#i stared at her thumb for so long to make sure that i was seeing it correctly bc with kuromi on one hand you'd expect melody on the other

[valeskafics]

"In(toxic)ated" - Rafe Cameron x Reader

a/n: from an anon request for reader who enjoys rafe's toxicity combined w/ rafe and reader making each other jealous requested by @diiickbrainn made girly pop a bit toxic too hehehe 🩷

Summary: If love is supposed to make you crazy, then you and Rafe are definitely doing it right.

Word Count: 3,000

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, jealousy, toxic relationship, physical violence (not against reader), they both high key kinda psycho, dom!rafe fighting dom!reader RIP, reader gets dommed, edging, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, hair pulling, daddy kink

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

By the time Rafe gets to school, he’s already in a pissy mood. He sees you standing at the end of the hallway, chatting away to your best friend, Scarlet, and his younger sister, Sarah, as if you don’t have a care in the world. As if you didn’t just fucking blow him off over text. He runs a hand over his face, trying his best to calm himself, before walking over to you. His bad mood is abated a bit by how fucking good you look today in that uniform skirt, the one he knows you had hemmed so that it could show off those fucking thighs of yours. Shit, he hates getting horny in the morning.

He walks over to stand beside you, giving you a charming grin, “So what’s up with not answering my texts?”

“I was busy,” you reply airily, slamming your locker shut.

“Busy with what? Not with me, that’s for damn sure,” Rafe frowns, Scarlet and Sarah deciding to make themselves scarce, not wanting to be on the frontlines for another one of your fights, “The fuck were you ‘busy’ with?” He demands, using air quotes, which just pisses you off even more, “Too busy to text me back? Be for real.”

“I don’t know, you know who you should text? Elena,” you retort, flipping your hair over your shoulder and turning to walk away, “You two seemed really fucking friendly in chem yesterday.”

He stares at you incredulously, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you in toward him. Rafe grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“You really think I give a shit about Elena? Who am I in love with, Princess? Answer me that.”

“Yourself.”

Rafe clenches his jaw, visibly annoyed at your sassy demeanor this morning, “Don’t be a fuckin’ smart-ass, Princess.”

“Whatever, Rafe,” you roll your eyes, “Can you, like, move? I have to get to econ.”

“Uh, no, sweetheart, I can’t move.” He shakes his head, “You just don’t fuckin’ get it, do you?” His hands move to the hem of your skirt, ghosting along the soft skin of your thigh, “You think all I care about is myself? You think I don’t notice every little thing about you, baby?”

You try turning your face away in annoyance only for him to grip your jaw in his hands and force you to face him again. As much as you hate to admit it, the whole thing is kind of turning you on. You love when he gets bossy like this. You give him a petulant look, wanting to make the moment last a while longer.

“You know how cute you are when you pout?” He coos, almost mockingly, “Makes me think about how pretty your lips look when they’re wrapped around my dick. You know you’re the only one I got eyes for, pretty girl.”

“I don’t like how close she sits to you,” you finally relent and mumble, crossing your arms, “You’re mine.” You gaze up at him, batting your long lashes that frame your doe eyes, making him melt at the sight, “Just don’t talk to her anymore?”

“It’s not like I talk to her for fun, only when we have to do shit for chem. But you’re my princess and I’ll do anything you want,” he chuckles.

You beam up at him, pecking him on the lips, “Thank you, babe.”

“Yeah, yeah, just quit being such a brat,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, pressing a kiss to your forehead as the two of you begin walking toward your classroom.

The crowd in the hallway parts, making way for the self-proclaimed King and Queen of Kildare Academy. And the two of you just soak it in as you walk, your heads held high, hand in hand. The looks of envy on your fellow student’s faces are unmistakable as you pass.

“You love it when I’m a brat.”

Well, he can’t deny that. He does love it.

Rafe comes to walk you to trig, one of the two classes you share along with chem. You take your usual seats at the back of the classroom, Rafe pulling your desk closer to his. You cross your legs, your foot resting against his calf, and lean against his shoulder, waiting for class to begin. Of course, the peaceful moment doesn’t last long, considering Rafe grows irate with jealousy when the kid who sits in front of you, Toby, turns around to smile at you when passing back your quiz.

“The fuck are you smiling at her for, nerd?” Rafe demands.

“Rafe, what the fuck?” You hiss, “What is wrong with you?”

“He was checking you out! And you were letting him!”

“You’re literally insane,” you shake your head, “He smiled at me.”

“No, he smiled at your tits. Why are you fuckin’ defending him? You think he’s hot or something?”

“No, I don’t think he’s hot,” you whisper, trying to remain quiet so as not to hurt Toby’s feelings, “Jesus, Rafe, he’s not my type! What do you think he’s going to do? Calculus on my pussy or something? Be for fucking real.”

Rafe wants to crack a smile at your words, but holds himself back, “Stop talking to him.”

“He does my trig homework. No.”

“Well, he can stop. You’re so smart, baby, smart enough to do it yourself.”

“If I can have someone do it for me,” you say slowly, as if you’re speaking to a small child, “Why would I do it myself?”

Rafe narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. Fuck, he looks good with his shirt sleeves rolled up like that, but you do your best to ignore it, focusing on leafing through your binder to find your homework. He leans in close to you, the smell of his cologne filling your senses. Stupid dick.

“You can do anything yourself. You don’t need a man to do it for you.”

You scoff slightly, “You literally are always telling me ‘don’t worry, Princess, Daddy will take care of that for you’. Make it make sense, Rafe.”

He scowls, grabbing your nose, pinching slightly, ignoring your whines of protest, “That’s different. I’m your boyfriend. I’m supposed to take care of you n’ shit. Now stop arguing with me.”

“Owwwww, Rafe!”

He snickers at the nasally tone of your voice, finally letting go of your nose to ruffle your hair, earning another frown from you, “That’s what you get for talking back to Daddy, Princess.”

Rafe watches with affection as you open your compact and immediately begin fixing your hair, retouching your makeup and lip gloss. He rests his cheek on his palm, content to ignore the teacher lecturing at the front of the classroom and just keep looking at you. Does he find it slightly annoying that you’re not paying attention to him? Yes. More than slightly, really. But he can fix that.

“Hey,” he whispers, nudging you, “Guess what?”

“Hm?”

“I blocked Elena on Insta just now,” he says proudly, waiting for your praise, every bit a puppy looking to get scratched behind the ear by its owner.

“Good job, babe,” you reply, barely giving him a second glance as you continue writing your notes.

Rafe pouts slightly, and if you’d seen it, you might’ve even felt a bit sorry for him, “Can I get a thank you or something? You don’t sound very appreciative.”

You turn to face him, your tone biting, “Thank you, babe, for blocking the bitch whose follow request you shouldn’t have fucking accepted in the first place. Well done.”

Shaking his head, he lets out a huff before giving you a rueful smile, “You’re fuckin’ sassy today, baby. Maybe I’ll just have to punish you for it tonight. Spank that cute little ass and remind you who the boss is around here.” Rafe pauses, glancing around before leaning in, his breath hot against your neck, “I could even do it here at school. Drag you into one of the empty classrooms. Fuck you nice n’ slow till you’re creaming all over my cock and learn not to be so rude to Daddy.”

Though his words make a shiver go up and down your spine, you’re too determined to remain pissed off to let it show, “I’m not being fucking rude,” you hiss, crossing your arms, “God. Do you realize how lucky you are to be dating me? All the guys at this school would kill just for a chance with me. You should know that.”

“And I’d kill them for fuckin’ looking at you,” he replies, “And just so you know? If you were to leave me, which you won’t, I’d have a line of bitches begging to go out with me.”

“Oh, would you?” You smile at him, sickeningly sweet before letting your lips curl back in a sneer, ripping the charm bracelet he gave you for your birthday from your wrist, tossing it in his face, “Then go date one of them!”

Rafe sits there for a moment in complete shock before shaking his head, “Fine? You wanna be a brat? We’re done.”

“Okay,” you shrug, grabbing your backpack and strutting off toward the door to the classroom, “Bye.”

He’s completely frozen for a moment before rushing after you into the hallway, all of your fellow students watching your third breakup so far this school year play out, “Hey! Don’t you walk away from me like that! Get that cute little ass back here!” You ignore him, continuing to walk, going out toward the student parking lot. Rafe manages to grab your hand, turning you to face him, “You’re not walking away from me right now, baby. You’re mine and you’re gonna listen to what I’ve gotta say. Throwing tantrums and breaking up with me over nothing? What’s got you acting so crazy, huh?”

“Oh, so now I’m crazy?” You laugh, glaring up at him. Rafe can’t help but think how adorable you are when you try to talk tough, “Suck my ass, Rafe!”

He watches as you get into your car and drive away, your tires screeching on the asphalt as you lift your middle finger high in the air and leave him in the dust.

Rafe wonders if you’re going to show up to his party tonight or not. This is the longest a breakup between the two of you has lasted, and he’s not sure if you meant it for real this time. He keeps that Chanel charm bracelet in his pocket, standing in a circle with a few of the other seniors, including none other than Elena. Is it petty of him? Yes. Extremely petty. But he knows that’s what he has to do to get your attention.

You walk in, making sure to wear your hottest dress, your strappiest heels, both of which were presents from Rafe of course, your hair pulled back to highlight the immaculate job you’ve done with your makeup. Your dress is black with parts of it cut out to show off your arms, your stomach, your cleavage, and of course, your legs. You walk into Tanneyhill as if you own the place, brushing past Rafe, slamming your shoulder against Elena’s, making her spill her drink. You smirk to yourself, seeing Scarlet waving you over.

Rafe calls after you, “Hey! Where are you going? I was waiting for you!”

You turn toward him, sneering slightly as you give Elena a sidelong glare, “Really? Doesn’t seem like you were waiting around. What happened to only talking to her for class? But whatever,” you give him a false smile, “I don’t own you. You can do whatever you want. We’re not even dating anymore.”

His jaw drops as he watches you saunter off to your friends, Sarah shooting him an awkward smile and a wave. He lets out a hiss of annoyance when he sees one of Scarlet’s friends chatting you up. You’re looking up at him, running your hand along his forearm with those pretty manicured fingers, batting those long lashes and giggling at everything he says. Before Rafe even knows what he’s doing, he’s puffing his chest out, storming over to where your group stands.

“You think flirting with my girlfriend is fucking funny, huh?” Rafe demands, shoving the guy away from you, “You think touching her like that is okay? The fuck is your name, bitch?”

“Babe, stop-” You let out a yelp of surprise as Rafe’s fist goes flying, straight into your new friend’s nose, “Rafe! Oh my God!”

Rafe ignores your squeal of protest, throwing punches, looking ready to kill. Looking like he’s enjoying it. Topper and Kelce try to pull him away, but to no avail. He keeps wailing on the poor guy, no doubt breaking his nose. And you? You just watch, biting your lip to hide the smile that spreads across your face. Rafe knows you love this. When he’s willing to fight for you, when he’s willing to get those knuckles all bruised and bloody to keep you with him, to show everyone who you belong to.

When he’s finally satisfied with the damage he’s done, you walk toward him, gently taking his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, “Let’s go to your room and fix you up, yeah?”

He nods, spitting at his rival before allowing you to lead him away.

Rafe smirks at you as you clean the cuts on his knuckles, his eyes darkened with lust, nostrils flaring slightly, “You do this on purpose. Turns you on when I go rage mode. You little psycho.”

You shrug and giggle as he pulls you into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, “What can I say? You just look so sexy when you’re mad.”

Before you know it, the two of you are locked in a fiery kiss, your teeth clashing as you fight each other for dominance. His hands slide under your dress, groping at your ass, your thighs, any bit of flesh he can get his hands on while you tug at his hair, nails raking along his scalp, smirking as he moans into your mouth. You push Rafe down on the bed, straddling his waist, grinding your hips against him, your lacy panties against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. You moan, moving your hips faster and faster, grinding harder and harder, your fingers twisting in his shirt. Rafe lets out a growl of annoyance and flips the two of you over so that you lay beneath him, his hand reaching for the Chanel ribbon you left in his room the last time you came over, the one that had wrapped the very charm bracelet you threw at him earlier today. Only now? They’re tying your wrists together above your head.

“Such a little fucking brat,” he snarls, “You need Daddy to remind you what happens when you talk back, huh?”

You let out a low moan as he flips you onto your stomach, lifting your dress just enough to land a series of slaps against your ass. You bury your face in his pillow, whining his name, pressing your thighs together, seeking the friction you so desperately crave. But Rafe won’t let you do that. He nudges your thighs apart and tugs your panties down, landing a slap right against your wet folds, making you throw your head back and cry out his name. You struggle against the way he’s tied your hands together, wanting to reach out for him.

But he’s won this battle. He’s in charge right now. You feel him palming at the flesh of your ass, his cock pressed against you as he slowly slides inside, a low groan escaping his lips at the feeling of your pussy squeezing around him. He lands another smack against you, admiring the subtle jiggle of your flesh, the way your body tenses around him, squeezing him so tight. And then, he moves to grab your throat, fucking into you like he hates you. His long, fat cock fucks into you so deep that you’re sure if you were on your back, he’d be pressing down against it, watching you squeal. But right now? He just wants to tug at your hair, choke you, whispering filthy words in your ear.

“This fucking pussy is all mine, Princess,” he growls, each thrust deeper and harsher, your climax quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around him, “You’re mine. You’re all fucking mine and no one can have you except me. Not ever. You’re mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours, Rafe,” you sob, holding onto the pillow for support, “All yours, Daddy. Please, need to come so bad…”

And just as you’re about to, he pulls out of you. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back, lifting one of your knees over his shoulder and fucking into you even deeper. Your eyes roll back, toes curling as he continues to restrict your airflow, vision dancing with dark spots, getting closer and closer and closer until finally? You reach your peak, white hot pleasure shooting through your entire body, your mind barely registering the fact that Rafe has decided to cum inside you, filling your pussy, his eyes dancing with delight as he watches it leak out, his fingers moving quickly to push his cum back in, snickering to himself at the way you whine his name.

Rafe then collapses on the bed beside you, reaching out for his jean pocket. He undoes the ribbon around your hand and places your bracelet on your wrist once again, pressing a kiss to every one of your fingertips.

“I love you,” he says seriously, staring you straight in the eyes, his hand resting on your cheek, “And only you. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, baby. And don’t you ever try to fuckin’ leave me again. Cuz I might just tie you to this bed and keep you here forever.

Your eyes dance with mirth as you reply, “Promise?”

[sweetestdesire]

4:12AM

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader wakes up Luke Hughes to confess her love.

“Hey.” Y/N poked Luke’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble underneath her cheek. “Luke?” She shoved his chest, making him groan as his arms tightened around her. His upper body was bare, and the warm skin against hers felt like home, but it was simply not enough to have her go to sleep. “Luke, wake up. C’mon.” She insisted, and he huffed, cracking an eye open and glaring at her through a squinted and sleep-hazed gaze.

“What?” Oh, he sounded a little tired. Maybe she should’ve let him sleep.

“You awake?” Y/N asked him, anyway.

“I am now.” He mumbled. Well, he was already awake, so she might as well indulge in it now. “Need something, baby?”

“Just missed you is all.” Y/N pouted. Hearing that made him grin despite the way he yawned, all wide and smooth even as he fought the sleep in his eyes. She felt just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.

“Yeah?” Luke chuckled quietly. “I’m right here. You still miss me?”

“Yeah.” Y/N whispered. “I always miss you, even when you’re right here.”

Luke was grinning into her cheek as he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the skin. He couldn’t possibly be mad that she’d waken him up so late. He couldn’t be mad when it was her, and it was him, and it was each other. Sleep could wait, there was always time for that later. But there was never a moment where he wanted to risk counting on later when it came to her.

