so badly in your life.
You’re not even upset that he didn’t make it into the knitty gritty, considering he’s a virgin and all and you’re literally fucking yourself in front of him while implying riding him. You’re actually flattered. 
His release caused him to see white for several moments, forgetting he’s even on camera for you. When he comes back to reality, watching you continue to finger yourself as your eyes scan your screen, all he can do is feel bashful. 
“S-shit, sorry,” He comments with a half laugh, looking down at his cum covered chest before looking at you again. Honestly, he could probably go again if you let him watch for a bit longer, but he’s embarrassed now. “I uh, didn’t mean to come that fast. It just kind of happened.”
“It’s okay,” You comfort him, slightly out of breath as you wonder if this is all you’re gonna get tonight. “It was cute.”
After a few moments, you sense his embarrassment and slowly slip yourself back into a sobering headspace, closing your legs and trying to ignore how wet you still are.
“Are you, um, done?” Jake says, disappointed.
“Mm, no.” You smile. “But it’s okay, I’d rather make you come first anyway.”
His face lights up despite the disappointment in his gut of not being able to see you get off. 
“You still wanna see me after this?”
You nod with a smile, endeared by his need to give, but inability to do it.
“When are you free?” You ask, wondering if he’s ever going to clean himself up. 
“Whenever you are.” He laughs, scratching the back of his head with, once again, the same cum-stained hand. 
“I’ll text you later then,” You smile through the screen and give a small wave before your genuine smile turns into a smirk. “After I take care of my little problem though.”
You notice him sitting up in protest, but you hang up with a satisfied laugh and head to the shower to both finish yourself off and clean up.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Grandpa Jake: what about 3pm on thurs?
You: you want to lose your virginity at 3pm….on a thursday???
Grandpa Jake: my parents have plans so ill have the house to myself for a few hours
You: or you could just come here? 
Grandpa Jake: if ur comfortable with that? i thought u were supposed to come here lol
You: im comfortable, plus my roommate will kick your ass if you’re weird
Jake contemplates hard on that last part but shrugs over it. Probably a girl thing, and it’s not like he’s an actual creep or anything. You’d be the one with power over him when the two of you are alone anyway. 
You: what about tomorrow, 8pm? 
Tomorrow. Hell yeah, tomorrow. God, he’d show up right the fuck now if you let him. He may live with his parents but he’s got a car. 
Grandpa Jake: send ur address, ill be there :) 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“Tomorrow, you’ll be a man.” Heeseung croaks through the speaker at Jake, totally assuming that this whole virginity loss dating app plan was actually just a joke. 
“Why do you have to say it that way?” Jake groans back, slapping his hand over his forehead and rubbing his temples. “I didn’t think anyone was actually gonna come through, she’s the first one.”
“What makes you think she’s actually gonna send you her address?” Heeseung laughs, once again placing more pity onto his best friend than anything else. “She’s probably not even a real person, you’re gonna end up at some old guy’s house.”
Jake laughs, or snorts really. 
“Oh, she’s real.”
Heeseung sits up in curiosity this time, switching his phone to the other ear with interest. 
“Hm? Have you already met her?”
“Kind of. We like, um,” Jake pauses, wondering if he sounds way too excited to tell him or not. “We facetimed a few hours ago.”
Silence.
“She got naked.”
“Oh ho ho!” Heeseung encourages him. “So you guys did some stuff on facetime and she still wants to meet you?” 
“That’s what I said–wait,” Jake smiles to himself, about two seconds from kicking his feet before realizing what Heeseung just said. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” 
“You’re kind of a loser, we’ve been over this.” Heeseung laughs yet again. “Call me when you get your cherry popped or whatever.”
Then he hangs up. 
Grandpa Jake: do u think im a loser?
You: yeah kinda
You’re laughing at his text as you sit across the table from Jay.
“That him texting?” Jay quirks a brow, watching you smile at your phone and practically ignore him. 
You laugh again at Jake’s string of defensive texts before responding with a short “it’s okay, i like losers”, and putting your phone down to finish telling Jay that he’s gonna get kicked out tomorrow for the night. 
“So,” You clap your hands in front of yourself, glaring at Jay. “You’re gonna have to be gone tomorrow at eight because I'm about to literally obliterate this guy.”
“Jesus, I’m scared for him.”
“You should be scared for me. Because, well…” You trail off for a second, scrolling up your texts to see the dick pic Jake sent before the facetime call. “He’s huge and–”
“I did not need to know that.” Jay sighs, scooting back in his chair and standing to his feet. 
“You act like you don’t ask every time I fuck someone.” You roll your eyes at him, smiling. “Weirdo.”
Jay stands there awkwardly before shrugging and lunging for your phone. 
“How big?” He laughs, not actually trying to see the dude’s dick but always way too curious for his own good despite never wanting to be around to hear what the big dicks do to his best friend. 
“Stop prying, you’ll get jealous.”
He scoffs, brushing off his pants of invisible dust and crossing his arms. 
“I’ll have you know, my dick is perfectly sized.”
“I’m sure it is. Anyway, tomorrow, be gone.” 
He nods, sauntering to the living room and flopping down on the couch. 
