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atticrissfinch · 3 months

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I’ve Got My Red Dress on Tonight | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)

Part 5 of Meet Me in the Back

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When your Valentine's Day date doesn't show, you decide there's one person who would be happy to see you. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), drug use (marijuana), daddy!kink, fingering (vaginal and....anal!!!), v brief foot fetish, squirting, praise!kink and degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), unprotected PIV, creampie, some ~touching in public, smoking, taking pictures mid-coitus, really nasty gross fluff i'm sorry about it. lemme know if i forgot something i gotta go fast i wanna post word count: ~7.8k jesus christ | ao3a/n: much thanks for the anon who suggested a V Day fic for these two <3 Thank you to my love Iris @papipascalispunk for making sure my commas and em-dashes are where they're supposed to be. ALSO. Chloe, resident sleazy!joel expert, wrote a little drabble inspired by Joel in this fic!! Please check it out after you've read this chapter! The Sighting by ChloeAngelic <3 Divider by @saradika-graphics ❤️ Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

The dress feels ungodly tight, but you had figured it would be worth it.

It wasn’t.

In fact, the dress hasn’t seen anything but the inside of your apartment.

Your hair was done just the way you love it, you pulled out all the stops with your makeup, and you had squeezed yourself into this glittery, red mini dress that makes your tits look stunning, which you bought just for this night.

You’d been out with Brent twice before, and even though you’d thought it was a little early in your “relationship” for a Valentine’s Day dinner, when he asked to “make it a special night” for you, you agreed. The last thing you wanted was to be alone on this godforsaken holiday.

Well, at least he’d had the courtesy to give you twenty minutes' notice that he was bailing on you instead of just leaving you waiting on your couch wondering if he would come at all.

Now you’re just waiting on your couch, wondering what the fuck to do.

You open your messages on your phone and swipe away from your broken plans. The next thread under it is Joel’s.

Joel: i swear 2 god i saw one tho

You: you did not see a UFO, Joel

Joel: yes i did!!! it was way the hell up there flashin its lights!!! saw it clear as day!!!

You: that was most definitely just a normal plane, old man. Turn off Ancient Aliens once in a while.

Joel: ur gonna be real sorry wen im FAMOUSS for findin the first REAL aliens 👽 🛸

You: I’m sure I will be

Joel: u can make it up 2 me by flashin me them headlights of urs again 😈

Joel: honk honk 😈

You: Bye 🙄 😒

Joel: 👅

A smile tugs at your lips as you read through the conversation from earlier this evening. You hadn’t told him about the date. Or dates, rather. If this one had gone well, you might have. If things wound up back at your place and actually moved a step toward something.

You deflate against the back of your couch. Because there’s nothing now. Just you, your suffocating dress, and your stupid heels. The vicious claws of insecurity start to scrape at the back of your neck.

Brent didn’t want you. You weren’t good enough. You’re not good enough for anyone.

Tears prick at your eyes and you dab them with the side of your finger to keep your mascara intact, following it up with some deep breaths and your head tipping back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull.

That’s not true, you recite to yourself. You know there’s always someone who’s happy to see you.

Another deep breath.

Someone who would be dead on his feet seeing you dressed like this.

On your next breath you’re already shimmying out of your panties and checking the mirror to make sure no one is getting a free show who doesn’t deserve it.

You scurry as quickly as you can to your car, shivering so fiercely it feels like your goddamn pussy has goosebumps from being exposed like this. You weather through it, chanting in your head some quote you heard about how hoes never get cold.

When you get to the gas station, you scamper from your car into the store, shuddering when the heat hits you once you open the door. You tug your dress down and glance around, not immediately seeing Joel anywhere. He’s not at his usual spot, parked behind the counter. You venture further into the shop, peering down the aisle.

“Evening,” someone says just behind you, and you jump, whirling around.

It’s not Joel. It’s some other schmuck with a scraggly, graying ginger beard and a crooked, lumpy nose. His smile is friendly enough, but it lacks that trademark sleaziness that typically oozes from the person you’re accustomed to seeing man the store. His name tag reads Walter.