“What’d you miss about me?” Luke hummed, nibbling on her earlobe as his head buried into her neck.

Y/N shifted, letting his body tuck against hers as her arms wrapped around him. He felt safe like this, somehow. Infinity didn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way her arms did, tight and warm and made just for holding him. “I don’t know.” She murmured. “Everything.”

“Love me that much?” He asked cheekily. “Me sleeping right beside you just isn’t enough?”

“No.” Y/N huffed. “You can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”

Smiling softly, he pressed delicate kisses to her cheeks before connecting her lips, humming into the kiss as his hand rubbed up her spine. “My needy baby.” Luke snickered, rubbing circles into the small of her back with his large palm.

Luke was warm against her, she could feel the rhythm of his heart as it beat against her body. He was pressed so close to her, that not even air could slip through the cracks. Truthfully, she didn’t know why she woke Luke. She didn’t know why she couldn’t sleep, she just knew that she needed him more and more and even more.

“Luke?” Y/N asked quietly, making him hum as his eyes drooped back shut slowly. He must really be tired.

Y/N stared at him fondly, stroking his curls as he sighed happily at the feeling, and then she pressed a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always found hers no matter how long it took. He always came back to her. Always. He never wouldn’t, that much she trusted.

“Got something on your mind, baby?” Luke asked slowly, voice thick with sleep. She giggled, scratching at his scalp as he smiled lightly. He was dozing off and she was watching him, hopelessly endeared.

“I love you.” Y/N whispered. “I need you to know that. I love you so, so much.”

Luke cracked an eye open, staring at her like she was the reason his heart ever started beating, like she was the only one that could ever command it to stop. Every inch of his face was laced with love so gentle, she could see the way it made his skin glow. She loved him. She was sure he loved her. That was all she needed to know it’ll be fine. Everything else was an afterthought, just as long as she had Luke.

“Woke me just to confess your love for me?” Luke gasped. “You’re down bad. Real, real bad. I must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. I do try, you know.” He said cheekily.

Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes as she pinched his cheek. “Be humble, you jerk.” She said exasperatedly. It sounded more like she was in love, too much fondness slipping into her voice that it might make her teeth hurt from how sweet. Luke’s always had a sweet tooth, though. He accepted her love graciously, like it was never too much. In fact, it might just not be enough. He needed more.

“Can’t.” Luke said slowly, yawning again. “You waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”

“This was a mistake.” Y/N scoffed. It was playful, and it was fond. It sounded like deeply falling headfirst.

“Awe, c’mon.” Luke pouted, and then he was brushing his lips against her neck a he clung closer to her, curling into her body with his six-foot-something stature as she pulled the blanket tighter around him. “I love you, too. What was it you said again? Oh, right. So, so much.”

“Good.” Y/N hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “You better.”

“I do.” He chuckled. “Can I sleep now? Or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? Because I can stay up to listen to that, of course.”

“Go to sleep, you idiot.” Y/N scoffed. He grinned, and she pressed one last kiss to his forehead as she counted the soft breaths he took while he fell back asleep. She loved him, and it was all she ever wanted to do.

[yesimwriting]

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

[miyeosin]

miyeon said piano(right hand) melody(self) kuromi(left hand)

[ohsuguru]

sukuna finally, finally gets to see and taste his pretty best friend under him ⁀ ❣︎

˚ʚ minors, ageless and blank blogs dni! ɞ˚

cw: virgin fem! reader, suggested perv! sukuna, cunnilingus, dirty talk, spitting

an: pt. 2 here!

"ryo... stop staring," you whine softly as your fingers thread through his messy pink hair, throat bobbing up and down in nervousness. your best friend had made himself comfortable between your soft thighs, strong and tattooed arms wrapped around them like muscular garter belts, keeping you pried open for him and him only.

what started out as a relatively innocent night, watching movies with ryomen sukuna - your best friend of as long as you can remember - suddenly and somehow ended up with him between your legs, his crimson eyes focused intently on your glistening pussy.

sure, maybe the movie choice got the two of you a bit heated, the two main characters going at it like rabbits, the lewd sounds of squelching filling sukuna's living room. maybe it was the way that sukuna could hear your breath hitch when the male lead went down on the female protagonist.

or maybe it's the way he saw your luscious thighs squeeze together when he finally penetrated her, your body aching for that exact feeling.

and before you know it, the two of you were making out messily to the sounds of heavy moaning from the tv. the pink-haired man swiftly switches it off seeing as he would much rather hear your pretty noises. if he could, he'd inject your whimpers and sighs straight into his bloodstream.

your mind spins with arousal, the tension in the room heady with anticipation as you feel sukuna's warm breath fan against your aching core.

"tch, bossy brat," his gravelly voice breaks you out of your lust-filled stupor, your eyes darting down to meet his ones. "i'll stare for as long as i want to."

his gaze drops from yours and back to the sight before him, his thumb dragging down your slit to collect your honeyed juices as a satisfied hum leaves his throat.

"to think my best friend has been leavin' this pretty thing all to herself," sukuna mumbles to himself, his fingers spreading your pussy lips to let him see more of you. "bossy 'n selfish. ought to be punished."

he watches you, your body clenching and unclenching, clenching and unclenching, that tight little hole almost calling out to him, begging for him to fill it up with his huge and heavy cock.

"and to think i'm the first man to have ever seen this," your best friend spits, the glob of saliva landing straight on your pearl which drags out the sweetest gasp and whimper from you. "aren't i a lucky son of a bitch?"

the rough and calloused pad of his thumb circles that twitching nub on your body, the action causing you to squirm and buck even more, your ankles digging into the muscular planes of his back. your pussy drools onto the couch, your body leaking liquid sugar as he stares at your dribbling hole.

"what a waste," he continues to mutter to himself, another condescending tch leaving his lips. "what would you do without me?"

and before you know it, your best friend clamps his slightly chapped lips against your clit, sucking it harshly into his eager mouth.

"sukuna!" you yelp in response, fingers tugging aggressively into his pink locks which drags out a guttural groan, the vibrations sending pleasurable jolts through your spine.

"watch the hair, woman," he warns you, settling in and hunkering down between your thighs even more. "you're interruptin' my meal. and you know how i am with my food."

sukuna resumes his ministrations, flicking and rolling your clit with his tongue expertly. he writes his name out, the pink muscle spelling out each letter languidly, staking claim on your pussy – his pussy. it's messy and loud, the squelching that fills the room now, a harmonious yet lewd symphony when paired with your whimpers. sukuna slurps up your slick, his tongue darting into your hole to taste you directly from the source.

"so fuckin' sweet," he groans into you, his nose bullying your sensitive bundle of nerves as he dives in almost impossibly deeper, making out so sloppily with your pussy. "sweetest pussy i've ever had."

"ryo– m'gonna–" you whimper out, legs tensing and shivering, ankles digging, back arching. "please, pleasepleaseplease–"

"please what, brat?" sukuna quips back almost immediately, his crimson eyes pinning you down with a sharp gaze as he focuses on your expressions now. "use your words, pretty girl."

you try your best to formulate your wants, your needs through a sukuna-induced haze that has settled in your mind. your eyes are glassy and teary, drool pooling at the sides of your lips as your best friend eats your virgin body out within an inch of your life.

"please make me cum, ryooo," you hiccup, a harsh whine following your words when he slurps your sweetened juices loudly, causing you to flush in embarrassment and pleasure.

"good girl."

and just like that, he doubles down on his actions, dragging out a yelp of his name from your throat as your fingers tug and pull on his hair. it's messy and sloppy and loud, the noises that sukuna is making from between your thighs. the only thing in his mind right now is to make you cum. and hard.

he wanted to be the only one in your mind, tarnishing your innocent body with such pure, unadulterated pleasure that you wouldn't be able to find anyone else after this...

not that he would let his pretty best friend even have the chance to find someone else. not when you taste this sweet.

the bubble that has been brimming at the bottom of your spine finally pops with a candied cry of sukuna's name as a similar groan leaves his lips. and you realise, your name has never sounded more sinful.

he guides you through your orgasm, his tongue languidly coaxing more of your sweetened slick from your pulsing hole until he pulls away.

but before you could sit up to finally take everything in, sukuna drags his thumb through your swollen slit, an overstimulated whine leaving your lips once again. a dark chortle follows, his crimson eyes meeting your glassy ones, his glistening lips pulling up into a cocky smirk as a cocky question falls from them.

"you can give me one more, yeah, pretty?"

[flseur]

꒰ 𐙚 it's so lonely in my mansion — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : you've always gotten whatever you've wanted, and it doesn't stop with the men you're interested in.

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, richgirl!reader, pool boy!gojo, private chef!suguru, ceo!nanami, age gap ( reader is in her early 20s, characters are in their mid 20s to early 30s ), fingering, missionary, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, doggy

౨ৎ note : first multi-chara fic in a bit ! it's a bit shorter than what i usually write i think bc i needed to do a bio and cogsci lectures right after but please enjoy ! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ "o-oh fuck!" you moan out, your little frilly pink bathing suit was thrown somewhere haphazardly and your breasts press against the strong plains of satoru's bare chest.

you were staying at your parent's summer house in the hamptons, it's upkeep being done completely by the hired staff. but one member of them would always catch your attention.

snowy white hair with matching long lashes, bright cerulean eyes, and a body that's hard to take your mind off of.

satoru had recently been hired to take care your olympic-sized pool, and you certainly were not complaining at the free (not really free) show that came with him cleaning it.

every time you knew he was coming over to do some work, you'd be out sunbathing, doing pilates, or "homework" outside. and every time you'd ask him for help with something.

your sweet voice would call him over, pouty lips and big eyes stare up at him and ask him, ever so innocently, "satoruuu... can you help me with this?"

which led to where you were right now. after about 2 weeks of asking him for his help, you finally asked him if he could, "pretty please put sunscreen on my back?"

you were flipped over on your stomach, laying on a lounge chair with your skimpy pink bikini bottoms doing absolutely nothing to cover your ass and you swore you could hear him gulp loudly.

his large hands massaged the lotion into your back, getting lower and lower until he stopped right where the string of your bottoms were.

confused, you whip your head around to see why he stopped before turning back over to face him.

"fuck..." you heard him sigh under his breath before hastily pressing his lips onto yours. "you're such a fucking tease."

satoru wasted no time ripping your swimsuit off, one hand coming up to pinch one of your nipples while the other crept towards your aching heat.

his lithe fingers brush against your folds before his thumb finally presses on your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

satoru continues his ministrations on your pussy until he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, making him stop his movements. "is something wrong?" he asks, concern laced throughout his voice.

"no..." you mumble. "i just want you to fuck me now."

satoru lolls his head backwards and groans, "fuck, baby... you don't know what you do to me. don't know how long i've wanted to fuck you and this pretty pussy."

"then do it." you chide, getting impatient.

hurriedly, satoru removes his black board shorts, his cock springs free. the tip is flushed pink with precum leaking from it.

satoru's hands grab at the fat of your hips, pulling you down the lounge chair and making your ass flush against his his own hips.

you squirm against him, desperate for friction then whimpering when your clit bumps against the head of his dick.

"patient, princess." a small smirk pulls on his pink lips as he watches you pout up at him.

"put it in already." you groan, getting more and more impatient.

and though satoru does like how horny you are for him, he's almost sure that he's more turned on then you are. he swears he's never been this hard before.

he leans down, his arms caging you in as his cock sinks into you. "stop squeezing me... can hardly move." he moans.

"c-can't," you gasp, feeling him stretch your pussy. "you're s'big..."

your ears were ringing and stars blurred your vision, the way he was splitting you open was deliciously sinful.

satoru lets out a low moan before pulling out almost completely, only leaving the tip in before thrusting his full length in.

"oh my god!" you cry out, your manicured fingers wrap around his torso and dig into his pale skin.

his pace was relentless, the feeling of his thick cock dragging inside your walls and his tip continously pressing that gooey spot in you was overwhelming paired with his balls slapping against your ass.

you were on the brink of your orgasm, feeling the build-up in your tummy. "g'nna cum—" your sobs turn into near screams as you feel one of satoru's hands creep down and rub your puffy clit.

"cum for me. cum on my cock, god, baby please cum. c-can feel you squeezing me, oh fuck." he babbles, not entirely sure of what he was saying but he knew one thing, and it was that he was going to make sure he got to fuck you every chance he got before you left for school again.

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ though you have all the money you need to buy new purses, clothes, and sports cars, money simply could not buy you cooking skills. after countless of cooking classes for beginners (and dozens of burnt meals), your parents decided to hire a private chef for you. and that chef was suguru.

he was there to make whatever you wished for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, which you appreciated but ever since he's come into your mansion, you've found yourself craving something... different.

and suguru could tell. each time you first came downstairs in the morning you were always in some silky pyjama set. dainty lace straps of the top would always be falling off of your shoulders where he'd see no bra strap causing his eyes to fall down to your breasts and he would see your pert nipples peeking through.

but this time, you had come downstairs in a tiny little pyjama dress that did not cover your ass at all. suguru had asked you what you wanted for breakfast and you mumbled "pancakes" quietly, still trying to wake up.

you brushed past him to open a top cupboard, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a cup, your dress moving upwards and showcasing your -- oh my god you weren't wearing any panties.

suguru held back a groan at the sight of your bare pussy before muttering a quiet "fuck it" and you felt his large hands grip your hips, flipping you around to face him before he urgently pressed his lips into yours.

soon enough, he has you bare with your ass sitting on the cold marble countertops. black tufts of hair tickle your inner thighs while your mind is overwhelmed with pleasure.

suguru licks a strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit. then one of his hands creeps closer to your heat and a thick finger plunges into you causing you to moan out.

your hands grab at his hair, pulling at the roots and he moans against you. his fingers work wonders in you, each thrust calculated and precise. every press from the digits would hit that sweet spot that made your ears ring.

his mouth was the opposite of his fingers, wrapped around your clit slurping loudly and messily. his moans made you press his face deeper into your cunt, basically riding his face.

"cum on my face, pretty girl..." he looks up at you, alluring eyes looking at your own. "know you've been wanting to, i'll let you, baby.”

you let out a strangled cry and grind quicker against his face, clit bumping against his nose. your cries get higher in pitch until finally the dam breaks and you orgasm all over suguru's face yet he never once stops his ministrations. his mouth continues to work your clit and his fingers are still fucking into you.

you were about to be thrown into another mind-numbing orgasm, tears lining your eyes and you sobbed out in overstimulation until the high was ripped away from you.

"w-what?" you looked up at suguru, confused.

"this time, you're gonna cum on my cock instead," he says before you hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor.

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

❥₊ ⊹ he knew he had an important meeting. knew it was with your father, but here nanami is, balls deep in his competitors daughter, whispering about how much he loves you.

you were bent over his large desk, your head facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. cute little tweed skirt pushed above your hips and your gucci monogrammed fishnet tights had a hole ripped out from the crotch.

when kento had ripped the hole, you gasped, ready to give him an earful of how hard it was for you to get those but you were quickly cut off by feeling his thick cock split you open accompanied by his strained voice saying, "i'll just get you another pair... another dozen if i get to do this to you..."

his hands were grabbing at your ass, while his eyes watched it recoil with each thrust of his hips. your pussy was dragging him in deeper, squeezing him impossibly tighter, it took everything in kento to not cum early, he needed to make sure you came at least twice before he does.

the sinful noise of skin against skin, accompanied by hushed moans permeated the office. each thrust of his cock was deep and impactful, but the pace was still quick. as much as he would love to take his time with you, he can't today.