“Keep it in your room, please. I don’t want to sit on any cum when I get home.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
It’s Thursday. It’s approximately seven in the evening on Thursday and you’re well aware that Jake is probably bubbling with anxiety if his texts are anything to go by. 
So many “are you sures,” so many “you can tell me to leave if you decide you don’t want tos,” and even more “i can’t wait to see yous.”
“Jay, aren’t you supposed to be leaving?” You ask, opening the fridge to pull out a bottle of water. 
You’ve already showered again today, primped yourself up for him really. Everything smooth, soft, and ready to be touched. You wonder if Jake is doing the same, and smile.
“Hm, yeah. But I kinda wanna see him before I leave.”
You turn your head to him with a curious look, glaring only slightly.
“I swear to god if you scare him off, I’m kicking you out.”
Jay laughs, patting the couch as if to invite you to sit with him to ease your own anxiety. He can smell the familiar lotion you use before dates, and he notes that you’ve really tried to look good today. 
“I think you might kill him, if I’m being honest.” Your best friend laughs softly, complimenting you. 
“Thanks, that’s the plan.”
And so, the two of you sit together laughing at stupid comedy shows until your phone lights up at around seven thirty. 
Grandpa Jake: i’m a little early, is that ok? 
“Oh shit, he’s here.” You immediately feel nervous, which is pretty normal for you anyway so it’s easily overlooked by Jay. 
He jumps up, brushing off his clothes and walking toward the kitchen to grab his keys and wallet. 
“Let him in then, I’ll leave when he gets here.”
You give him a knowing look before nodding. 
You: second floor, take a left when you get to the top of the stairs, third apartment on the left.
Within minutes, there’s a very gentle knock on the door and Jay is throwing himself at it to get a look at him. Unfortunately it’s a bit more awkward than he expected it to be. 
Not only did Jake think your roommate was a woman, but he, at the very least, expected you to answer the door. He was preparing himself all day for this moment, to knock on your door and have you open it. At first he thought that maybe he even got the wrong apartment. 
“Oh, I think I got the wrong place, sorry–” 
“Nope, you’re in the right place.” Jay smiles, stepping to the side and opening the door wider for him. “You can come in.”
Jake does, awkwardly. Avoiding eye contact with Jay and barely even looking into the apartment before stepping inside. 
“She got all cleaned up for you.” Jay whispers, throwing Jake a wink before stepping out and closing the door behind him.
Jake still hasn’t really looked up from the floor yet, and you make quick work to make him feel more comfortable. 
“Don’t mind him, that’s my roommate.” You say, making your way toward him and trying your best not to stare because, okay, wow. He’s kind of ten times more attractive in person, which is fucking insane considering how good he looked through a screen. 
“Have you and him ever like…” Jake immediately starts, realizing he might have made things weird. 
“Jay?! Oh, god no.” You laugh, reaching for his arm and feeling him lean into it with relief. “You’re allowed to look up by the way. You’ve been staring at that crack in my floor since you got here.”
Immediately Jake moves his eyes up to you, the eye contact feeling more intense than it should, but you’re locked in too. The awkwardness dissolves almost instantly, he feels no need to question you further about anything really, especially with the way he feels his throat run dry at the very idea of this whole plan actually happening at some point.
When he made his profile on that app, it was kind of a half joke until like, people started talking to him. Given, no one ever followed through but you, he’s happy he stuck with it. Happy you came out of the works from said dating app, happy you picked him. 
Really though, he picked you. Part of you wonders about why you want to take this from him. For power, for control, to be praised, to feel like you’re his entire world of desire for a brief time? All of those things, yes, but you can admit now that he’s in front of you that it’s a bit intimidating. 
He’s not shy at all, just a bit awkward. He seems confident, he seems ready, and you find yourself lucky for being the one to get to do this for him, or with him. If at all, Jake is the type of man you could see yourself hanging out with often, with or without having sex. 
Given, upon seeing him face to face for the first time, the only thing you thought about was how attractive he is. Now though, as you look back at him along with the silence of this apartment offering nothing more than awkwardness, it’s not. Because you’re seeing him for all he is and he appears to not be able to help it. Is this what people mean when they say there’s an instant spark between two people? Despite how attractive he is, you find yourself thinking of how many times he’s made you laugh in the short period of time you’ve known him along with how many times he’s willingly embarrassed himself
And now for the first time, he’s right there and all you want to do is…give him exactly what he wants.
“Okay, listen,” You start, swallowing around a lump in your throat as you feel your body heat up at record speed by just having his eyes looking into yours. You know by this point that you’re not going to be keeping your hands to yourself at all. And for his sake, he’d probably prefer it that way. “If I move too fast, just tell me to stop.”
Jake tilts his head with a dopey smile, eyes still fixed on you, scanning you, coming to terms with the fact that you’re absolutely everything he thought you would be and more. 
“I don’t think that’s gonna be an issue,” He admits, feeling his length confined within his pants twitch wildly at the fact that this is happening. “I struggled not to get hard just driving over.” He laughs, looking away from you for the first time with flushed cheeks. 
You find that painfully adorable. No man would ever admit that to you. Especially after just a few minutes of meeting in person for the first time, but this is Jake and in the short amount of time you’ve known him, you’re kind of expecting him to be really forward and say things that will have you frozen in thought.