“Evening,” you squeak out, cringing and clearing your throat when your voice spills out much higher pitched than you expected. You tug on your dress again.

“Help you with anything?” he asks, and you’re relieved to find his gaze holding steady on yours, not drifting elsewhere despite the swathes of skin on display in your chosen outfit.

Joel wouldn’t even be able to begin to know where to fucking look, your mind provides, and you find yourself trying to come to terms with the apparent fact that… Joel isn’t here.

He isn’t here – on Valentine’s Day.

“I’m, um…I’m actually looking for Joel?”

Walter’s eyebrows shoot up, then fall into a furrow. “He been hiring on the clock again? Goddamn it, I told him not to fucking do that anymore,” he mutters, shaking his head down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Miss, I’m real sorry, I know you’re doing honest work and all, but I can’t have that shit here.”

It takes a moment for you to fully register what he’s saying, but when you do, your eyes go wide. “Oh, sir, I’m not— you’ve got— no, no. I’m just a friend of Joel’s.”

“I'm sure you are, Miss, but I—”

“I’m not a prostitute,” you insist under your breath, glancing around to ensure no one is in the vicinity. “I swear to god, I just had a date tonight, or I was going on a date, and then I wasn’t, and— I swear, I’m just dressed for a date. A normal date.”

You’re not sure your frantic insistence has Walter very reassured, but he just nods, a skeptical look in his eye. “Well, in any case, he’s not here. He’s got the night off.”

“Got it. Okay, thank you,” you say, wincing a little at the palpable awkwardness. You rush past him to leave, your heels clicking loudly, and apparently, whorishly, across the floor.

“Stay safe out there, honey,” Walter calls after you.

Your car is blessedly still harboring warmth as you clamor back inside and start the engine. You catch your breath and mull over what to do next.

He wasn’t there. On Valentine’s Day. You feel like that can only mean one thing. Something squiggles and squirms in your belly at that thought.

You have one more shot, and you take it, speeding off toward the outskirts, hoping you can go fast enough to drown out the weird feeling in your stomach.

—

His truck is there. And it’s alone in the gravel next to his trailer.

You see light through his weeping blinds, a warm yellow glow accompanied by periodically flickering colors that you assume is his television. A good sign, you think.

The wind whips around your bare legs as you climb his steps carefully in your stilettos, staring up to admire the waxing gibbous moon shining absurdly bright against the speckled black sky. You lean against the dilapidated railing of his tiny porch in front of his door. The sky is never this bright where you live. It fills you with a sort of warmth. Comfort. You hear the distorted sound of voices on his television and the faint aroma of weed seeping out the frame of his door.

You don’t hear anyone else.

So you knock.

You hear a nasty cough from the other side of the door and the volume of the TV ticking down. The door swings open and you’re hit in the face two-fold—with a wall of smoke and a wall of bare-chested man.

Joel blinks and squints reddened eyes as he blocks the entire doorway, billows of haze attempting to escape around him to the fresh air. Then recognition glows in his eyes and his gaze drifts. Up and down. And his jaw goddamn drops.

Your arms clasp at your back as you rock on your teetering heels.

“Hi.”

Joel crams his eyes shut again, shaking his head like a dog like he’s trying to clear a fog over his vision. But he opens them again, and you’re still standing there, and he expels a long, narrow breath through his lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ. This is heaven, right? Or— jesus— fuckin’…hell, in that devil of a dress,” he shakes his head again, slower, more like disbelief, and a smile pushes at your mouth. “You just showin’ up on my doorstep? Dressed like that? I must be fuckin’ dead.”

You temper your broadening grin, reining in your utter delight at receiving exactly the reaction you were craving. “So, you’re saying me, weed, and…” you crane your head to peek at his television, “And SVU is your idea of heaven?”