"love you, baby," he moans. "love you so much, g'nna marry you one day, i swear..." kento rolls his hips, the head of his length pressing that gooey spot in you.

you let out a mewl, freshly manicured nails gripping the mahogany wood of the desk. you fuck your hips back onto him, relishing in the sheer amount of pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.

wanting to see your face, nanami's strong arms reach around your torso and pulls you upward, your back arching. he has one strong hand against your jaw, making your head face him while his other hand slithers down to your sopping pussy.

"k-kiss me..." you struggle between moans. "please kiss me."

and kento obliges. he presses his lips to yours as his hand begins to rub hurried circles to your puffy clit, making you moan into his mouth.

the drag of his thick cock paired with the stimulation of your clit was addicting, you pull apart from the kiss and your eyes roll to the back of your head. kento was overwhelming your senses, he was everywhere you needed him and everywhere you wanted him.

as your impending orgasm catches up to you, your hand grips the wrist of the hand playing with your pussy, the blunt of your nails dig into the skin.

"i-i'm cumming!" you sob, cunt sucking his cock in deeper and coating it as well as his wrist in your arousal. "love you s'much kento!" words slurring, still riding out your orgasm.

"one more time, princess... need you to cum one more time." he groans in your ear, moving downwards to press open-mouth kisses to your neck. his cock still bullying your insides while his lithe fingers rub your little clit relentlessly.

"y-yes!" you gasp, chest heaving.

"that's it... cum for me..." he coos.

as you come down from your second high, your ears ring but as soon as you come to, you realize the ringing wasn't from them. but instead it was from your phone.

[ (1) MISSED CALL FROM : DAD ]

dad: Y/N.

dad: Where the hell are you?!

flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.

[joelscurls]

best kept secret

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

words: 6.7k

summary: In an attempt to keep your relationship secret, Joel agrees to a blind date set up by his best friend / your father. You don't take it well.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pre-outbreak, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is 36), secret relationship, angst, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, semi-public sex, car sex, creampie, some fluff; lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: so sorry it took me almost a month to post something new ffs - life got busy and my inspiration simultaneously disappeared. but we're back, baby! anyway, dbf!joel owns my ass, so here's my rendition of him. as always, ty to my baby @javisashtray for reading this over for me and helping me through the creative process <3

Joel’s bedroom window offers a perfect view of the sunrise; of shy, pink light creeping over treetops and the roof of your dad’s house across the street.

It’s gorgeous — breathtaking, even — maybe because you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve actually seen the crest of morning. You’re far more privy to late nights and sleeping in as long as you can push it,  never been one to be up with the lark, so to speak.

You don’t mind the early wakeup call, though, not when it’s this: Joel’s head tucked between your thighs, his tongue rolling lazily over your clit, your eyes still adjusting to the light as he spreads you open for him.

He’s humming against you, his coarse beard tickling soft skin, thumbs dug into muscle to hold you in place as your back bows reflexively off the mattress. He looks so sweet like this, so eager to please, staring up at you with blown pupils.

“C’mon baby,” he purrs. “Just gimme one before you go.”

They’re the first words he’s said all morning, the first thought that’s necessitated utterance. His voice is hoarse and deep and drips honey-sweet at your core. 

Even so, despite how badly you want to — because you always want Joel’s mouth on you — you’re not sure you can. 

Because you need to get home before Denise next door leaves for her early shift. Before Susan a few houses down takes her dog out for a walk.

Before the neighborhood wakes and somebody sees you leaving Joel Miller’s house. Or worse, before your dad catches you slipping into the house in yesterday’s clothes, your car in the driveway still cold.

But with another experimental flick of Joel’s tongue, you forget all that, a content little sigh slipping past your parted lips, betraying you.

Just one, you tell yourself, and then you’ll head out.

“Fuck, okay — yeah,” you breathe, twisting your fingers into the roots of his curls.

With your permission, he buries his nose in your mound. Licks at you again — with more purpose, this time. One long, drawn out lap followed by another.  

He’s so gentle with you, so careful, caressing your folds with his tongue like they’re made of paper. It’s a dizzying juxtaposition to the way he laid you down last night and fucked you, teeth scraping your neck and cock bruising your cervix.

You’re still sore, your walls tender where he stretched them, but your pussy is drooling nonetheless, surely making a mess of the bedsheets underneath you.

Because you’re insatiable when it comes to Joel. 

For the past few weeks, since the first time you’d found yourself in his bed, you’ve craved him. Regardless of how sated he’s left you each and every time, you’ve needed more. 

It’s dangerous and stupid and undeniably wrong, having a fling with your dad’s best-friend. But you’re finding it difficult to consider the morality of it all when just his tongue makes you come harder than any other man’s cock ever has. 

That tongue, now dipping into your apex, drawing more slick out of you as his thumb finds your swollen clit — It’s overwhelming how good it feels, how good he is at this.

He’s bringing you to the edge languidly, savoring the taste of you, the feel of your silky flesh. It’s like he doesn’t want this to be over, needs to stretch the moment as far as it’ll go, milk every last second before you slip from his grasp.

But it’s going to end soon; it’s inevitable with the way he’s laving your pussy, the crushed velvet of his tongue gliding through your folds so wet and warm. Your orgasm is building, and you’re powerless to stave it off any longer.

“Joel,” you warn, his name a high-pitched whine. 

“Shh, I know babygirl; it’s okay.” 

Two of his fingers hook at your entrance and push in, pacifying you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I got you. Let go for me, sweetheart.”

The soothe of his voice floods your senses like nitrous; renders your body loose and your head foggy. You come apart with a string of shattered breaths, eyes rolled back and fingers twisted into the duvet.

Joel talks you through it: that’s it, pretty girl; so good for me; always so good for me, and though he sounds so far away, his words are the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

The world comes back into view slowly. Air settles in your lungs. And you can’t help but laugh at how fucked-out you feel when you peer down at Joel, his gaze already locked on you, expectantly.

“Okay?” he asks, rubbing at your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you exhale, corners of your lips pulling taut. “More than okay.”

He smiles back at you. Props himself up with hands planted either side of you on the mattress and hovers over your feeble form.

“Good,” he whispers, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead, your nose, your mouth. He licks into you, letting you taste yourself on him — a little sweet, a little bitter — and his lips are so soft that you nearly melt. “Did so good, angel.” 

You want nothing more than to spend all day in this bed with him. Return the favor a few times over. Learn what he looks like in the afternoon sun against the backdrop of navy blue sheets. What he tastes like after his coffee rather than before.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit against his mouth and he frowns, taking one of your hands in his. He presses a kiss to each of your knuckles, one by one, his eyes never straying from yours.

“I don’t want you to either, darlin’. But you can come back tonight, yeah?”

Tonight. Hours away. A whole day between now and then. But it’ll have to do. 

“Tonight,” you repeat. Solidify it. 

You slink home just as the street lights dim.

The house is quiet when you enter, apart from the incessant ticking of the grandmother clock in the living room. It sets off a throbbing in your head, a dull pang right at the front of your skull that you massage with two fingers as you ascend the stairs.

You move cautiously up each step, wincing at every creak of old wood. It must take minutes to reach the second-floor landing, and then you’re tiptoeing past your father’s room, listening for signs of sleep behind the seal of his door. Sure enough, you catch it, a single, drawn-out snore, loud enough that you let your feet fall, shuffling the rest of the way to the bathroom across the hall.

You immediately crank the shower on, climbing in as soon as you see steam. Lathering your skin with citrus-scented body wash, the smell of sex washes off your body and down the drain.

The warm water soothes your sore muscles; bittersweet relief. You stand there until the stream grows icy, stepping out and toweling yourself off just as you hear the familiar blare of your dad’s alarm on the other side of the wall.

By the time you’ve dressed and made your way downstairs, he’s already in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee with his back to you. 

Sink empty, counters borderline sparkling, a coaster tucked under his warm mug — your father is a neat man. He does not take kindly to mess.

God forbid, anybody disrupt the sacred balance of his home; move something and forget to put it back, break something of his that should be kept intact.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he yawns. Turns to face you. “You were up early. Heard the shower going.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you lie.

“Something on your mind?”

Heat blooms across your chest and up your neck. There’s no way he knows — you’ve been far too careful. Still, you’re on edge, and the question lodges itself between your ribs uncomfortably as you frantically search for an answer.

“Uh, n-no,” you stutter. “Just work stuff, I guess.”

He seems to buy it, reaching for the percolator and re-filling his mug with a sigh, “Just gotta give it time. You only just started. Plus, it’s your first job out of school. They don’t expect you to know it all right away.”

It’s good advice, if not misguided. You nod as if you’re absorbing it, taking it straight to heart. As if your mind isn’t preoccupied.

You grab a mug from the cabinet. Fill it with coffee and creamer. Perch yourself at the breakfast table and take a slow, steadying sip.

The caffeine has just about seeped into your bloodstream when-

-there’s a knock at the door.

Your dad shoots you a puzzled look, one which you immediately return. Who could that be, so early on a Wednesday morning?

And when he pushes open the door to reveal none other than Joel, you just about fall out of your chair. Your nails absentmindedly dig into the wood of the table in an attempt to brace yourself.

“Oh, buddy — hey! Come on in,” your dad says, patting him on the back as he steps over the threshold. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

You grasp the handle of your mug like a lifeline. For a fleeting moment, you worry the ceramic will shatter in your hands.

Joel is dressed — blue cotton t-shirt covering his broad back and the deep, red scratches you left there when you dug your nails into skin, your legs hiked over his hips and your face tucked into his chest.

The pair of boxers peeking over the waistband of his jeans are different from the ones you pulled off of him last night, the ones he shimmied back into before you slept cradled in his arms.

He’s a different Joel here, now — your father’s friend, your neighbor — not the man who breaks you down with his tongue or the one who calls you his good girl while you take his entire, throbbing length. 

No, this Joel, standing in your kitchen in the presence of your father, has never betrayed him. Hasn’t tasted his friend’s daughter or felt the tight embrace of her wet, warm cunt around his cock. This Joel is reliable, honest, not one to do harm.

You do not desire this Joel, cannot. You must look at him with apathetic eyes. Must keep the boat of your longing at bay. 

Easier said than done. It’s as if your desire for him is a feral beast, fed by his touch and left starving in its wake. You feel like you’ve just run a marathon, sweat beading at your collar as you not-so-subtly follow the subconscious flex of his hands, the bunching of fabric over his biceps.

His voice bounces off the backsplash, and your fingers tighten around the handle of your mug.

“Yeah, I uh — I went to make myself coffee and realized I was out. Was hopin’ you might have some to spare?”

He can’t be serious. He came over for coffee? He couldn’t get some on the road?

“I’m afraid she took the last of it,” your dad’s eyes point to you, and you ignore the burn of Joel’s gaze when his follow.

“Ahh,” he says. “‘ts okay. I’ll grab some on my way in.” 

His fingers taptaptap on the edge of the countertop, bottom lip tucked between his teeth like there’s something else. Another reason he came here.

And then you spot it — your wallet, dark red leather, poking out the top of Joel’s back pocket. 

You must’ve left it in his room before you hurried home. Somewhere amongst the mess of trinkets and trash on his dresser. You half-remember dropping it there last night as he’d kneeled in front of you and peppered kisses up the length of your leg.

Thankfully, your dad is oblivious as ever, giving Joel the perfect opportunity to inconspicuously slip you your wallet when he turns around and crosses the kitchen, placing his empty mug in the sink. 

Joel sidesteps once, twice, extending his arm and snapping it back as soon as you have the wallet in your grasp.

Your father clears his throat. Spins to find Joel exactly where he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, wrestling a slice of bread out of the bag and dropping it into the toaster, “I gotta set you up with this co-worker of mine, Deb.”

Joel freezes. You watch as the color drains from his face and his large hand anxiously cards through dark curls. You’re pretty sure you freeze too, breath caught somewhere in your throat until your dad turns to you and you remember to exhale. 

“You know Deb, right, honey?” he asks. You mentally flick through the rolodex of your dad’s coworkers. 

There’s Leanne, tall redhead, hosted a potluck a few months back at which you tasted the worst mac & cheese you’ve ever had. And Barbara from accounting, who he got into a heated argument with over who makes the best BBQ in the city. You only remember her name because he hadn’t shut up about how wrong her opinion was for a full week. 

This woman actually thinks the Smoke Shop has got better ribs than Lou’s. I said to her, Barbara, your taste buds must be absolutely torched.

But Deb? You don’t recall a Deb. Still, you’re pretty sure you hate her, just in hearing her name in this context. 

You shake your head, no. 

“Well, I guess you haven’t seen her in a while. She was there that day I brought you into the office.”

“When I was ten?” you retort. 

“Yeah, I guess it was that long ago, huh?”

You shrug. He returns his attention to Joel. “Anyway, Deb – she’s around your age, just got divorced about a year back, and she’s a real nice woman. I think you two would really hit it off.”

“Is that so?” Joel replies. You swear his voice wavers. If your dad notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll like her Joel, I promise. I mean, when’s the last time you went out with a nice lady? Not since – what was her name — Jean? And if things were going well with her, I’d hope you’d tell your old friend.” The toaster pops, and he retrieves his slice of toast. Grabs a butter knife from the utensil drawer.  

“No, I ain’t seeing Jean,” Joel sighs. Flashes you an apologetic glance as your dad slathers his toast in artificial purple jam, blissfully unaware.

“Well, you gotta get back out there!” 

Joel’s gaze rolls to the ceiling. “I don’t know – I’m just not real interested in datin’ right now.”

You exhale, then — a quiet declaration of relief that seems to go unnoticed — unperturbed even when your dad continues his pitch. 

I’ve known this woman for years Joel, I’m telling you, the two of you’d be the perfect match; she’s a looker too, real pretty.

Ew. Tuning him out, you check the clock, find that you only have a few minutes before you need to get going. You stand from the table and make your way toward the sink with your now-empty coffee mug in hand.

Would I ever lead you astray? your dad is asking just as you brush past Joel. His hand, idle by his side, catches the fabric of your blouse and you have to fight to ignore the pinprick of electricity it ignites under your skin.

“No, I know,” Joel grumbles. “I trust your judgment ‘n all, ‘ts just-”

“Will you just give her a chance?”

“Jesus; fine.”

The mug slips from your grip, falls into the sink with a clang.

Your dad glares at you, expression softening only when you gesture to the still-intact ceramic lying on its side in the basin.

He’s quickly distracted, then, jotting a series of numbers down onto a scrap of notebook paper, the blue ink pressed in so hard that it’s beginning to bleed through. 

“Atta boy,” he drawls, sliding it across the counter. Joel pinches it between two fingers, folds the paper without looking at it and stuffs it into his front pocket. 

“Promise you’ll give her a call tonight? I may or may not have already talked you up, and I need to know you’re not gonna make me look bad here.”

Joel has to see you staring at him out of the corner of his eye. He must. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under already. But he’s refusing to meet your gaze, eyes glued to the cabinet directly in front of him as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll call her tonight,” he says, a small, unconvincing smile pulling at the corner of his lips. 

He’s actually agreeing to this?

You need to get out of here before you say something rash.

The anger bubbles in you slowly, then all at once, threatening to boil over as you slip on your shoes and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

Marching toward the door, you offer a half-hearted bye, not bothering to look back before you leave.

The office is already milling with people by the time you stroll in, ten minutes late. 

The conversation between Joel and your dad is still running laps in your head as you sneak past your boss’s door.

It sticks there through the morning and well into the afternoon, your dad’s words an incessant earworm: I think you two would really hit it off.

The thing is — you can’t blame Joel for saying yes to the setup. Not really. Your situation is complicated, messy, bound to end badly.

Maybe he’d be happier with Deb. 

They could take walks together, stroll through the grocery store or down the street  hand-in-hand. Throw dinner parties and shamelessly gush about their relationship to their friends. All without fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Because that’s what this is, you and Joel — it’s wrong. Not like you weren’t already well aware of that. Leave it to some woman you’ve never met to rub it in.