“Oh yeah?” You ask, grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen. You’re pretending that his apparent inexperience isn’t getting to you, but you’re not really fooling anyone. “Let’s get you some water or something, I can see you drooling.”
Jake laughs, shrugging because yeah maybe he’s drooling a little bit. You smell fucking immaculate, your hand is small in his but still manages to overpower him, your skin feels soft and slightly cold. Honestly, it’s dangerous just having you stand in front of him right now because he could absolutely blow his load just by you looking at him. Embarrassing? Always.
He follows after you, very nearly crowding up to you as the comfort sets in and the last bit of awkwardness leaves his mind. All he can think about is how you sounded over that facetime call. He’s seen what’s between your legs, and during that night all he could think about was touching you, fucking you. 
Now he’s here, and you’re right there. 
It’s hard not to crowd up, it’s hard not to cling to you, it’s hard not to be excited. Seeing your hand wrapping around that bottle of water to give to him, seeing you lean just before grabbing it– of course he’s staring. Of course he’s crowding closer, almost to the point that he’s up against your ass when you lean back up from the fridge.
You turn after grabbing him the bottle and are shocked by his close proximity when you face him. He looks down at you with a soft face, one that shows he’s not embarrassed by how he immediately attaches to you. His smile is just as clumsy as he is, you can tell he knows exactly what he’s doing too. You’re glad, because it makes it entirely too easy to drop the water bottle, grab his face, and chase his lips all the way until he’s against the counter and kissing you back. 
He sighs instantly into it, wincing at the way the kitchen counter hits his back, you pressing against him so harshly just to get that first taste of his lips. He’s excited that you seem as eager as him, maybe even as desperate as him. 
For you, a man has never been this eager just to kiss you, nor has a man ever kissed you this good. You can imagine that he’s probably got a lot of experience in terms of kissing, not much elsewhere though. You can tell by the way he moves his hands to all of the right places, but his blatant virginity shows through all of it as he becomes a horny mess almost instantly. 
His tongue is warm and wet, small whining sounds coming from his throat as you press yourself against him briefly. His hands never leave your body and he shows no shame in touching where he wants to touch. Rubbing, groping, and caressing every inch of your waist, ass, and even moving up to your face to deepen the kiss. His hips press forward almost constantly, and all you can do is brace yourself on the counter behind him to try and tame his relentless hips and obvious attempts at rushing what he wants right now. 
If you’re going to sleep with him though, he’s gonna get the full experience, not a quickie. Plus, you agreed to keep it in your room for Jay’s sake. 
“Hey,” you sigh, trying to pull back from the kiss but he isn’t having it. Still kissing against you and running his lips down to your neck when you continue to speak. “We should go to my room, your first time isn’t about to be in my kitchen.”
“Why not?” He groans against your neck, kissing harshly with faint wet sounds, his hands wrapping tightly around your waist now. “I don’t care where we do it, i just want you like, really bad.”
Still, his lips don’t leave you, nor do his hands. You find yourself giggling against him with a shake of your head at the way he protests when you pry yourself from his grip. Of course, though, he’s immediately clinging to you and chasing after you to your bedroom before practically throwing himself at you again.
You barely get the door closed before he’s pressing you against the wall, hand running down again to your waist and easily snaking up your shirt just to feel the warmth of your skin. You let him, enjoying the way he kisses you for just the second time, enjoying more the way you can feel him lose his composure every few minutes from this alone. 
You’re kind of in love with the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to pull back even for a breath. He seems to love kissing, and you wonder what else he’ll come to love doing tonight too. From the way he moves his tongue and his lips on you, you can imagine he’d be fucking heavenly at eating pussy.
Successfully you push him away again, rushing to your bed before he can make you melt against his lips for a third time, and you’re instantly trying to present yourself to him much like you did over camera. 
“You’re really going to let me?” He asks with a deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face and wiping his mouth. His brain malfunctions at your presumed answer to that question, watching you take your panties and shorts off in one go and leaning back to spread your legs for him. 
At this moment, you’re all his and you make it a point to spread your pussy out for him like he asked you to do before. You can practically see his knees buckle that very instant.
“To think I wouldn’t want to do this is insane,” You say, wiggling your hips for him to see. “Look how wet I am.” You pause, studying the hungry look in his eyes. “Do you wanna try eating me out?”
He doesn’t even nod. He’s immediately on his knees against your bed and gripping your thighs to pull you toward his face. You yelp only slightly at the movement, a chuckle coming out shortly after as you sit yourself up properly to take in the image of his eyes sparkling up at you. 
It looks like he’s been wanting to do this to someone all his life, with his needy body proving it time and time again. Your breath is caught in your throat, a small groan coming out at the image alone before you’re able to process words again. 
“Can’t believe how good you look down there,” You say softly, brushing his hair out of his face for him like he did to himself earlier. “Have you ever done this before?”
He shakes his head, eyes shifting from your pussy to your face. You can feel his nervous yet eager breath against you, making your eyelashes flutter at even that slight sensation. 
“Go on then.” You sigh out, trying to prepare for what he can manage with that pretty mouth of his.