“Damn near fuckin’ close,” he says, a reverence about his tone as he drinks you in gratuitously. He pulls himself out of his stupor and hurriedly gestures inside. “Jesus, sweetheart, come in. Gotta be freezin’ your gorgeous tits off out there.”

His hand falls to the small of your back as he ushers you inside, the sweet tang of his evening stress relief burning stronger in your nostrils in his living room.

Joel shuts the door behind you both and lets out a sharp whistle. “Sweet Mary Mother’a God. That fuckin’ ass,” he mutters under his breath.

You peer your head around your shoulder to take in the sight of him, just as he does you. One hand frozen against the door, soft belly poking out over the hem of his sweatpants, dark hair sweeping over the curve of it and up his chest. And, of course, that fucking tent at his crotch, growing larger by the second.

“Be still my fuckin’ heart – the hell are you doin’ here in that, darlin’ girl?”

Your cheeks begin to heat.

He’s never said it like that. Darlin’ girl. It’s usually some iteration of one or the other, but never together.

Darlin’ girl.

You fill in a blank for yourself — unintentionally, but so fucking naturally.

My darlin’ girl.

Where your stomach was squirming, it now flutters. You swallow it down. Pull your mind back. You just want to feel wanted. That’s why you’re here.

Then he’s at your back, pressing all of him against you. The softness of his torso, the scratch of his facial hair, the hardness of his cock. Planting feathery kisses along your neck with teasing bites.

A giggle bubbles up your chest and you free up more of your neck for him to devour. “I’m here to see the stupid aliens, you dumbass.”

His lips pause on your neck. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles against your skin.

“Yeah,” you laugh lightly, “Where’s your flying saucer? Your flashing lights?”

Joel’s hands sweep up your sides and cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them tight in his grip. “Right fuckin’ here, baby,” he growls into the underside of your jaw, “Let me turn ‘em on for ya.”

You throw your head back with another easy laugh and you feel the shape of his smile against your cheek as he massages your covered tits.

“Mmmm,” he hums, rocking his hips against your ass, his massive length nestling and sliding between your cheeks over your dress. “Come smoke a bowl with me. ‘N then tell me why you’re dressed like living sin in my living room.”

“How about you just fuck me,” you sigh, tangling your fingers into Joel’s hair and holding his lips to your neck.

“‘Cause I wanna stare at you in this dress a little while longer ‘fore I rip it to fuckin’ shreds,” he says, his words increasingly muffled by the exposed skin of your spaghetti-strapped shoulder.

A shiver trembles down your spine and you take a steadying breath. “Okay. Then you better detach before all that shit goes out the window.”

Joel takes a deep breath and rolls his forehead over your shoulder with a moan. “Smart. You’re so goddamn smart. So goddamn pretty. Got my Peter pipin’ up a storm down there.”

You roll your eyes and will yourself forward, toppling onto his sagging couch with him trailing along behind and groaning as he sinks into it.

Your hands go to the straps on your heels and you begin to unfasten when you hear a definitive nuh-uh. You glance up and Joel’s eyes are fixated on your blood-red satin heels. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Really?”

“Really. Those naughty fuckers stay on,” he orders, and you have no choice but to let your hands fall away.

“Okay, then.”

Joel’s tongue darts out to wet his lips briefly. “Shit. Alright. Where the fuck was I?”

Joel busies his hands – his focus – with topping off the contents in the bowl of his bong. He graciously offers it to you.

“Light it for me?”

Joel smirks and flicks his lighter as he holds the glass contraption steady.

Once you’ve taken a healthy puff, Joel sets the devices aside and crooks a finger under your chin, coaxing you forward. The burn curls in your throat as you hold the smoke. Joel’s nose traces a delicate line down your cheek before hovering his parted lips over your mouth and tracing his thumb over your painted red lip, smearing the color down your chin.

“Let it out,” he mutters, his heavy, rosey stare shimmering into yours.

The smoke cascades from between your lips into Joel’s waiting mouth where he inhales it with practiced ease, holding it for a moment before exhaling the remnants of it over your face with a lazy smile.