The day passes infuriatingly slow.

The pile of emails in your inbox only grows larger by the time you’re due to clock out, stack of reports on your desk barely touched. You wince when your boss stops by your cubicle on her way out, eager for an update.

“Sorry, Linda; a couple of these were more time-consuming than I’d hoped,” you lie. But you can tell she doesn’t buy it, not one bit, her expression souring as you shuffle through papers.

“I need these done by the end of the week, no matter what.”

“Of course,” you mutter, face heating with embarrassment. “I’ll get them done and on your desk by Friday.”

“Thanks.” Her heels are already clacking on tile when you open your mouth to apologize again, your sorry lost to the ether.

You gather your things and scramble to your feet as soon as she’s out of view, not sticking around to watch your computer power down. By the time you get to your car, Joel’s number is already dialed on your phone.

He picks up after two rings.

“Darlin’ — are you okay?”

It’s admittedly uncharacteristic for you to call him so early. You usually wait until after dark, when you’ve both retreated to your respective bedrooms, away from listening ears.

But this can’t wait. It’s been eating at you all day, digging into your work. If you don’t talk to him about it, you’re going to end up unemployed. You don’t bother to ask if he’s still on the job site, around other people. “You’re going on this date.” It’s not a question. More of an accusation.

“Baby,” he sighs. You try your best to ignore his molasses drawl and the way it seeps into your chest. 

“Why didn’t you say no?” 

“How could I?” he groans. “There’s your dad, askin’ me if I’m seein’ someone, sayin’ he’s already told this lady about me – what am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice comes out a whine. “Make something up. Tell him you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

He laughs, low and breathy on the other end. “Yeah, baby. Think he’d believe that one, f’sure.”

“Fuck,” you huff. “I just— I don’t-“

You want to tell him not to go. To cancel. Fake his own death. Do whatever it takes to get out of this. But you have no right, not really. The two of you aren’t dating. You don’t have any control over what he does or who he sees. And you don’t want that, no. You just want him to choose you.

“I don’t wanna go, darlin’. I really don’t. But if I do this, I think it’ll get him off my back for a while. He won’t have a reason to suspect that I’m foolin’ around with his daughter.”

Fooling around. His phrasing is a metaphorical punch in the gut.

It’s not exactly a lie. You haven’t put a label on this thing, whatever it is. It’s been purely physical: lips slotted to lips, tongues pressed together, swapped sweat and saliva. But hearing it reduced to two words, words with such a casual connotation — as if you haven’t been driven by overwhelming desire — makes your stomach churn.

Joel doesn’t seem to clock it when you go quiet, a cocktail of rage and sorrow sloshing around your insides. “It’s for the best,” he adds, a shot of hard, burning liquor. 

“Yeah,” you say defeatedly. Choke back the pathetic tears that creep up your throat. “For the best.”

He ends the call with the excuse of bad cell reception. Promises to talk to you later. You’re not sure that you believe him.

The phrase fooling around curls up in your head, a wet dog, its fur dripping into the crevices of your rattled brain the entire drive home.

You dodge Joel’s calls for the remainder of the week.

There’s no use in talking to him when you have nothing to say, when you know any words you attempt will be overtaken by tears.

Even so, it doesn’t stop him from trying. His number lights up the screen of your phone at least twice a day.

He leaves voicemails that you do not listen to. You can’t. The last thing you need is his syruppy drawl in your ear. You’ll break; you know you will.

So instead, you delete them. Rid yourself of temptation.

But you still ache for him — a devastating truth. You lumber through the days, bones heavy with hurt. Find yourself kept up at night by thoughts of Joel and the infuriatingly soothing timbre of his voice, the intoxicating callous of his fingertips against your soft skin. 

It’s a lonely thing, yearning for Joel Miller.

On Friday, your father beams at the dinner table. He’s grinning like a child as he stuffs a forkful of rice into his mouth.

“Joel and Deb’s date is tomorrow,” he says. “Think they’ll really hit it off, don’t you?”

You’re dumbfounded for a long moment — can’t believe that this is your life now: being asked about your thoughts on Joel and the ever-elusive Deb as a couple. When it takes too long for you to answer, your father’s fork stills pointedly on his plate, and you sputter.

“Oh! I mean, I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t remember Deb.” You can’t help your condescending tone. Your dad doesn’t seem to catch it anyway. 

“Well,” he says, “I think they’ll be a match. Hoping so, anyway. The man has been such a hermit lately — maybe if he has a lady, he’ll get out more!”

“You sound real excited,” you grumble. Stab four peas on the prongs of your fork.

“It is exciting. I’ve never set anyone up before. And the best part is, the place they’re going to — the Tavern — it’s got rooms you can rent out for wedding receptions. Just imagine if down the line, they got mar-“

“Dad,” you stop him. You think you’ll be physically sick if you let him finish that sentence. “Sorry, I just — I’m really tired, all of a sudden. I think I’m going to head to bed early.”

It’s not a complete lie. You’re emotionally exhausted as a result of the past couple days. Sleep sounds like a much-needed, blissful escape right now.

Your dad doesn’t question you. He just nods. Swipes your plate from in front of you and brings it to the sink along with his.

Of course, you find it impossible to actually drift off that night. Tossing and turning, you battle the glaring urge to get up, slink into the home-office and look up directions to the Tavern. 

Not that you’re planning to go there anytime soon — you’re just curious. That’s all. 

Around midnight, you give up, pad down the hallway and into the room parallel yours. The computer dials up slowly, and you chew your bottom lip as you wait. 

You snatch a piece of paper from the printer and a pen from the #1 Dad mug that sits next to the monitor. Click on the internet icon and type the words into the search bar.

This is definitely a bad idea. Maybe the worst you’ve had in a while.

You jot the address down anyway.

Downtown Austin is buzzing with life. 

Patrons spilling out of bars, tourists striding down the street in their brand new Stetsons – it almost distracts you from the task at hand. 

At just past seven, you’d told your dad you were going out, meeting a friend for drinks. He’d been a bit taken aback, seeing as you’re not very social these days, but he’d seemed happy. Relieved. 

That’s not what you’re doing, of course.

No – in reality, you’re turning into the parking lot attached to the Tavern. It’s packed to the brim with cars, but you still manage to find Joel’s truck, its license plate number burned into the back of your mind after countless mornings of absently reading it as you snuck past.

It’s idle and empty when you inch by, and even though you knew he’d be here, on this date, your heart still sinks. Because maybe a tiny part of you had hoped he’d stand Deb up. 

You should leave. It was stupid to come here in the first place. What are you going to do — storm inside and demand that he leave with you?

You consider it for half a second, groaning when you realize how pitiful you are. Defeated, you swing your car into a spot at the back, facing the building, and shift it into park. You hug the steering wheel dejectedly.

From here, you have a straight-shot view of the restaurant’s entrance, a set of double doors at the side of the building. Groups spill out every so often, every pair that emerges causing your back to arch reflexively.

Joel and Deb are probably discussing their interests right now, bonding over a shared connection with your dad. You can vividly picture the smile likely plastered across his face — the same one you’ve elicited with sweet filth whispered in his ear.

And you’re here, sitting in your running car, watching the door. Your pulse thumps obnoxiously loud in your ears.

Minutes pass like molasses, slow and thick. You watch the clock on the car radio obsessively, betting with yourself on what time they’ll leave. After thirty minutes of nothing, you’re convinced that they’re going to close the place out.

But then the door opens again, and you straighten up, immediately met with the sight of Joel and Deb. 

She’s talking animatedly, eyes widening every few words, blonde hair wafting around her narrow face. It’s undeniable that she’s stunning, even from far away; possesses the kind of beauty you see on magazine covers in line at the grocery store. The jealousy that pools in your gut burns like acetone in an open wound.

She takes his arm as they walk toward the parking lot, and he lets her, despite the rest of his body appearing strangely rigid.

You wonder if he’ll take her home. Lead her to his truck, help her up the step to the passenger seat and sneak a look at her ass under her dress before shutting the door. If they’ll leave her car in the lot for the night, come back to retrieve it in the morning once he’s helped her forget about her loser ex-husband; let the scent of her perfume seep into the bed sheets to cover up yours.

But he doesn’t lead her to his truck. You watch as they unexpectedly turn down a row of cars, disappearing from your view completely, his arm still locked with hers. 

He could still kiss her. Press her against the car. Promise her that he’ll call — and he will, first thing tomorrow. He’s probably just being a real gentleman. Treating her like a woman he might want to marry someday. 

Maybe he knows, after just one date, that she’s his soulmate. He’ll buy the ring in a couple weeks. They’ll be engaged in a month’s time, and he’ll say he just couldn’t wait any longer. 

She’s the one thing I’ve been missing.

You stew in the agonizing unknown for what feels like hours before Joel materializes once again, backside illuminated by headlights as he strides toward his truck.

And then — he stops. You see the exact moment he notices your car in the parking lot, his eyebrows threading together and his hands splaying over his hips.

He’s staring directly through the windshield. At you.

Fuck.

He takes a few slow steps. Stops in front of the hood. Narrows his eyes and flexes his jaw.

With a deep breath, you unlock the doors. Gesture for him to get in the passenger side. 

He immediately rounds the car, prying the door open and climbing inside just as a SUV pulls out the row he and Deb had walked down. 

The door slams when he yanks it closed. The sound echoes through the cab of the car.

“You wanna fuckin’ explain what you’re doin’ here?” he snaps. You’re afraid to look him in the eye, embarrassment and now, anger, spooling hot behind your ears.

You know you’re in the wrong. You shouldn’t have followed him. But does he have to be so hostile?

When your gaze finally meets his, he looks — distraught — jaw clenched and lips set in a straight line. His fingers absently dig into denim-covered thighs.

“I don’t know,” you mumble, “I just wanted to see how you were with her.” And it’s the truth; not one you want to be admitting right now, to him, but it’s the truth nonetheless.

“Doesn’t give you the right to spy on me.”

“So what was I supposed to do? Sit at home and mope while the guy I was seeing is on a date with someone else? Oh no, I’m sorry,” you throw your hands up, form air quotes with your fingers, “the guy I was fooling around with.”

This seems to strike a nerve. His jaw twitches, and his fingers still on his lap.

“It wasn’t like that,” he grits

“No? Isn’t that all this was to you: fooling around?”

There’s a beat. Joel sighs. 

“No — fuck, no. Of course not.”

His expression softens. A crack in solid stone. “I tried callin’ you,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” you admit.

He nods. Another beat.

“Did you kiss her?” you ask.

“No.” He says it with intent, with promise, eyes firmly locked on yours now. 

Your mouth goes dry.

“No?”

“No,” he repeats. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t want to.”

“You don’t want her?” 

“No,” he says flatly, his pupils bulging in the lamplight, black bleeding into the brown of his irises. “I don’t want her.” 

“Why not?” 

He leans forward. His weight presses into the center console and his breath fans your face — warm, tinged with the scent of cheap beer.

“I don’t want her,” he says, voice an octave lower, “because I want you. I thought you knew that?” 

The radio drones between the two of you, some classic rock song you think you recognize flitting through the speaker. Your pulse beats staccato in your throat, off tempo.

“You want me?” you ask, a little breathless, and the next words you say are beyond dumb, beyond reckless, but you say them anyway. “Prove it.”

Joel doesn’t hesitate. He closes the slight distance between you and kisses you, hard, his tongue frantically sliding against yours through parted lips.

It’s sloppy, and desperate, and you feel drunk on the taste of him, on longing laced with carnal need. He’s groaning into your mouth, grabbing your head with both hands, burying his fingers in your hair — as if he can’t get close enough, as if he’ll only be satisfied once he’s swallowed you whole. You’re pretty sure you want him to.

Your hands move frantically to his t-shirt, then, bunch into the fabric and pull. You need to feel the skin underneath, need to rove your hands along his bare chest. He accommodates, tugging the shirt by the back of the collar, lips separating from yours ever-so-briefly to bring it over his head and toss it onto the backseat. 

And then he’s back on you, licking into your mouth again, eliciting a whimper from you when his hand wraps around the side of your throat, just under your jaw. 

Your palms splay across his torso, wander over warm, golden skin. You’ve missed this, god, you’ve missed this — but it’s still not enough. You need to feel more of him. In your mouth, in your hand, in your cunt — you’re not picky. Just need him in whatever way he’ll provide.

“Joel,” you whimper into his mouth, fingers winding around his bicep. 

He pulls back. Peers at you through hooded eyes. “What is it, baby?” he asks through labored breaths. 

“Need you — please.”

He immediately unbuckles your seatbelt. Lowers his seat back and manhandles you onto his lap. You go easily; slot yourself to him with legs folded on either side of his thighs. 

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you grind down into his lap. His cock strains against denim underneath you. He groans when you swivel your hips and brush the heft of it again with your clothed heat.

“You gonna let me fuck you?” he asks into your mouth, his forehead pressed to yours.

Your breath catches. 

You know what he’s really asking: are you going to  let him fuck you here, in the parking lot of a public establishment, where anybody could see?

But you don’t care. In fact, you’re way past caring, the emptiness of your cunt too painful to ignore any longer. Let them watch him take what’s his.

You nod frantically. “Yes,” you pant. “Please.”

Joel nods too, as if he’s accepting his fate. He’s going to fuck his friend’s daughter in the passenger seat of her car. There’s no way around it — not when you’re begging for it. He’s going to give you what you need.

“Okay,” he soothes, “I got you baby.” 

He helps you out of your pants, then; clumsily maneuvers them down and off your legs along with your panties and tosses them aimlessly into the back.

He doesn’t bother to take his jeans off. Lets you unzip them and pop the button open, your nimble fingers making quick work of it. And then you’re pulling his cock out of his boxers, stiff and leaking in your grasp.

You steady yourself with hands on his shoulders just as he begins to pepper placating kisses along your neck. “Go ahead baby,” he whispers into your ear. “Take it; it’s yours.”

His head falls back against the seat as you stroke him a few times and line his cock up with your dripping entrance, his hands clasped around your waist. 

You sink down slowly, savoring every inch of him as he burrows in deeper. He’s so thick, stretching you like it’s the first time again, your walls fluttering as they relax around his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel slurs, fingers digging into your skin impatiently when you still, fully seated on him.

“Gotta move baby — please move.”

He’s so fucking deep, though, his cockhead bumping your cervix, and your entire body feels gelatinous atop him. A cloying sort of heat hangs around your head. You swivel your hips weakly, your forehead falling to rest on his with a heavy sigh.

Joel is happy to take control, bucking up into you so hard you see stars. You can’t suppress the string of moans that spill from your mouth, and Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He’s just as loud, anyway, his broken sounds bleeding into yours, bouncing off glass and leather.

Neither of you can muster an actual word, though, not with him rutting up into you, sheathing himself in your pussy over and over again. He’s relentlessly hitting that spot — the one that has you practically clinging to him for dear life. 

It’s approaching too quickly; he’s going to make you come.

One of your hands flies to the roof of the car in an attempt to brace yourself, flat palm pressing into it so hard you worry it’ll pop. 

Joel takes the opportunity to drag you down in his lap, spearing you on his cock, and the sudden change in angle makes you cry out.

“Oh f— ahh, oh my—“

“That’s it,” he coos, “you got it, babygirl.”

His words tip you over the edge, your entire body locking up as you gush around him. You’re wetting his lap, slick splattering his thighs, and he loves it, his fervid moan telling you so.

His movements begin to falter then, hips stuttering underneath you as he chases his own high.

“Cmon, baby,” you goad, “please fill me up.”

He grunts when he spills inside, his face nestling in your chest, heaving as he works through it and begins to come down. You don’t move, not that Joel would let you, still holding you on his lap like he’s afraid to let you go.