You watch him and the way he doesn’t seem to think at all when he does it. Once again, he’s adorable. His tongue goes everywhere, only grazing your clit briefly every few licks, never staying on it presumably because he’s in the process of finding the clit based on how your body reacts. 
He has a general idea of where it is, but the feeling of having your pussy spread out like this on his lips alone is enough to overwhelm him with arousal, to the point he genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing. All he can do is taste and smell the mixture of your warmth along with the soap and lotion you must have used before he came here. 
He’s quite literally tasting the entirety of you and loving every second of it. The way his hands grip your legs, both spreading them further open so that he can tilt his head and lick at different angles, and then hugging them to where they almost lock his head in place. 
It feels like he does this for ages, learning your body and what makes your legs shake. He sucks in different places, kissing your entire pussy to the point that it’s almost impossible for your legs not to shake in a reaction at what he’s doing to you.
Dare you say, a man who is inexperienced at eating a woman out somehow feels better than one who knows exactly where to go. 
“Fuck, knew you’d be good at this,” You compliment with a shaky voice, reaching down to his hair and holding his head in place. “Keep licking there, and use your fingers too.” 
He hums without stopping, taking note of where you place his lips and reminding himself that this is the clit, just as suspected. He attaches his lips there, kissing it much like he kissed you in the kitchen. 
You can feel his fingers make their way into you shortly after, each bump of his knuckle sending a delicious sensation throughout your body. You’re tingling from your head to your toes at this point and your face heats up beyond what you thought it would. Your hips move on their own in response, experimentally fucking against his fingers as he keeps his tongue flicking at you. 
“Just like that,” You encourage him, running your hands through his hair and looking down at him. Seeing his head move with each little thrust of your hips is only more arousing in this moment. His eyes half open, watching you, tasting you, almost smiling around your clit when he makes eye contact with you. 
It almost seems like he’s asking if he’s doing well, and goddamn is he. He’s doing amazing.
“So good,” You say shortly, trying to give him the praise he needs while scratching against his scalp as a thank you, still fucking your hips up just to feel his fingers plunge deeper. 
He, on the other hand, is fucking feral right now. Tasting you, dipping his fingers into you, feeling that warmth for the first time, the small clenches— he’s swimming in a fantasy. Every time you move your hips up, he can smell the entirety of you, he can feel your pussy squeeze his fingers, and god. He doesn’t think he ever wants this to end.
All day. He could do this all fucking day. No wonder men make fun of other guys for not giving head. Why wouldn’t they? He can feel your legs tensing up around his head, your gentle fingers running through his hair, the sounds coming from your lips. He’s in love, he’s in love.
He doesn’t stop, tongue flicking your clit so beautifully, fingers slowly fucking in and out of you, not even in time with your jerking hips. Shockingly, you approach orgasm so fucking fast that you can barely warn him, you’re not even thinking when you put pressure on his head, pressing his lips so harshly against your clit— his moan sending a vibration straight through you.
“Faster, with your fingers—“ You choke out in a drawn out and pornographic moan, curling your toes and feeling him do exactly as you say. 
There, you release with his fingers plunging in and out of you, the wet sound of your pussy only sounding more messy by the time you begin to release. In the midst of it all, you feel him pull his lips from your clit and lick around his fingers before coming back up and continuing his ministrations, working you through an orgasm you’re not even sure he knows you’re having right now.
Insane, really, that he needed to taste the messy relief before resuming. 
Strings of curses, little tugs against his hair, legs shaking, all of it happens at once until the feeling of his fingers become sensitive inside of you, until his tongue is flicking a bundle of nerves begging to be left alone. 
You swat him away with a smile, leaning up quickly and grabbing him by the shirt. 
He doesn’t really know what the fuck is going on but he laughs with you, being pulled to his feet and falling onto the bed on top of you. You can feel his cock in his pants, so fucking hard, probably leaking and feeling quite neglected.
“Did you…?” He asks softly, dipping his head shyly with his wet chin shining in the light of your room.
You smile at him, leaning up to kiss him square on the mouth before you flip him over and get between his legs. 
“I did,” You laugh in a daze, starting to work on his button and zipper. You’re reeling from the recent orgasm and want nothing more than to let him feel the same way you do right now. “And now, I'm gonna do the same for you.”
He chokes out a nervous laugh, holding your hand in place from pulling his pants down.
“Unless, you don’t want that?” You ask, tilting your head with a bit of a frown.
“N-No!  It’s not that!” He reassures you, cheeks flushing more than they already were. “It’s just that– like, what if I don’t last very long? I’m kind of sensitive.”
His eyes avoid yours when he says it and once again, most adorable man award goes to fucking Jake.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You lean forward, kissing him again. “You just gave me some of the best head in my life.”
The light in his eyes returns and instantly he’s flashing a nervous smile at you. 
“Jake, I’ve never gotten off that fast from being eaten out.” You reassure him again, making a point to use his name loud and clear. “If you don’t get off from me sucking your cock, I might actually cry.” 
Well, he can’t have that now, can he? 
He releases your grip on his jeans, allowing you to pull them down. For some reason unable to look at you despite knowing you’ve seen him jerk off before. It’s the fact that like, what if it’s suddenly not big enough? What if his cock is ugly or curved in a way you don’t like?