You nuzzle into his embrace as his cock softens inside you.

You stay like that for a while, probably too long given that anybody could easily look into the car and see you straddling him. You don’t have the energy to care.

Eventually, you lift your head from its spot on Joel’s chest. Look up at him with bleary eyes.

“Joel,” you say.

He meets your gaze, face shiny with sweat and his hair a mess. He looks gorgeous like this, you think. The way only you get to see him.

“Yeah?” He grazes along your arm with featherlight fingers. His touch raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“About wanting me.” In truth, you’re not sure you want the answer. But you need to know, definitively, if Joel is yours. You’re done sharing him.

“Oh, baby,” he drawls. “Of course I do. You’re all I want. Do you want me?”

And it’s a stupid question. He has to know that. You’re nodding before he can even finish it. “Yes,” you breathe. “I want you, Joel”

“Then it’s settled. It’s me and you. No more…interlopers.”

You giggle. Reluctantly separate yourself from his body and re-dress. You settle back into the driver’s seat with achy legs.

You’ve never felt more content than you do in this moment.

Still, you’ll have to hide — won’t be able to share the news of your new relationship with friends or coworkers, your dad — and neither will Joel. 

You don’t care much, not as long as he’s yours, but you need to be sure he feels the same.

“Joel,” you stop him as he opens the passenger-side door to get out. He stills with one leg swung out the door.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Are you sure you don’t mind…being a secret? Don’t mind keeping me a secret?”

He looks at you like you have two heads.

He pulls his leg back into the car. Shuts the door and leans over the console again.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he forces your gaze. Makes sure you’re listening.

“I want you — doesn’t matter who knows or doesn’t know. Long as you’re mine.”

Your chest tightens, and your heart squeezes inside your ribcage.

“I’m yours?”

He smiles. Presses a chaste kiss between your eyes, on the tip of your nose, on your lips. The same way he did the other morning. 

It all feels somehow sweeter, now.

“Yeah, angel. You’re mine. My girl.”

end notes: tysm for reading! please consider commenting and/or reblogging if you enjoyed! I've been toying with the idea of turning this into a series so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in hehe.

Also, I hopped on the bandwagon and made a sideblog for notifs! I'll be doing away with a taglist from here on out, so follow @joelscurlsupdates & turn on notifications if you wanna be notified when I post a new fic :-)

tag list: @janaispunk @amanitacowboy @fhatbhabie @frannyzooey @lola8888673

[seattlesellie]

training wheels.

this is an old draft that i wrote a long time ago, about ellie using the strap on you for the first time. ♡‧₊˚

warnings: strap on sex (r!reciving) , first time , praise kink (for both) , soft and loving dom top!ellie , sub bottom!reader , cock grinding , thumb sucking .

──★ we have to make it clear on the fact that ellie was so unbelievably thrilled, yet so incredibly tentative when she first fucked you with her strap on. she’s been waiting for it, waiting to be the one claiming you from inside. she’s had it sitting snuggly in a box tucked below her bed for a while now, and she’d always eye it, have some sort of stare down with the black box. should she? or should she not? she wondered, but when three of her fingers were scissoring inside of you and you muttered that “please, d- deeper” she knew that fuck it — she should.

──★ so expectably, the first words that came out of her quivering lips when she aligned the silicone shaft with your sopping entrance, were “are you sure? i need to know you want this, please”, and you — being so eager yet so timid, only responded with two fervent nods. clearly, it wasn’t enough for ellie, in fact, it wasn’t enough at all, so her voice got very stern all of a sudden. it was that tone she only uses when she’s commanding someone to do something on patrol, when she’s directing someone on where to go, or showing them how to polish a precious weapon. it carries a deepness to it, raspy, it’s strong and forceful, nothing that falls short of intimidating. it's a different side of ellie, one that you don't know quite as well. “use your words, m’not doing this unless you use them”, and when she notices how you thickly gulp, huffing out a shaky breath from your nose, she soothes you with a delicate kiss on your temple. you whine, that kiss makes you want more. as soft as it may be, it makes you buck your hips inwards and let go of a needy high pitched moan. ellie shushes you with her sweet “i know babe, i know” — and you know that she knows, so why won’t she just put it inside?

──★ perhaps it’s the need to affirm herself that you do want this, or maybe it’s this greed she holds and the yearning to hear you say it. she’s looking deep into your blown out eyes, your dark irises, nods her head twice and waits for your words. meanwhile, whilst she waits, she slides her thumb down to caress just above your clit. she’s circling your skin with a touch to soothe, or perhaps signaling you what she’ll do when it’s inside, she'll never neglect your little button. when you look down, she hums. “words, mhm?” she murmurs. you can tell she’s all tensed up, fighting the urge to just slide it inside because she knows she can, she knows you need it by the way your chest heaves up and down, and by the way there’s a small puddle of slick that formed on the flimsy bedsheet below. moreover, she has prepared you for it, first with her skilled tongue, then with her skilled fingers. “want it, i need…” you whisper, voice airy yet cracking. ellie removes her finger from your pelvis, brings it up to your cheek and caresses softly. “need what, pretty girl, huh? need what?”

──★ truthfully, you don’t really know how to call it, she’s never really referenced it by it’s name, just called it a “thing” you “might need” when she realized how eagerly your hole pulls her fingers inside, and squeezes like she might run away if you don’t. so when you see the deep, dark purple shaft (with two distinct veins on the side) you simply giggle out of inexperience, and a tinge of embarrassment. ellie smirks, looking down at you, then grins with her eyebrows arched up in amusement. “ellie… i dunno, uh, how to call it… i mean —“ and she stops you mid sentence, smacking your lips softly with hers. she chuckles, matches your giggle even, a deep blush appearing on the apples of her cheeks because fuck — what if you laugh, what if you don’t like it, or what if you don’t want to use those dirty words she likes calling her silicone buddy by. “uh… shit babe, it’s, well you can call it…” she stammers, now attempting to stifle her laugh. you look up at her and form a tight line with your lips. your chest’s heaving and stifling giggles because fuck it, she’s cute when she’s embarrassed, and how fucking precious is it that you can laugh with her even in a moment like this. you cunt can ache for her and you can still be silly together and giggle like kids because you trust her and she trusts you.

──★ she buries her face in the crook of your neck, groaning yet giggling and nearly falling on top of you. when her hips slightly buck down, in result of her laughs, the silicone shaft grinds itself up against your slippery slit, and you whine her name so loud her giggles stop like she’s been hit on the face with a rock. now, you can hear her harsh breaths in your ear, loud with anticipation and want, lips resting on the pulse of your neck. she realizes you must fucking love the grinding of it all, so she moves her hips back and forth to grind up against you some more. “uh huh, like that?” she murmurs, and to every whimper she responds with a groan like she can feel it, like she can actually feel your greedy wet lips wrapping around her. she nibbles on your earlobe, making you shiver, and breathes deeply before speaking into your ear. “fuuuuu” she gasps and it’s breathless, like she’s trying to form actual words but they only come out as muffled gibberish. she breathes again, gaining her courage. “my cock… say you want my cock”.

──★ it really is lewd, “her cock” — as if it’s hers, attached to her, as if she can feel it. it makes your tummy tie in knots, makes your throat feel clogged, your breaths come out harsher and bordering on wheezing before you murmur those words. when the mushroom like tip bumps up against your clit, it’s oh so delicious and fuck it — you want, as lewd as may be, you need her cock. “i want your cock, ellie, inside” you cry for her, and she nearly growls in your ear. although it’s bordering on perverted now, she asks you a simple “inside where?”, it makes you hiccup against her skin, and you don’t even realize she’s smiling so bright inside the crook of your neck. she understands that if she eggs you on, you will fucking say it, so she repeats with a raspy; “c'mon, where?”

──★ when it becomes crystal clear to you that unless you voice everything out; she won’t give it to you, and you’re practically clenching in and out over nothing — you whisper “need… ellie, i need it in my pussy, please, please, please” and god, she nearly regrets making you say it because she might burst inside her boxers if you keep begging for it like such a needy girl. she takes a moment to think about it, needy, needy, needy, needy for her, for her cock — needy for her to fuck you, needy for her inside and christ sake you’re begging and she didn’t even ask you to. you’re feeding her ego with every plea, with every quivering breath and you don’t even know it. meanwhile, whilst she’s busy thinking about how to pull back on her goddamn nearing on untouched orgasm, she doesn’t even realize your hand is wrapped around her dick and you’re nearly pushing it inside. when she sees it, she nearly goes cross eyed. she grabs your hand and pushes it up, chasing your eyes with hers. “what are you doing, huh?” she drawls, affirming her dominance with an iron grip on your wrist. you’re actually helpless, caught in the act, wiggling your hips and rolling them upwards. “p-please, ellie!” you beg, and the knots inside ellie’s own stomach feel like they’re tightening more and more they might break like glass. she wraps her own hand around the shaft and nearly pushes the tip in. you wince — and to that ellie shushes. “look at me, jus’ look at me”, and how can you not? she looks so adoring, a squiggly smile on her lips when she realizes the tip damn near slipped from how soaked up you are. the actual noise it makes, moist and sticky, makes ellie whimper out your name. “y’hear that?”, she murmurs and of course you can, in fact it makes you embarrassed but she praises you once more, making the embarrassment nothing but a fleeting little feeling. “sounds so good baby, s’all for me?” — all for her.

──★ she pushes the tip inside, no longer gripping your wrist above your head, intently guiding it to hold her wherever you want. you decide on one hand on her bicep, the other one on the back of her neck. there’s a pinching pain inside of your cunt, but it’s so fucking delicious because it’s her thats creating it — that when you wince it comes out as more of a blissful moan and a gasp. she won’t let you suffer, not for one second more, so she slides her hand down to caress your clit as she pushes more inches in. “mhm, ‘s, ‘so good baby… you’re so good, doin’ so good for me, you got this… yeah? i got you” she’s rambling, searching and scanning your face for any sign of pain or regret, and when she catches that you’re smiling, actually smiling with a tear shedding from your eye, she moans so loud you have to seal her lips with yours or else the whole town of jackson might hear.

──★ the more inches she slides inside, the more ellie lets loose of her gritted teeth. her mouth goes slightly agape, “stay open for me, jus’ like that, fuckyou’resogood” she croons, still circling and toying with your puffy clit from below. your thighs are nothing but trembling and shaking like jelly, body, flesh and brain turning into mushy pink and ellie shaped goo, and the fact that she doesn’t stop with her praising and sweet nothings, repeating how good you are, how brave, and tight — makes your heart flutter inside of your chest. when all of it’s length is finally inside of your gummy walls, she lets it sit there for a few faint moments before she begins thrusting. “just for me, got that? just for me, this is mine, all mine” she murmurs more to herself than to you, but you make sure to affirm her nevertheless. “m’yours, please ‘mo— ‘more”, you’re begging for that sharp friction, for that movement, but ellie needs to treasure this moment so she simply looks down. it’s all inside, it’s her cock that’s inside — claiming you, so she marvels, examines and thoroughly looks at your pussy clenching on her dick like it’s a goddamn work of art. if you squeezed down on her fingers like they might run away, the squeeze you have down on her cock — “god damn” she whispers, might need to take a picture and fucking frame it. finally, she catches your pleading gaze. “gonna move now, babe, c— can i move?”, and you whine, because it’s beginning to feel unfair, so she connects her lips with yours and slides her hot tongue inside. she breaks the kiss, grinning like she won the apocalypse lottery. “mhm, gonna move, gonna give you what you want”

──★ at first, she thrusts agonizingly slow like a snail. moves her hips backwards and doesn’t slam it fully inside, lets the tip hang nearly outside of your entrance and then slowly but deliciously slips it in again. you wail, actually wail for her to go deeper, and it clicks in her head when you scratch her back in a way that makes her hiss. she bottoms out fully, moving backwards and then slides inwards again. she won’t stop looking into your goddamn eyes, then stares into your lips that are now “o” shaped. she’s flushed and she’s biting her bottom lip so hard it might draw blood, but then she asks you “t’feels good?” and doesn’t add that cocky “huh?” that she loves to murmur when her fingers are the ones your cunt is hugging, because she actually needs to know. “mhm, good ellie, you’re so good to me” you praise, which sends ellie into a goddamn frenzy — eyelids fluttering and falling heavy as a deep, throaty chuckle escapes from within. “god fuckin’ damn, how did i even…” then she slams it again, which makes both of you gasp. her right thigh shakes, “fuckin’ get so fuckin’ lucky with you?”, she wont stop cussing, slurring up her words and misplacing her “fucks” and her “fucking”s. the louder your moans get, the braver ellie grows, pumping her cock harder now, milking every thrust and every whimper, “who’s f-f fucking you, hm?” she asks, and her thumb neglects your clit but you don’t even need it anymore since she’s giving it to you so good from within. her digit meets your face, caressing the corner of your lip, which makes you take your tongue out and ellie realizes you want it inside as well. you seem to want everything inside, huh? she thinks. her cock, her fingers, her tongue, her goddamn thumb. she complies out of want, curiosity, how slutty would you look sucking on her finger. admittedly, she’s had dreams about it, about you; bent down on your knees sucking on a popsicle in july, sucking a lollipop as she watches from above. she gazes at your cheeks hollow in as she slides her thumb in and out, but you bite it and she gasps — keep it inside cause you’re about to suck it, then she loses it entirely. “you’re fuckin’ gonna make me fuckin’ cum” she whimpers, she says it like she's scared, like she's surprised or confused because heavens how could it be possible?

──★ knowing that you were about to make her cum untouched makes the coil in your stomach nearly snap. you're prideful now, but your pussy feels like it’s quivering so much you simply don't know and can't grasp on how to be cocky about it like she does. another praise escapes your lips, "love your dick s-s- so so much", and ellie growls, she feels depraved and sick, absolutely pussydrunk and on the verge of a heart attack. her rule, however, is that she cannot under any circumstance come before you do, so she speeds up. grabbing both of your cheeks with her hands, she squeezes them together and coos. "you're gonna cum for me" she commands, so your eyebrows furrow together and your eyes close shut. she's dominating you to the verge of tears, so when ellie tells you to cum, you will do as she says. "g, g- gonna cum, it’s, s'-so much" you warn, absolutely breathless, toes curling inside of your socks.

──★ you could call her delusional or crazy, but when you nearly reach your orgasm, she feels your walls hugging her tightly. fortunately for you, ellie is nothing but talkative. it may be odd, because she’s not much of a blabber mouth, but when she’s inside and you’re being fucked out on her strap, talking you through it is all she seems to wanna do. “can f-feel that little pussy hugging me, fuck, gonna give me a big one? pretty girl? give ellie a big one, c’mon”, she’s relentless with it, fast and chasing her own high, not knowing where to goddamn look — your eyes that scream “i love you” or your pussy that’s begging to be filled up some more, or maybe your lips that are covered with drool. she settles however, on your eyes. you nod profusely, “gonna give it to you… mhm” you hiccup, which ellie deems as nothing but so fuckin’ cute, to the point where she wants to break you in half just to hear that “cuteness” some more. when your eyes roll back to the top of your head, cunt filled to the brim — ellie swears something to herself. she’s gonna fuck you every day. if humanly possible, she would have fucked you all the time. so you give it to her, a real big one, one that leaves you paralyzed, not even moaning — sweet sticky mouth fully agape with a choked up scream of her name. she wants to warn you that she’s about to cum too, but you’re too quick to notice. “cum for me, ellie” you beg in that sweet voice of yours and she cums with a huge , lovey-dovey, cumdrunk smile plastered across on her face.

──★ when you’re done, she cleans you up with a wet towel and kisses you everywhere. then — “i picked up a new book and it has a bunch of pics of cool bugs, y’wanna see?”. you’re fucked and in love.

[chxrryhansen]

2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   

-💎

ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.

rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.

rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.

“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.

“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”

you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”

he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.

“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.

“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”

a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.

rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.

“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.

“cum.”

he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”

your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”

rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.

your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.

“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.

he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”

if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”

[norrizzandpia]

You Don’t Even Know What She Looks Like? (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s girlfriend has always been mentioned. Never has the BAU team been shown a photo or given a small rundown of what she looks like. So, when Spencer announces that she’ll be visiting the office to bring him food on a late night, well, you can guess the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: none, very fluffy

Note: aww my first Spencer Reid fic! I hope you all like it <3

The BAU had only ever heard about Y/n. Never did Spencer show pictures of her or give descriptions on her appearance because he wanted to keep the majority of her to himself for as long as he could. Even though she had told him numerous times that showing them pictures and giving them more than the occasional chaotic story was completely fine by her, he never could bring himself to. That was until he started being away a lot more because of a continuous string of cases, making it harder for him to see her outside of the office. The first time she asked to bring him food when he was up late at the office doing paperwork, he declined, rambling about how he didn’t want to have to deal with all the screaming that would go on from the introduction of his girlfriend.

However, the second time she asked, he had had a hard case, one filled with innocent children and one that hurt him the most. As he sat in the chair of his desk, eyes staring at the wall as everyone around him scribbled down words onto paper, he knew he needed to see her. He would’ve left right then and there, but the stack of folders sitting to his left made him completely reject the efficiency of that idea. So, when her name popped up on his phone with a small plea to bring him food, knowing he hadn’t eaten as much as he should with the case, Spencer couldn’t say no.

”Guys,” He said, standing from his chair and turning so he could face the rest of the team.

Everyone’s eyes averted to him. Morgan leaning back in his chair, “What’s up, pretty boy?”

He twiddled his thumbs, “Don’t freak out over what I’m about to tell you, okay?”

At this, Emily and JJ perked up. Penelope, the woman passing by in the hall and overhearing his suspicious sentence, slid into the bullpen.

With everyone’s slow nodding, Spencer broke the news, “My girlfriend is coming in to bring me food.”

”WHAT?” Penelope shouted, completely disregarding his wish for them to be calm. She dropped the folder in her hands, not concerned that classified information lay beneath, and sprinted over to the tall man she knew as her friend.

She shook him, her hands on his shoulders, “SPENCER, ARE YOU MEANING TO TELL ME I’M ABOUT TO MEET YOUR GIRLFRIEND?!”

He giggled, “Yes,”

Morgan gave a glance to Rossi, who was standing against the railing and smirking, before standing from his own chair and making his way over to Penelope, prying her off Spencer, “Okay, babygirl, Spencer asked us to be calm about this.”

She turned to him, eyes widened, “Calm? No way will I be calm about this.”

”I’m with her on this one. Sorry.” Emily admitted, the woman standing next to JJ as the two joined the group.

Spencer rolled his eyes, “Seriously, guys. Don’t scare her away.”

Rossi cocked his head, “Scare her away? If you haven’t already after six months, I’m sure we won’t.”

Spencer frowned just as Penelope yelped, “Is that her?!”

Spencer turned his head to the door of the bullpen, seeing a blonde woman emerge from behind it. He shook his head with a laugh, “Penelope, no. That’s not her. You don’t even know what she looks like.”

Penelope stuck her tongue out at him just as JJ hollered, “That her?”

A random stranger passing by, Spencer shook his head once more.

Morgan joined in, “What about her?”

A man. Morgan pointed to a man. Spencer gave him a glance as Morgan giggled, never getting bored over a good teasing.

Emily tried to guess as well, “Hey! What about her?”

”No! Guys, I will tell you when she’s here.” Spencer said with a slight annoyance. His girlfriend had just texted him she would go to get his food. There was no way she was here yet.

The group got tired after a moment of pointing out random women and all fell back into their paperwork. After about ten minutes, Spencer stood from his desk.

Everyone in the BAU froze.

When he saw their stares, he laughed, “I’m just going to the bathroom. She’s not here yet, but if you stare at her like that when she comes, I swear to God she will run the other way.”

”Hey!” Emily exclaimed, throwing a crumpled up piece of paper at him as he pushed open the door and turned down the hallway.

There was silence for about three minutes seeing as Spencer wasn’t there, watching his mannerisms and determining if Y/n was close or not out the window with him gone.

A creek sounded throughout the floor as the door was pushed open. Y/n stood, with a white plastic bag in her hand, looking out at the people working at their desks. They completely missed the entrance. With no eyes on her, she moved to Spencer’s desk and placed the bag on top. Her eyes glazed over everyone before she cleared her throat, “Um, does anyone know where Spencer is?”

Morgan’s head snapped up as JJ and Emily stopped writing. Rossi’s door swung open and he stepped out forcefully, not graceful in the slightest. As if she was summoned, Penelope flew through the door of the BAU, almost tripping on her heel as she returned from her hibernation in her office.

With all eyes now on her, Y/n blushed slightly. Spencer had mentioned that everyone would be a bit overbearing, but she didn’t know even the smallest thing like their stares would be intimidating.

Penelope moved toward her first, looking at her as if she was an alien, “Are you Y/n?”

Y/n nodded and the entire group erupted into loud overlaps of coos and compliments. Spencer’s girlfriend stood in the midst of them all, being pulled into Penelope’s arms as the colorful woman hugged her tightly. JJ and Emily told her they loved the way she had styled her hair, asking how she had done it, and Morgan interrogated her on how Spencer had managed to “smooth talk” her. Rossi just nodded his head at her and extended his hand, murmuring his name and how nice it was to meet her.

Spencer was walking back from the bathroom, down the hall, when he heard the excited voices. He knew then and there what the situation was, and his feet began to pick up. He was practically running toward the BAU glass door and when he reached it, he yanked it open.

Everyone turned to him, his girlfriend’s face peeking out from behind them all and he immediately softened. The twinkle in her eye, the blush on her face, he could tell she appreciated finally being given the opportunity to meet his chosen family. Spencer wondered why he even waited to introduce her in the first place.

The man made long strides across the office, muscling through the small number of bodies before getting an arm’s length away from Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist.

He turned to everyone, smiling widely as his hand smoothed over her back lovingly, “This is Y/n, my girlfriend. Now, you can pick her out of a crowd.”

[sweets4dolls]

if you do alastor smut, could you whip something up with bunny girl reader, like imagine reader went to the hazbin hotel instead of val for work ~🍖

𝒷𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒽

pairing: alastor + bunny!f!reader

content warnings: smut, blood, mentions of religion, consuming of blood, kinda prey/predator relationship??, dubious consent, not proofread

notes: yayayayayyy alastor! :] ps y'all should most definitely try coke w cherry syrup next time you go out its sooooo gooddddd.

you were lost on the streets, wandering around and sniffling, up until charlie found you and brought you to her hotel, thinking that you would be a perfect fit after seeing your cute and pure soul all lost, looking like a bunny no less.

it didn't take long for you to catch Alastor's attention either - after all, it wasn't like the hotel was receiving people by the masses. so when you came in, cheeks puffed and lips chewed into a raw shade after having cried so much after having lost your way, and you were guided to the bar expected to order some type of alcohol, you didn't - you ordered a coke with cherry syrup.

from that moment alastor had watched husk put the ice into the cup, pour in the coke, and add the cherry syrup, he had kept a watchful eye on you as you played Charlie's games and bonded with the other people at the hotel throughout the day, ultimately pushing him to decide to invite you to dinner.

later into the night, you wandered into the elevator and walked into alastor's room, eyes wide as they wandered around, admiring the scenery and decor.

"sit down, my dear!" he exclaims with his consistent smile as he gestures to the empty seat across from him, watching you as you plop yourself down into it and look at the spread of desserts and meats he had arranged.

"sweets for someone as sweet as you!" he laughs with a radio cackle flowing through his transatlantic accented voice, "why, I wasn't sure if someone as delicate as you could handle something as heavy as raw meat."

"oh, thank you alastor!" you say as smile at him sweetly and your hands move to pick up a bottle of coke - of course. of course that was the thing your weak little wrist would pick up in that adorably meretricious fashion of yours, even before you bothered to peel off your sweater and place it on the back of the chair.

as the night moved on, alastor had you telling him all about your little life back on earth, how pious you had been, how dedicated you had been to the faith, how you just didn't know how you'd ended up here. the more comfortable you got, the more relaxed your posture became and the more you seemed to go on in tangents - not that alastor minded, you were very good entertainment.

"dear, before the night is over, I do want you to do one thing for me," he says, figure now leaning towards you across the table as you nod your head. "mhm, anything," just what he wanted to hear. "it just so happens that I've never had bunny flesh before - would you be so kind as to let me try some?"

your big eyes grow even wider as you hear this, before stuttering out, "oh, you want it to pass me to you? where is it?" nervously before alastor shakes his head, making his way over to you and placing a claw on your shoulder, "no my dear, I meant your flesh" he says, staring down at you like you were prey, "don't fret, I won't take a bite out of you or anything of the sort, ha, no!" he laughs out, "I would just like to sample the goods, if you will."

not wanting to seem rude, you nodded your head yes nervously , ears flopping about as you did - after he fed you dinner, it was the least that you could do, right?

"good girl" he says before placing a hand against your chest, holding you in place as he lowered his head down to the area between you shoulder and neck and pricked your skin open with his teeth, making you yelp as he did, tepid tears glossing your cheeks. as he licked at the wound, a warm claw came up to your cheek, cupping it as a thumb swiped at the tears.

he pulls back, licking smeared blood from his lips as he smiles at you, admiring the way your ears trembled and tail twitched. "would you like a taste?"

just as you part your lips to answer, his mouth finds yours, long tongue licking into your open one. you gasp lightly, making him chuckle as he leans towards you and gently pushes you from the seat to the ground so he can climb on top of you, removing his jacket as he does so.

blushing, you breathe heavily, your little head filled with anticipation and panties full of slick as he crawls on top of you, ripping your panties straight off. "don't worry darling, I just want a taste," he says gently kisses down your neck, lightly nipping and drawing blood as he does.

your body shudders as Alastor's mouth finds your clit, tongue tracing it lightly just before he pushes his fingers into your tight little hole, making you gasp. your hands scrape at the grass, getting dirt under your nails and on your arms as alastor continues to fuck you on his tongue and fingers.

"w-wait, alastor, I'm gonna-" he cuts you off mumbling from beneath your cunt, "I know darling," he states as his lips latch around your clit and suck, knowing just what you need as it sends your thighs shaking and tail twitching as you cum.

"you taste just as sweet as I expect," he says, grinning at you as he licks his fingers before giving you another open-mouthed kiss.

just as you catch your breathe, alastor is hiking your legs over his shoulders and undoing his pants as he presses fleeting kisses over his bite marks, distracting you until he starts rubbing the head of his cock over your sticky slit, slowly pushing it in.

you whimper as alastor coos in your ear, "I know, I know bunny," your eyes roll as he finally starts thrusting, hands in yours. his jaw clenches as you flutter around him, feeling every vein in his cock, making his hips speed up.

still sensitive from just cumming, you squirm beneath him as he hits it hard, getting the sweet spot inside you with each thrust. he ruts into you harshly, bruising your cervix as one of his hands massages your swollen clit.

sensing you getting close, he speeds up his movements until you're releasing on his cock, fucking you gently through your orgasm, cumming inside you a few moments later before giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.

"bunny might be my new favorite flavor of flesh"

[imsilay]

AGOWILT

“unnecessary fear”

NSFW MDNI +18, cw: noncon, Kidnapper!König, fem!reader, smuuutttt.

wc: 1.9k ( it’s too much for me Ü )

help me i am constantly thinking about König AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO STOP IT T-T

cr: rU3Ur (LET ME HAVE HIM OMAAAYYGAAATT)

You looked out of the worlds most tiniest window as König comfortably slept on top of you. Feeling of your soft body underneath his big and broader frame made him feel ‘home’. He wouldn’t exchange anything to have you under him like that. Your arms were sprayed both sides of you, you didn’t wanted to touch him yet here he was covering your entire body like a warm blanket. You felt him hold you a little tighter and move his head towards your neck from your chest. He was probably having a dream, you thought, not really caring how close his head was to your jugular. You didn’t knew what time it was, there was no clock, no window except the small opening on the wall -you hardly called it a window-, there was nothing but him. The massive bedroom was just made for him, no unnecessary items, just a giant bed, a furniture for him to put his gun, a closet and you. What else he’d want? You didn’t notice his face coming dangerously close to your throat when you get lost in your thoughts. He nearly made you jump when his lips brushed against your jugular. And eventually his big hand was around your neck, almost wrapping around it whole and his lips pressed against your most vulnerable part. You didn’t even thought he was awake, you were used to these kind of touches from him in his asleep state. It was like he was sensing how overwhelmed your thoughts became, always. Even in his sleep.

You were the first woman he was letting himself to be vulnerable with, and he’d be damned to let you go. Not when he finally had you within his hands. He knew he was a hard man to deal with. His wishes were unlimited like his needs for you. So he made sure to keep you close, at least whenever he wasn’t deployed. And god he hated deployments. Only if it wasn’t for his adrenaline fulfill and paychecks, he’d be more than happy to stay with his sweet girl, to fuck her until he was satisfied, to hold her tightly afterwards and treat her like the queen she was. Even when he was dreaming, he was dreaming of you. It’d be everything, either fucking you dumb or the time he finally convinced you to wear the ring he got for you. There was no in between. Every single thought of his was lead to you.

You felt him breath in deeply and unconsciously started to run his thumb up and down on your throat. It was some kind of strange routine for him. You doubted that even he was aware of it. When he finally spoke it was nothing but a ‘Morning.’ with his morning voice which never missed to make you feel your stomach tighten. It was 5 AM. You already memorized his routine by now. Never changing since the day he brought you. He finally moved to his side and you thought you were finally free but he didn’t let go. His hand around your throat pulled you closer to his eye level and other wrapped around your waist, sneaking underneath your -his- t-shirt. “Couldn’t sleep, meine kleine?” he purred as he tilted your chin up to get his morning kiss. You didn’t even protested him, you’ve lost your feistiness for long ago. “Did you missed your family? Your friends? Or your little cat?” he chuckled dryly when you didn’t returned his kiss. You weren’t protesting but it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted you to love him as he loved you. In the other hand you were thinking of him nothing but a obsessive psycho. Most of the time you feel scared and the rest, you felt numb. Oh he knew how to push your buttons, he had watched you enough to know all your weaknesses. When you remained silent it only made him want to push you further. It was better to see you stare at him with hatred and anger. His eyes swept over your pretty features, desperately wanting the burning light back into your eyes. “Did you know that your parents almost had a heart attack in your funeral?” and he got what he wanted instantly, your addicting lips trembled and eyes lit up. A sight he would die for. “You’re nothing but a selfish, disgusting and a coward man.” your face twisted with hatred and irritation as you tried to squirm away from his grasp. Yet all your efforts were to not move an inch. His grip was too stronger to let you escape. “That’s what i’m talking about, meine kleine. Keep on hating me, call me disgusting and coward all you want. I only know i’m enough selfish to have you just f’me. Only mine.” Solely his. Yeah, you knew that from the start. All he wanted was to have you for himself. He didn’t even care if it was risky to fake your death and bring you into his house, hidden in the depths of the forests. Even his closest friends had no knowledge about that little hiding place of his. His favorite thing in the morning was to kiss you until you were whining and trying to push him off for some air. Oh how he loved to be all over you. “C’mere.” his hands stilled you so you wouldn’t be able to turn your head away. His lips were on yours in instant. He needed it like he needed to breathe. And he expected you to give your breath to him. If it was possible he’d love to just be able to breathe from your lips. His source of life. “Kiss me back.” he growled against your lips as he pulled your body against his as close as possible. The feeling of your smaller form against him, the power he had over you send shivers down to his spine. Soon he was begging-demanding for you to return his kiss. “Bitte, Maus! Just a kiss. Don’t get all shy now. Let me have it.” his hands were trembling from holding himself back just to not hurt you. Or his hands would grip your waist in a bruising force because he was getting more and more frustrated the more you denied him. There was really no room for you to think. He was stealing your breath only to give you his breath. When you finally captured his bottom lip he groaned into the kiss and his body shuddered. It always got you by surprise to see a man like him to get lost in these little things. He surely was a desperate man. Of course you noticed it, who wouldn’t when he pressed his thumb to your chin to dive into a more open mouthed kiss. His hands may be gentle but his lips were crashing against yours in a bruising kiss. When he captured your tongue to suckle, you let out the sweetest whine, he couldn’t help but press his growing bulge against you for some friction.