Before he can even start to doubt himself more, he feels your lips on the tip and instantly his eyes are looking down at you. You’re the one smiling now, using one hand to hold his base and the other hand already scooping up his balls for added pleasure. 
You make a point to look him in the eye as you let the saliva collect in your mouth when you pull back slightly. There, you let it fall from the tip of your tongue, all the way until you feel the wetness against your fingers wrapped around his base. 
He thinks he’s going to go fucking insane watching you like this, and god, does he. You don’t even show him your struggle of taking in the sheer size of him. Lowering your mouth until you’re taking him in as much as you can. You try to keep eye contact up until you have to close your eyes. 
It’s not shocking that by the point you get half of his length into your mouth, he’s fucking up without full intention and letting out a choked apology. Still, you try to force your stretched lips to smile for him, even through the gag, even through the harsh feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat. 
How the fuck has a cock this good not been worshiped before? By a mouth? A hand? A pussy? You’ll be damned not to choke on it. You’d rather eat glass than to let him leave this apartment without being completely emptied and praised for every drop. 
He’s actually struggling already not to come, holding himself back but failing each time his hips chase the warmth of your throat. Each time you gag, it stimulates the fuck out of his cock and he nearly wants to cry each time it happens. Even with that other girl who went down on him, she didn’t even attempt to fit this much in her mouth. Most of the pleasure came from her hand jerking him off while she suckled against his head, but you. You’re down there, slipping your mouth up and down on him like that, gagging, tearing up, and still fucking smiling about it. 
He’s in love.
He holds his hands back at least, keeping them against your sheets and gripping them so hard that he fears he’s ripping through them. Everything feels hot, you look hot, you sound hot, your tongue still manages to move against the base of his cock with what little room it does have, and god– your other hand, massaging his balls. 
“Wait, wait wait–” Jake groans, fucking his hips into your mouth once again until you pull off with a concerned look. 
“Were my teeth hurting you?” You ask, gasping a bit for air.
“No!” He heaves out with fluttering lashes, trying to regain sanity. “I was just getting really close.”
“Hm?” You sigh in disappointment, this time going all in at once and not letting yourself stop until he’s releasing into your mouth. 
You feel his shaking fingers brush your cheek when you do it, hollowing it out just to fit more, more, more into your mouth before lapping your tongue against his base again. 
His groaning turns into frantic moans, his hips jerking wildly, unable to escape the clenching muscles of your gagging throat, and he’s honestly in heaven once again. 
“Ah–wait–fuck.” He tries to protest, not wanting to finish so quickly, but there it goes. There he goes.
Never in his life has he felt an orgasm so satisfying. His eyes roll back and his fingers go numb when he releases, pumping himself deep into your throat and not stopping until he’s dizzy. The fact that you kept your mouth on him through it, the fact that he could still feel you gagging, swallowing, and moaning all at once through it– how?
“How–” he takes a breath, pulling you off of him so you can breathe. “How did you do that?”
You shrug with a confident smile, wiping your tears and crawling up to meet his face. 
“I don’t normally do that for guys.” You say with a rasp in your voice. “I certainly don’t just swallow for anyone.”
He feels special, and fucking spent but god does he want to keep going. His softening cock twitching in a relieving way, probably glad to have finally been touched by something other than his own hand. Part of him wonders if you’re done though, because by now you’ve both gotten off and usually that’s the end goal, right?
But he hasn’t lost his virginity yet, and when he looks at you hovering above him, he already knows you’re not done with him. 
“We need to let you rest until you can get hard again,” You say, kissing him more easily than before and letting him taste himself, letting you taste yourself mixed with him. “What’s something you wanna do to get you back into the game?”
He sighs out a laugh, fucking amazed that you’re his first. How lucky is that? He thinks hard, watching the way you lift your shirt off of yourself. God, he forgot tits existed for a solid part of this day and that’s a shame because instantly his sensitive cock throbs at the image of them coming into view. 
You watch him stare, trailing your hands down and lifting his shirt off of him as well. 
“I– I don’t even know at this point.” He admits with a stammer, ignoring the fact that his hair is definitely sticking up all over from you taking his shirt off of him.
“I’ll just love on you while you think, then.”
He gives a short nod, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside at the way your gentle hands caress his chest and abs before you start kissing against the muscles and soft skin there.
He relaxes his body, feeling your hands and lips on him. You were right when you said you’d love on him as he thinks about it. The hard part of it is actually thinking about what’s going to get him harder the fastest. You doing this could be enough, but your tits. And fuck, your pussy.
He lets out a whine, one that feels entirely out of character and it causes you to pause your gentle kiss against his nipple and pull back.
“Already?” 
He shakes his head, staring straight at your chest and then down to what's between your legs. 
“I want to, um…” He shifts his eyes away from you. “Can I eat you out again?”
That’s new. Twice in one session?
“Oh yeah? Did that get you going?”
You receive a small nod from him before his hands are reaching out for your tits and warming them up. 
You relax into the feeling of his fingers on your chest only for a moment before you pull back again, this time adjusting yourself onto the bed face down, ass up in front of him. Might as well try a bunch of different positions for him too, right?