One of his leg crept against yours to bend his knee and press his muscly thigh against your clothed cunt. If you could describe him as a sin certainly he’d be the greediness. He knew no limit when it was you. His hunger and need never ending. You tried to tell him to stop but he was too lost in his mission to kiss you breathless to care for your pitiful whimperings. “Can’t get enough.” he mumbled when he finally let you breathe and you felt him leaning in again, his lips chasing yours as you moved your head away. “Stop. König!” his breath hitched in his throat but his gaze never left your kiss-swollen lips. “Scheiße. Say it again. Say my name.” he growled, you were constantly trying to keep the distance but whenever you moved an inch he just grounded his thigh against your dripping cunt. “Will you stop if i say it?” your raised eyebrow was so cute, you thinking that you could make a deal with him was even cuter. “Ja.” he whispered and his gaze dropped to your lips again, just to catch the way you pronounced his name. “König.” you mumbled so quietly it wasn’t even audible for you. “Can’t hear.” his brows furrowed in concentration, his gaze glued to your lips. “König.” your voice unintentionally sounded like a breathy whine when his thigh brushed against your sensitive clit. A deep humm vibrated from his chest with contentment, he got you where he wanted.

“Braves Mädchen. Good fucking girl.” his fingers tangled with your hair as he pulled you into another deep kiss. You could feel him grin against the kiss when you started to grind on his thigh. It fed his ego to have you squirming within his grip. There was nothing like to have you more and more desperate for him, not like he was for you. His desperation was too much for you. You would only want him when he got you all worked up but he was fraught with need. Just from your little touch he could get on his knees and worship your very being. His other hand moved among your bodies and went down, down and down until you felt it tugging at your sweatpants and then eventually throwing them off of the bed with the blankets that was covering you both. His lips were moving to your chin then your neck to bite then again back to your swollen lips. He could never get enough of your sweet taste and he’d hate to miss the opportunity to have you moaning into his lips when his fingers ran up and down on your slit. The sensation of having his fingers brushed against your clit left you moaning shakily. Just against his lips, just as he wanted. “Want me to play with that sweet pussy? Was that why you were being grumpy?” he chuckled lightly and breathless. He was nearly panting at that point but how could he miss the opportunity to get you talk to him. “I- oh my, i didn’t said that!” you snapped but he just kept brushing his fingers against your sensitive clit. He loved the way you looked at him in disbelief, all innocent and ready for him to manipulate. “Your body ‘s more honest, i won’t listen to you now.” a wolfish grin crept across his face as the pad of his finger drew tight circles on your clit. Your whole body shuddered and you instinctively gripped his forearm, his free hand was tangled in your head to make you look into his eyes while he played with you, but you didn’t tried to stop him. Not when he got you so close with just playing with you a little. He absolutely cherished the way your pretty lips got into an ‘o’ shape when his lengthy fingers suddenly entered your tight hole knuckle deep. You little gasp with the clenching of your tight pussy was all he wanted at that point. “That pretty brain of yours always goes dumb when i play with you.” he chuckled deeply, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping cunt and making your legs shake with the pace of it. His fingers curled deliciously in your walls and his length, thick fingers never missed the spots that got you squirming and moaning. And eventually he made you cum, his fingers never slowing its pace and letting you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Pretty girl.” he purred and nuzzled his face into your neck. His fingers finally retreated from your sensitive sex and before you could react he was sucking his fingers, tasting how sweet you were for him. He’d love to go down and taste it from the first place…

(i know this isn’t what you wanted but i tried lmao）

( ; _ ; )/~~~

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i try to reply all of them :>

i’m so tired that i’m about to pass out lmao- bye

(～﹃～)~zZ

i can do a pt.2 if my bbgs wants. but god knows when ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw

-

You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you. 

After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake. 

You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble. 

Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like—you close the video.

You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand. 

“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock. 

“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.

“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”

He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs. 

“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.” 

You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.

Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”

You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back. 

The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.  

While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip. 

It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.

“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”

He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him. 

“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.

“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”

His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area. 

Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”

This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him. 

Maybe you’ve got him all wrong. 

The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”

It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”

It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.

“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.

His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”

Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you. 

All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.

You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream. 

“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you. 

There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad. 

He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”

You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck. 

The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you. 

“Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”

His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin. 

The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head. 

His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”

You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand. 

“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”

The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue. 

You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”

“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?” 

You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”

[byechristopher]

Quiet.

– MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

Author's note: Y'ALL. Shout-out to my Matt girls. This is my first Matt fic ever. I love everything about this fic – I love when women get ready when their crush MIGHT be there, I fucking love petnames and I feel like Matt definitely uses a lot too, I love movie nights and Matt would definitely finger his girl under the covers, I love dom but gentle Matt. I love it. Bye. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long and filthy smut. Minors dni! Semi-public?, fingering, petnames, dom!Matt. Didn't proofread!

"So, can you swing by?" I hear my friend's voice through the phone.

"Absolutely. Heading to the market in a bit, grabbing some beers, and I'll be at your place by 9PM. Sound good?" I reply, rummaging through every drawer to find my wallet.

"Perfect, babes. See you there!" she says. After exchanging greetings, I hang up, sliding my phone into the back pocket of my pants.

Considering Matthew freaking Sturniolo will be there, I'm already dressed with makeup on, not wanting to waste a single second; I aim to be there ASAP.

Not that I'm trying to impress Matt (yes I am), but there's been a thing between us (I refuse to call it a "situationship") since we all started hanging out. I've been part of that friend group for nearly two years now, and from the moment I joined, Matt started being quite flirty. And ever since then, we just casually flirt, make-out, have sex.. very casual.

Now, after a few weeks of not seeing each other (though we talk on the phone almost daily), I want to be my best self. I've done my skincare, enjoyed a three-hour-long bath, styled my hair in loose curls, put on comfy clothes – the whole shebang. If I've done this for nothing, I'll scream. Internally.

None of this matters now, because I am outside my friend's apartment, clutching the paper bag of beers in one hand and my scarf in the other one. I knock on the door, patiently waiting but instead of my friend, of course it's Matt who opens it, dressed in his signature black hoodie, black jeans, his usual chain dangling around his neck and his usual rings decorating his fingers. He looks.. delicious.

"Didn't expect me to open the door." it's more of a statement than a question, so I smile and nod.

"Not really, no." I chuckle, not moving an inch.

"You told me you'd be here by 9. So I'm here." he says with that captivating voice, taking a step closer, slowly pulling the door handle without closing it.

Cupping my cheek, he moves in, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, gently 1smudging my lipgloss before leaning in for a kiss. I release my scarf to grab his free hand, tugging on his fingertips as I reciprocate the kiss.

"You look pretty." he whispers against my lips and I smile.

Before entering, I pause him, rubbing his lips with my thumb to remove my lipgloss from them. Chuckling at his knowing stare, I say, "come on, let's go!" gently pushing him inside.

God help me, he smells amazing.

After greeting everyone and putting the beers inside the fridge, I take off my scarf and my coat, heading to the kitchen again so I can help with the snacks and the beers.

"Guys, I'm sorry in advance but you're probably going to freeze your ass off. Something's wrong with the heating so I'll just give y'all a ton of blankets." our friend apologises but we all brush it off.

"Bitch, we used to hang out in dark alleys in WINTER when we were younger, literally shut up. We can take it." another friend says, rolling her eyes and I laugh. We are all living the same lives, it seems.

After deciding which movie we will watch, with the snacks and the drinks on the table and the blankets ready to provide us with warmth, we were finally ready. I did have my eye on Matt so of course, when he patted the spot next to him on the small settee while looking at me with a smile, I almost ran to make sure I secure my place next to him.

The movie has started already, Matt is sitting next to me and we have two blankets covering us – his hand is on my thigh and my thigh is over his leg. His thumb is rubbing my leg through my pants and it's much more distracting than I could ever imagine. I do make sure to curl up against his side and he smiles, making sure the blankets are covering me properly.

Not even fifteen minutes have passed and I already feel the need to pee; that goddamn wine. I excuse myself and practically run to the bathroom, only to come back a few minutes later to see Matt almost laying on that settee. All the lights are closed but I know he can kind of see my reflection because of the big TV screen, so he can see the question marks all over my face – where the hell am I gonna seat?

He smiles and he pushes the blankets to the side, sitting up a bit and spreading his legs so I can sit in between them.

Well, fuck.

Sitting down in between his legs, I grab his thighs to support myself and make sure my whole back is pressed against him, leaning back to practically lay on his chest. I pull the blankets over us and he pecks the top of my head, almost as if it was a reward.

Seeing where all of this is going, I thank whoever is up there because our friends are quite far from us, all fully facing the TV. Matt quickly wraps his arms around my waist, resting them on my belly and I can feel how cold his hands are even through my shirt. Minutes go by and I can feel Matt playing with my shirt, his cold fingertips already touching my bare skin, raising goosebumps on it. He drags his short fingernails up and down my sides, making me smile because he knows I like that.

His hands slowly drag themselves up, pulling my shirt over my chest, my breasts now free, "love when you're not wearing a bra." he whispers in my ear and I chuckle.

My hands are on his knees and his hands are on my breasts, cupping them and caressing them, pressing small kiss on my neck, "you smell amazing.." he whispers, "do you think you can be quiet for me, pretty?" he pecks the tip of my ear.

"Yes, Matt.." I whisper back, getting comfortable on his chest, still pretending to watch that movie.

His hands are massaging my breasts, rubbing and pinching my nipples with his long fingers, tugging on them every now and then – it is hard to keep quiet but I've done this many times, I'm sure I can handle it.

Sitting with bent knees now, he hums, pressing another rewarding kiss on the top of my head, "keep playing with your tits for me, hm? I'm gonna take care of you." he whispers and I want to moan just by the words he says.

I nod and cup my breasts instead, massaging them gently as I feel his hands moving down to my thighs – he massages them and spreads my legs open gently, placing his legs on my feet to keep my legs in place. I feel his fingertips hooking around the waistband of my pants and panties, gently pulling them down as I slowly raise my hips to make it easier for him.

"You have to be very quiet now, okay?" he says and I immediately nod, desperately needing him to touch me there, "tease your nipples. I want to see you struggling." he chuckles, keeping me close to him.

I gently hit his leg and he can't help but laugh – I keep teasing my nipples, just like he ordered, keeping my eyes to the television even though I can feel his fingers dangerously close to where I need him the most. Finally, one of his fingers gently touch my clit, rubbing in circle motions as his breath fans over my ear together with the softest moans. I can feel him dragging his finger down, only to chuckle at how wet it is down there – I almost whine.

"God, I wanna taste you. You're so wet." he whispers and circles my entrance, collecting my juices and focusing back on my clit.

"Matty.. please.." I whisper back, my hands now leaving my sensitive breasts, grabbing his thighs instead.

"Please what, sweetheart?" he says and gently slaps my pussy, making me gasp softly.

I couldn't speak – all I can think about is his fingers inside of me. But I feel like if I open my mouth now, I won't be able to keep my moans in. I buck my hips, needing to feel more pressure on my clit but he's having none of it. He pushes my hips down and flicks my clit in the softest way possible, which makes me want to cry.

"You know how it goes. Use your words." he uses two other fingers to spread my pussy, making it easier for him to rub my clit with his middle finger.

"Please.. Matty.. I need.. your fingers inside of me.." I beg between shaky breaths, trying to be as quiet as possible.

"See?" he kisses the side of my head, "there's my good girl." he says and just by that, I almost lose it. But then he finally pushes a finger inside of me and I have to cover my mouth with the blankets.

His middle finger pushes in and out of my wetness and I squeeze my eyes shut, really trying not to let out the moans that have been threatening to come out this whole time. His other arm is wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he rubs my clit and fingers me at the same time with his other hand.

"I'm going to add another finger, baby. I need you to keep that pretty mouth closed, yeah?" he warns – the hand that was gripping my waist is now keeping my mouth closed, I nod anyway.

He slowly takes his finger out and instead, he rubs my entrance with two fingers. He gently pushes and I wince softly in his hand, "you can take it, baby, shhh." he whispers and I really need to fucking moan now. He finally pushes both of his fingers inside of me and I want to cry from how good it feels. My nails dig into his thighs and luckily (for him), he's wearing jeans otherwise it would definitely leave a mark.

He starts moving them in and out, slowly, still covering my mouth under the blankets with his other hand as his lips move to my neck. He starts sucking on the skin, licking it and biting it as he pushes his fingers inside till he's knuckles-deep.

"I wish I could kiss you right now – the way you would moan into my mouth trying to kiss back, turns me on." he takes my earlobe in between his lips, gently sucking on it.

His fingers start moving at a much faster pace and I'm sure that if the TV wasn't this loud, everyone would hear the noises my pussy makes from how wet he made me. He curls his fingers inside of me and I close my eyes, really struggling to keep my mouth closed now, "pretty girl. Do you think you can take a third finger?"

I wrap my fingers around his wrist and slowly move his hand away from my mouth, letting him know I have my moans a little bit under control now (not even close), "please, Matt.. I need it.." I whisper, my voice is trembling. Still, I grab his free hand and pull it closer to me, taking a finger into my mouth and I can feel his bulge against my back.

"Darling, don't do that.." he warns, "or I'll have to fuck you in front of everyone." he whispers and bites my neck.

Finally, he's pushing a third finger inside and I really need to cry. He's finger-fucking me at a fast pace, he's being rough but gentle at the same time, it's overwhelming, "touch yourself, baby. And don't stop."

I quickly move my free hand, rubbing my own clit gently as he fucks me with force – I am so close and he knows it, I can feel myself clenching around his fingers.

"Matty.. Matt.. fuck, I'm – please.." I am almost completely under the covers because I can try to keep my moans in, but my expression definitely cannot be hidden.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby? Come on. Come on my fingers." he's so gentle when he speaks but his fingers are merciless, and that contrast is what drives me over the edge.

"That's it, baby.. that's it." he whispers and I finally cum, trembling a little but I try not to make it so obvious.

He takes his fingers out slowly, caressing my legs in order for me to calm down before he brings them close to his mouth, licking them clean, "when this movie is over, you're leaving with me. I'm eating you out in my car."

He drives me crazy.

[sluttsumu]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ CASE OF THE EX

ೃ࿐ feat. gojo satoru

in which: you run into your ex husband just when he realizes he needs you back.

contains: nsfw, smut, exhusband!gojo, dubcon, infidelity, intoxicated sex (alcohol), breeding, gojo calls reader wifey, exhibitionism if you squint. wc: 1.3k

ೃ࿐ ki’s note: this was supposedly to be a drabble and ended up being way longer than expected. i’m also trying out a diff writing style lmk whatcha think!

it’s freezing, as it normally is in december, but this was a different type of cold.

the standing on your ex husband’s porch, four glasses of wine deep, kind of cold. you’ve been standing outside for borderline five minutes, but you know he’s home.

“satoru..” the door creaks open to a very tipsy gojo standing on the other side. he’s quick to pull you in without another word because, “it’s freezing, why are you here this late?”

locking the door behind you he winces, rubbing his eyes trying to remember what day of the week it is. “is it my weekend to have her?”

her being your daughter, satoru’s beloved angel — the only other girl he’s ever loved besides you.

loved. past tense.

he swears he’s still inlove with you but you never believed it. you hated gojo satoru, but that’s just what you wanted yourself to think. he’s been trying to break down this wall of resentment for months, after all it’s been almost a year since you two split.

“she’s at your mothers house, i dropped her off last night.”

gojo could breathe easy knowing his daughter isn’t here, he didn’t want her to him like this; drunk, that is.

you watched as he disappears into the kitchen, taking your coat and shoes off, leaving them in familiar places.

you don’t why you’re here, back in this house, with him. it’s almost as if you were on autopilot directing yourself to a common place with no intention just…there.

he comes back with a bottle in one hand and two crystal glasses in the other, staring blankly before asking again, “why are you here?”

the silence was loud enough, it was actually the most you two have spoken in the past year.

—

“do you miss me?” smirking with the tilt of his head he rests his head in his palm, eyes flickering between you and the full shot in front of you. the two of you playing a variation of truth or drink.

“satoru…don’t do this to me.” you face palm.

“i know you do, but if your ego is too big to admit it then take it.” slender fingers slide the glass your way, you could see your reflection in the liquid, and god, you look guilty.

speaking of looks, if they could kill you’d be a dead woman. the way he looks back at you across the table reminds you of all of the reasons you crave gojo satoru.

you took the shot, quickly too. it burned going down almost lighting your body on fire in a self-sabotaging way. he found pleasure in watching you not admitting the blatant fact.

“you deny it but it’s true,” standing, he downs the contents of his glass mid-sentence, making you both somewhat even in intoxication.

the ‘clink’ of him setting his glass down next to yours echos as he’s now moved from sitting across to standing in front of you.

“ ‘m sure there a lot you miss about me, hmm?” his hands slide between your hair and skin, four out of five digits resting on the nape of your neck, his thumbs brushing against your cheek.

from gojo’s pov he couldn’t have you in a better place, literally in the palm of his hand. as crazy as it sounds he had to do this, he loves you, and love makes you do some…not nice things.

to be fair, manipulation and persuasion are not the same to him. he never told you to come over, but then again he could’ve called you an uber and sent you back home…that would’ve been the ‘right’ thing to do.

unfortunately for you everything that comes to mind in the head of gojo satoru is right.

you nod shyly, listening to each saccharine word that leaves his lips.

“c’mon wifey, it’s been so long” the nickname filled your chest, heavy. suddenly it was impossible to move from where you sat. “i’m seeing someone..” a hand, on his chest as a half-assed attempt to defy him.

—

“s-satoru!” you sound so cute under him, clawing at his sheets. that little confession did something to him, made him want to punish you in the most primal way.

seeing someone? oh that’s not happening, not as long as he’s breathing will you ever be with another man. you’ll always be his pretty, little, obedient wife, who spreads her legs for him any time he pleases.

after all you’re still legally married. gojo refused to sign the divorce papers you sent him and eventually you stopped trying.

you could feel a vibrating pulse within the sheets, it was your phone ringing at a time like this.

“hello?” he answers the phone mid-fuck. “oh well if it isn’t your little boyfriend? i’m in the middle of fucking your girl silly, clearly you haven’t been doing it right..”

his pace increases to a gruelling speed, each thrust clapping against your ass, and it was fucking loud. “fuck! satoru please—! hang uuuuuup.” your begging only fuelled the fire, you needed to know who you belong to and so did your boy toy on the other line.

gojo can’t help but chuckle pridefully, watching you impaled on his cock, but he needed to hear it. no, the sounds of you practically crying while he fucked you wasn’t enough. he wants to hear you beg for him, praise him even. like a god.

“let him hear it wifey ♡︎” he frees a hand by placing the phone next to your head.

“tell him how much,” thrust. “you need your husband’s cock.” thrust. “i fuck so much better than him don’t i ?” thrust. “awe.. you cryin’?”

“need it—! want it satoru! you’re so— hahh! —good!” he was made to torture you like this, fucking you dumb into his mattress while making you spew naughty things for him.

you could feel his speed getting aggressive. beads of sweat falling down his toned tummy to his v-line, the two of you making a sticky mess from being skin to skin. you couldn’t think, mind hazy and full of him.

“fuuuuuck, how about i stuff you full? maybe i should give you another baby, ‘nother reason to be attached to me.” the hypnosis in his voice casts you further under his spell as he grunts sweet nothings into you ear while he pounded your pussy.

“love it,” you growl into his pillows. “i love you satoru! cumming…i’m cumming, please let me cum—” you could only focus on the high washing over your body as your legs begin trembling, muscles spazzing at your arousal tipping over the edge.

your desperation is music to his ears, his lust turning uncontrollable as he assaults your cunt fucking you hard, and deep. at this rate he’ll get you pregnant.

“cum for me, cum with me— shit!” he drawls, gritted through his teeth, bottoming out in his favourite fucking pussy. this feeling will never get old, fucking you will never not be his favourite pastime.

meanwhile the overstimulation teasing your cunt made you that much wetter, and tighter for him. you couldn’t take it anymore, you need it — need his seed sopping out of you. you didn’t even care about your boyfriend who was still listening to this live porn. gojo’s rewired that wondering brain of yours. back to him, in this house, on his bed, fucking his cock.

you might just even take him back.

his pleasure builds as he pumps into your cunt a few more times, before emptying inside of you. you could feel it, cunt full of him. his body collapses on top of yours, fingers intertwining on your hands while you both catch your breath.

“she’s not coming home.” the line cuts.

© SLUTTSUMU 2023 - please refrain from copying, reposting or translating.

[coldfanbou]

Releasing Tension

Here's the fic for the week. Julie gets to have a lot of fun tonight.

Length 2.1K

Julie X mreader

“I hope you’re ready,” Julie said, swinging her hips as she walked. The sultry woman convinced you to return to her hotel room after a few drinks together. She spun around, walking backward with her hands behind her back, smiling at you as she leaned forward and gave you a look at her cleavage. “You have no idea how pent-up I am. I really need this,” She said as her eyes drifted downward.

You watched as Julie lowered her jacket to her elbows, revealing more of her dress.”I’ll try not to disappoint you.” 

Julie reaches out, grabs your belt, and begins to unbuckle it. “I sure hope so. I’m going to be riding you all night. Let’s get inside.”  She pulls you along by your belt, opening the door quickly and ushering you inside before closing the door behind her. Julie kicked her boots off before slipping her jacket off in the doorway, revealing her simple back dress. Its short length showed off her toned legs; its loose staps gave you another view of her cleavage when she leaned over. “Should I just slip this thing off, or do you want to tear it off me?” Julie said, her thumb under one of her straps, moving it off her shoulder. She steps toward you slowly, playing with her hair as she leans against you. “Well?”

“I want to see it slip off you.”

Julie gives you a sly smile and takes a single step back, slipping her thumb under her other strap; she moves it off her shoulder and lets her dress slip down to her waist. Her perky breasts jiggle as Julie rocks from one foot to the other. Her light brown nipples were stiff already as she stared at you. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to touch me?” As you step toward her, Julie wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a kiss. The slight scent of alcohol hits you when Julie moans as you cup her tits. “That’s more like it,” She groans in a low voice. She raises one of her legs, rubbing it against the outside of yours. “Help me get this off before we take this to the bed.”  Your hands move down her toned stomach, lingering momentarily before finding her dress and pulling it down. Julie’s wide hips catch the dress, forcing you to press your hands against her to get it off. 

As your lips went in for another kiss to take in her body, Julie’s inner thigh was slick with her nectar. She pressed them together and rubbed them back and forth before you spread her legs apart and carried her to the bed. You could feel the ends of her lips curl upward, her smile growing more prominent as she imagined how long the night would be. As you place her on the edge of the bed, Julie raises her foot, stopping you from getting closer. “Not so fast, mister. We need to get you undressed, too.” Julie’s delicate hands reach for your jeans, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper before pulling them down. With a significant bulge, Julie beams a smile at you as her palm runs up and down the shaft. She bulges down your boxers and frees your cock, watching it with glee as it springs out. You quickly throw your shirt off and watch as Julie changes position, lying on her stomach as she grabs your cock and slowly strokes it. “Look at this little guy,” She says, her hands eagerly pumping your shaft. “I shouldn’t say that. It’s going to be more than a handful to deal with.” She says, smiling at you.

You groan her name as she continues to stroke your cock, “Shit, how are you so good?” 

“You think this feels good? Just you wait.”Julie replies. She leans in, tilting her head slightly as she kisses the tip. You twitch in her hand, making her giggle. Julie scooches closer, turning slightly as she kisses your shaft, her hand still moving along your base as her other one cups your balls. She gives you light squeezes as her tongue runs along the side, moving back toward the head. You throw your head back and moan, enjoying her soft touches. 

You watch her kick her feet softly as she spreads her lips and swallows the head of your cock. Julie’s tongue gingerly moves around the edge of the head, sending shivers down your spine. She slowly wraps her lips around the head, trapping it inside the warm and wet cavern. Her tongue ran over the tip as she gave your balls light squeezes with one hand, and the other moved along your shaft. She groaned, enjoying herself as she coated your cock in saliva. Julie’s eyes occasionally shot up, checking your reaction. Pleased with herself, Julie began to bob her head, her deft tongue rubbing the underside of your cock. You rested one hand on her head, guiding her as she took another inch inside. You felt the warmth of her mouth grow hotter as you hit the back of her throat. Julie retreated slowly, sucking on the head before audibly popping it out of her mouth. A thin string of saliva kept her tied to your cock; she chuckled and gave the tip of your cock a sloppy kiss, her lips pressed roughly against it. “Mwah, nice and hard,” She commented, her hand still stroking your shaft, covering the rest of it in saliva. “I don’t know about you, but I want to move on.” 

Julie shifted onto all fours before lying on her back; her knees bent as she spread her legs apart. She moved one hand down her stomach, eventually reaching her lower lips. She spread them apart slowly, “Fuck me,” she commanded. You weren’t going to go against her orders and crawl over her with your cock in hand. Aligning it with her cunt, you push the head in first. You both moan. Julie’s walls clamped down tightly, and you felt the heels of her feet press against your back. She wrapped her arms around your neck and lifted her upper body off the mattress. “Don’t be shy. I want it all inside me, fuck me up.” Her words excited you, and you rammed the rest of your length inside without a second thought. You tore through Julie, earning yourself a loud cry of pleasure as she threw her head back. Her legs fully wrap around your waist, and her arms tighten around your neck.

You stay buried inside Julie, her walls squeezing you before relaxing. You begin to move slowly, feeling your cock rub against every nook and cranny of her cunt before rushing back into her. Each thrust makes Julie moan; she felt stretched out by your cock and loved every second of it. She pressed her lips against yours, stifling her own moans as you continued to stir her insides. Julie used her legs to push you deeper inside, sending you crashing into her womb. Her brain was melting away from the pleasure, the only thing on it being your cock. “M-more mmm cock,” She mumbled as you pressed your lips against hers. 

“You’re so tight,” You groan, struggling to keep your pace as you feel your orgasm coming. Julie’s thighs squished your sides as they tensed up. Julie felt herself about to blow. She let go of you, resting against the bed and gripping the sheets. She gritted her teeth as loud cries flowed from her. With the slight separation given to you, you played with her tits, fondling them and watching them bounce from every thrust. 

Julie could feel your cock throbbing inside her, about to cum. Before you could utter a word, she gave you an order, “I’m on the pill, cum inside me. Cum in my pussy.” You buried your cock inside of Julie and unloaded, pouring your cum into the idol, feeling her walls squeeze more cum out of you as she reached her climax. Julie's low moan filled the room as she arched her back. “Shit, there’s so much.” She said, her chest heaving. Her leg lock loosened around you, eventually falling away entirely as you pulled out your softened cock. Julie looked down, her fingers gathering cum as it poured out of her. She brought her fingers up to her face, spreading them apart and watching as your cum spread along her hand. She gave it a taste, licking her fingers clean and groaning. “I want a little more,” Julie huffs as she moves to the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the end. She purses her lips, “You felt my throat earlier; I want you to use it this time,” She opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out as she waits. You get in close, accidentally smacking her cheek with your cock before she’s able to wrap her lips around the tip.

Your cock was covered in cum from your orgasm, making the experience all the better, for Julie got an early taste. She relished in the taste, enjoying the salty liquid as she lapped it up. Julie feels your cock getting hard again, expanding in her throat as you push it further inside. Turned on from feeling it so far inside her, she began to play with herself. The idol squeezed one of her tits roughly while her other hand teased her clit. Her hums only made the deepthroat feel better. You didn’t notice yourself pushing the entire length of your cock inside her mouth. Julie’s fingers moved faster, flicking her clit as she felt your cock quickly throbbing inside her. She was excited, thinking about the cum you were going to dump into her stomach at any moment.

“I’m gonna cum, Julie,” You groan; you continue to thrust into her throat, feeling the warm tightness around your cock. You watch her tits jiggle with your thrusts and reach for her nipple, pinching the hard nub. You watch as Julie’s hand furiously moves in and out of her cunt and slam your hips forward, driving your cock into her as you shoot your cum into her stomach. You hunch over Julie, groaning as you feel her tongue swirl around your cock. As you pull out, Julie’s lips wrap tightly around you, scraping every ounce of cum from your cock. You jerk yourself off, getting one last spurt of cum out. It lands upon Julie’s face, forcing her eyes shut. Once it was over, Julie rolled onto her stomach, breathing heavily as she wiped the semen off her face.

“Oh my god, you have no idea how badly I needed that.” Julie licks her lips, satisfied with all the cum you gave her. Patting the spot next to her, Julie says, “You can still go, right?”

“I can keep going,”

A massive grin forms on her, “Great. Lay down. I’ll take it from here.” You lay down on the bed, glad you’ll rest while Julie does all the work. Stroking your cock, Julie works to get you hard again. Feeling extra sensitive, you groan every time her palm rubs against the head. Once at full mast, Julie crawls over you, squatting over you with her legs spread wide. Julie spreads her lips, dripping your cum back onto your cock before rubbing the head of your cock against her folds. The idol before you coos as she sinks onto your cock, every inch slowly going inside her smoothly. Julie leans forward, nearly falling if it wasn’t for you holding her up. “Shit, sorry. It just feels so good,” She groans. Julie intertwines her fingers with yours, using you as support as she lifts herself along your shaft before slamming herself back down. You both cry out in pleasure and know that neither one of you is going to last very long. Every bounce Julie makes brings you closer to your third orgasm; her walls are tightly wrapped around you, squeezing you as she goes into her deep squat. 

You can only watch as her cunt swallows your cock, groaning from the pleasure as her insides rub the head of your cock incessantly. Every time she moved along your shaft, more cum would escape her cunt, coating both of you as your bodies met. You felt Julie’s grip get tighter; she squeezed your hands as her walls clamped down around your cock. “I’m- I’m gonna cum,” She mumbled, struggling to stay balanced. Julie crumbled from her squatting position, straddling you like a cowgirl and grinding against you as she tried to hold off on her orgasm. You let go of her hands, moving your own to her waist and holding her in place as you impaled her with your cock. Julie threw her head back, whining as she climaxed. You came with her, your cum pouring into her as she collapsed on your chest. “It’s so warm, I’m so warm.” She said softly, grinding on your cock. “We’ll go again after a small rest.”