“Whenever you’re ready.” You sigh, already grabbing a pillow to hug through this. 
You can feel the bed shift behind you, the weight of his body dipping right behind you before you feel his warm breath against your core. Only now do you realize that you already missed the way he ate you out the first time, you can barely contain yourself knowing he’s going to do it again. 
His hands snake between your legs before his lips get any closer, spreading them before pulling his hand back up and spreading your pussy open with his fingers on his own this time. 
“It’s really the prettiest.” He says in a clear and shaking voice, watching the way your hole pulses at the air that hits it. “And I've watched a lot of porn.”
You’d tell him to shut up, but you’re not gonna because it’s cute how forward he is with his thoughts. If anything, he’s treating you right now by doing this, so he can say whatever he fucking wants right now. 
“Yeah? You just gonna stare at it?” You try to urge him, and it works.
Because of course it works. 
You do your best to contain any rising orgasm, solely because you don’t want to spend yourself before you actually let him inside of you in full. But goddamn, he’s just as eager now as he was the first time…if not more. 
He thinks back to the things he did before, mimicking that and hitting all of the perfect spots without fail. Still, you hold back, pushing and pulling yourself away and toward him just to feel his tongue chase. He eventually holds you in place against him, big hands holding you firmly against his face with a bit of force. And now? He’s licking you deeper than you’ve ever been licked before. It’s a different kind of sensation, and the way he groans into it is entirely too much for you right now. 
You need more, you want more. You want all of him by now, so aroused by every touch, breath, and moan that it’s becoming unbearable to just be eaten out. The thought that he’s doing this to get himself hard again is flooring, and the feeling of his fingers replacing his tongue much like before is intense. 
After just that one time, he knows exactly how to make you cum this way and it’s dangerously attractive to realize that. He goes straight for it too, pulling back to watch his fingers slip into you up to the knuckle. 
He hums out a rumbled moan at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. So wet. More wet than any of the girls in the porn he’s watched for years. You’re dripping around his fingers, and the smacking sound is so fucking arousing to him.
And yeah, he can’t reach your clit with his mouth this time so he thinks hard about how to fix this little dilemma and you’re floored even more by the fact that he solves problems without questioning. You feel his fingers leave you and land on your clit, and right then you feel his tongue again, just as deep, licking into you and all over you. 
The sound of your pussy amplifies when it’s against his tongue, and honestly, he could cum right now if he really wanted to. Already he’s hard again, but god feeling you, hearing you, seeing you like this for him? For some guy who has never once been able to give a girl his all like this? 
He’s so focused on you.
Which for you, is a bit of an issue because he’s really not going to let you hold it in, he’s going to have you fucking unravelling again and it’s too good. Thankfully, when you try to lift to look behind yourself, you take note of his other hand working himself. 
He’s hard again, and god knows how long he’s been doing that. 
You pull your body away from him quickly to let your rising orgasm subside, his protesting moan doing nothing but heating your body up more when you flip over and watch him. 
“You were really just going to get me off again and not try to fuck me yet?”
He looks down at himself and then back at you, smiling and running his hand through his hair. 
“I like doing it, I wanted to see if I could make you–”
“You absolutely could have but I’m going to be honest,” You start, interrupting him and pulling yourself up to crawl over him. “If you’re ready, I’d like to live up to my promise.”
His eyes are much sharper than they were before when you say those words. This is actually it. He would have been perfectly happy just eating you out, getting head himself, or whatever. Over and over again. Any and all of it is better than being in his room alone, but you’re really–
“Really?” He asks, knowing full well the answer.. 
“Lay back, get comfortable,” You instruct with deep breaths, scooting up the bed with him, keeping yourself planted on his legs despite the discomfort. “You still want me to ride you, yeah?”
He nods almost frantically, landing his hands on your tits without hesitation and groping them in a blatant show of how ready he’s managed to get himself for this. 
Not that you want to rush, but you’re so fucking turned on by this point, the only thing you want is to be filled by him. His is cock likely bigger than any you’ve taken before, and to be fair, you don’t even care if you’re the desperate one at this point. You’ve almost forgotten he’s a virgin.
“Wait,” He stops you when you slide over his cock, bare pussy coating his length in a languid grind. “Oh, fuck, wait- no,” He breathes in a sharp breath and grips your hips. ”Do that again.” 
You smile at his frantic thoughts pouring from his lips, sliding against him again, and again, up until he’s leaning forward and attaching his lips to one of your nipples and suckling against it hard. 
You groan as you grind, feeling the head of his now, fully hard, cock bumping against your previously stimulated clit. He groans with you, almost at the exact same time but continues to try and leave his mark on you. In love with finally getting your tits in his mouth, your pussy on his cock, and most of all, in love with the fact that you’re not laughing at him for any of it. You seem to melt into it much like he does and he can’t help but want to email the creator of that fucking app and personally thank them for this. 
You rub yourself against him until it’s even more unbearable than before. By now, you’ve completely soaked his length and he’s completely soaked your chest in saliva and tiny swollen bite marks. Not that you mind the biting, his little rumbled grow-like moans only made this all the more arousing.
“Ready?” You finally sigh out, deliberately grinding against him slowly now, with almost your entire weight behind the grinds. 
He groans out a “please” before immediately gripping your hips and stopping you. Pulling his head back so hard and so quickly– he kind of forgot to unlatch from your nipple and it sends a sharp pain throughout your body, one that only makes you want to ride him hard. Right now. 
“Hold on, there’s a condom in the pocket of my jeans–”
“Okay, and?” You laugh, sliding forward again and grinding your clit against him. “I’m on birth control, and I’m clean.” 
He looks at you, his sharp eyes falling back into the sparkling doe eyes as his mouth falls open at the very idea that he gets to hit is fucking raw for the first time? 
“Unless you’re lying, and you’re not really a virgin?”
He’s quick to silence your doubt. He’s 100% never had his cock inside of anything other than his own palm and– malfunction. He’s blank again, staring up at you and wincing at the feeling of you pleasuring yourself on top of him. 
“Please?” He manages to get out, gripping your hips so tightly by now that he’s sure it’s hurting you. 
You smile, humming at him when you lift from him, standing on your knees to grab his cock and position him in the right place. 
“You sure you want it too?” You ask, only now realizing that you’re genuinely about to take a man’s virginity, and it’s only fair that you give him one last time to decide if he wants you to take it from him. Despite how turned on you are, and regardless of how badly you want to fuck him, it’s not right to just do it without making him really think about it. 
“Fuck, yes.” His fingers tighten against you, his eyes squeeze shut, and his voice comes out as frantic and quite frankly, a bit annoyed. “Just do it already.” 
You can’t help but smile at him when you do. Lowering yourself slowly on him and feeling the stretch of it. His face is something that you don’t think you’ll ever forget. He appears to be lost in it, eyes rolling back, his chest heaving, his teeth showing through a half-smile as he moans out at the sensation. 
He can’t get over how warm it is inside of you, the constant clenching of your pussy dragging along his entire length. He can’t help it when he moans, he doesn’t care that his voice cracks, or that it sounds like a pathetic sob. 
By the time you bottom out and sit like that for a moment, you almost feel like he’s the one who needs to adjust. Of course, you’re needing this moment to adjust too but god– just watching him makes you that much more wet and it’s insane how into him you are right now. As if you haven’t been since you started talking to him.
“Feels good?” You ask, involuntary clenching around his size, letting out a small sigh yourself at the feeling of his leaking cock inside of you. 
He hums at you and then takes in a deep breath before fully opening his eyes again and looking at you. Technically, he’s no longer a virgin now. It’s fucking happening, and you’re hot? So fucking hot? You feel so good? You smell so good. You sound so fucking good. 
Everything is overwhelmingly good, all he can do now is press his hips up and instantly moan out at the new feeling. 
You take that as an invitation to absolutely obliterate him, much like you knew you would. So, you do. Lifting yourself up and sliding him almost entirely out of you before sinking down again. 
His hands shoot to your waist, then he lifts slightly to grab your ass from behind you, and then he flops himself back– seemingly unable to know what the fuck to do with himself at this feeling. 
You opt to grab his hands, intertwining your fingers with his and holding them above his head, all so you can lay chest to chest with him, lips right at his neck. You start kissing, riding him so smoothly and doing nothing but listening to his little sounds that he tries to keep inside. 
“You’re really cute, you know that?” You whisper against his ear, kissing there too before pulling back to look at his face.
That half-smile never leaves his face, and his fingers squeeze against yours so tightly that you actually start to worry that he may break them. Thankfully, he begins to relax after a few minutes. Adjusting to the overwhelming pleasure and now losing himself to the arousal rather than fighting it. 
You nearly squeak when you feel him release your hands and grab your face, pulling you up to him as he kisses you mindlessly. Breathlessly, moaning into your mouth all while moving his own hips now. You can feel him jerk his hips, imagining how he fucked his hand through facetime. This is better than that.
You prop to stand up on your knees, offering him the space to fuck you as hard as he’d like, and god. It’s hard. It’s deep, and it’s so clumsy. No rhythm, no thought behind it at all, you can fucking tell he’s purely running on adrenaline as he plunges into you. 
He’s actually going so hard, that your moans sound more pained than pleasurable, but that’s not the case at all. You actually can’t stop moaning, it’s just the fact that each time he slams into you, your throat lets out a broken sound. 
For a moment, you think you can actually hear him unintentionally growl against your slack lips as he does it. Already he’s lasted longer than you thought he would, especially without a condom, and you’re so fucking impressed by it. 
You slide your hand between your bodies, easily rubbing your own clit and drying out your throat even more with the consistent loud moans of how good he’s doing. After a few moments though, his hips stutter and you take that as a sign that you should take over again.
“I don’t know how the fuck you’re doing this to me,” You laugh out of pity for yourself, “I really thought I could last longer than this.”
He barely hears you through his ringing ears and rapid heartbeat, but he chuckles at the compliment. Feeling like he must be doing something right to have a woman say that to him. There’s one issue. He’s about two thrusts from cumming again and he will be damned to ruin this for you. 
You take over, riding him harshly and rubbing your clit even harder. He takes a moment to try and distract himself from how good your pussy feels clenching him and takes it upon himself to bite down hard against his tongue. Something to hurt enough to keep his orgasm from bubbling over, but also not something so awful that he’d lose his arousal entirely. 
You continue, pushing yourself back up from him and watching the way he tries to focus on anything but what’s happening. You ride deliberately to get him off though, knowing that the second he does, you’ll let yourself go too. He doesn’t seem to be picking up the hints. 
“Are you close?” You ask, out of breath and riding him so consistently that it’s becoming more and more difficult to hold your own orgasm. “Let it go, do it with me–”
Instantly, you hear him whimper out a moan as he releases the bite on his tongue. Shooting himself forward and hugging you so tightly that the pressure of your fingers against your clit is entirely unbearable. 
“Oh, god. I’m–” You start, moaning against his hair as he hugs against you.
He’s so fucking relieved, already releasing into you as you say those words. All he can do is breathe through it, feeling your pussy pulse around him as he continues to empty himself into you. 
It’s entirely too intense, his ears popping and heart threatening to send him to a hospital. Never did he think having sex was this intense. 
Little does he know… it’s not. But even you, for some reason, find yourself wondering why the fuck that was so good. 
By the time you pull yourself off of him, both of you wincing and trying to ignore the mixture of cum running down your legs, all you can do is look at him with curiosity. 
He can barely open his eyes to look back at you, but he tries, he really does. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
He’s not going home tonight. Of course he’s not. Like, how fucking rude would it be to take his virginity and send him on his way? Absolutely the fuck not.
In fact, you made him some food, wobbling on spent legs throughout the kitchen as he lays on his death bed in your room. (He’s being dramatic.)
All he can do is listen to the sounds of you in the other room and think hard about how he just felt. Physically, it was a lot. Surely if sex is like that all the time, he’d rather not do it as often as Heeseung does. Honestly, his sanity would be at stake. 
But like, you’re kind of amazing. Given, the two of you barely know each other past lame texts and bullying each other. Physically, you know him more than any other woman and that’s a block he didn’t think would be an issue until it became one.
You made him cum twice. And he thinks you did too, unless you’re lying just to make him feel better. There’s no way you didn’t feel the intensity of that though. There’s no way your wobbling legs were lying to him when you got up and told him you wanted to have a snack before bed.
There’s no way you would let him sleep over if you didn’t feel the same way he does right now.
And by the time you’re back, handing him a plate of food, he can’t help but believe that nothing will ever taste as good as you.
The thing is, that’s one of the main reasons you did this. To be praised, to have a man think you’d be the best he will ever have until he eventually meets someone else and they do better than you did. Now though, you feel weird. 
This is a one night stand. A charity-fuck, as it still stands at least. 
“So,” You start, taking a bite of your food still as naked as can be regardless of how stupid it must look to be eating in a cum-soaked bed like this. “I guess you should change your bio in the app now.”
He looks at you, and then at his food.
“Yeah, I guess I should…” 
“I’ll help you fix your age on it. Now that you know what you’re doing with a woman and all.”
It’s silent for a minute.
“Is it too forward if I say that I’d rather just delete the app and keep calling you?”
Thank fuck Jake is forward and embarrassing with it. You’re not ready to give up the single life but on the other hand, after that, you’re not exactly ready to share him with other women just yet either. If he wants to attach himself for a while, you’re going to let him. Purely because, like, look at him. Everything is endearing, and when he’s not being adorable he’s just being fucking hot.
Maybe you will be ready to give up the single life if it’s with Jake. 
You nod with a smile, wondering if he expects you to delete the app too. Because you’re not so sure about that, but also you think you probably would if he asks with those stupid doe eyes. 
Strangely enough, he doesn’t even ask. He just starts eating the food with a content look on his face. Sweat having dried up but left his hair a mess, his skin is glowing– you think…oh no. Why are you looking at him like this?
“Hey, I should probably call Jay and tell him not to come home until late tomorrow or something.”
Jake nods, lifting his eyes to you and watching you take your phone out. 
“I should call my friend too, he told me to let him know when I get my cherry popped.”
You snort at him with a laugh right as Jay answers the phone, and honestly, you’d rather listen to Jake’s friend than Jay whining about having to spend even more time with his overbearing parents. 
“Hey Jay, don’t come home 'til I call you tomorrow, bye.” You say quickly before hanging up. 
Instantly you’re setting your plate on your table and launching yourself at Jake and his phone. 
“Put him on speaker.”
Jake does just that, laughing at Heeseung’s reaction when he hears you speak rather than his best friend over the line. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
4K notes · View notes
coco-loco-nut · 4 months
Text
Gen Z
pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26
a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two
requests open masterlist
—————
Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.
That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.
You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.
“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.
Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.
“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.
“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.
Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.
“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.
“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.
“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.
“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.
“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.
Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.
Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.
“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.
“No,” Max deadpans.
“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.
“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.
“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.
“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.
“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.
The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.
“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.
“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.
“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.
“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.
“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.
“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.
“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.
“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.
“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.
“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.
“No cap?”
“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.
“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.
“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.
And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.
“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.
“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.
“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.
“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.
“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.
“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.
“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.
“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.
“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.
“I don’t think I need to tell you.”
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