“So fuckin’ sweet spillin’ outta that mouth, little Sugarplum,” he croons, continuing to futz with the color on your lips.

You wrinkle your nose at him and laugh. “Dude, you’re so fucking high right now, my asshole would probably taste sweet.”

“It does,” Joel drawls, rolling your bottom lip down and watching it snap back up. “I got first-hand ‘xperience. Or…first…mouth…” Joel’s train of thought floats off from there as his eyes transfix on your lips.

“Another hit, please.”

That refocuses his attention and he nods, a little sluggish. You take the reins this time, lighting the bowl yourself and savoring your pull.

As you exhale again into the thick air of his trailer, Joel takes another, more modest puff to maintain his already achieved high.

“Shit, I needed this,” you groan, feeling more and more boneless as you melt into his couch. “That’s good shit.”

“I don’t skimp on what’s important,” Joel mumbles, slumping over until his curly mop plops into your lap.

You chuckle at him, stroking a hand through his hair and receiving a very pornographic moan in response when your nails scratch against his scalp.

“Fuckin’ Christ. You’re my fuckin’ angel. Angel in devil’s clothes.”

Cleverness begins to fail you as the cozy tendrils of the weed start to lighten your brain into something a little more relaxed. So you just sink into the couch, playing with his soft locks and humming to his lethargic babble.

When you’ve waded through the deepest of the haze, Joel sits back up, cradling his cheek in the crook of his arm as it balances on the back of his sofa. “So what are you doin’ here, Sugarplum? You get all dressed up for me? ‘Cause I somehow doubt that.”

You smirk at him in what you hope is playfully, but lands somewhere closer to dopey. “Why do you doubt that?”

He just fixes you with a telling look, and you concede.

“Okay. No, I um– I had a date tonight.”

Joel nods, a little exaggeratedly in his current state. “Pretty little thing had a date. ‘Course she did.”

“Well, I did,” you say, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them to your side, maintaining what seems like a silly level of modesty given your present company. “Until he canceled on me about twenty minutes before he was supposed to pick me up.”

The divots between his brows seem to grow impossibly deep at that. “You gotta be goddamn jokin’ me. No fucker in his right mind would stand up a thing like you.”

You dip your head down, picking at the fraying threads of his couch cushion. “Not so sure about that.”

“I am. I’m damn sure.”

You shrug, “I just didn’t want the dress to go to waste.”

“Sure as hell didn’t.”

You hum in response. Picking. Tugging. Picking. Tugging. Until you feel fingers pinching your chin and guiding your attention up. And his eyes are still watery, still tinged with red, but are so unwavering as they burrow into your own, brimming with wetness for a wholly different reason.

“Hey,” he utters, soft as anything, soft as his hair, soft as his belly, soft as his eyes. “It sure as hell didn’t,” he repeats, and waits for you to acknowledge it.

And you do, with a small nod and sniffle.

“Good girl.”

Your lip quivers at that, and the words tumble out. “Fuck me. Right now.”

Your back hits the seat cushions and his mouth is on yours, tasting sweet and a little bitter as his tongue strokes between your teeth. His noises pitch upward as you tug lightly at his hair, and his knee situates itself between your legs, providing you with delicious friction against your already dripping core.

Joel’s breath wafts hot over your ear as he rasps, “You take your panties off for him or for me?”

“For you,” you reply breathily, moaning as he nips and licks at your ear, his increased breath reverberating in your head so loud it makes your pussy throb with the influx of intimacy.

“All for me?” he asks, maneuvering a hand down to where you’re wet and begging for him, “Goin’ commando in this tight ‘n tiny little number, riskin’ givin’ anyone on the street a flash of your drippy little slit?”

Your moan bounces off the walls when he slips two fingers inside of you, pumping and curling them with a rehearsed accuracy that has pleasure fraying your edges as soon as he sets his pace.

“And you brought it here to me? Brought me this sexy, heart-shaped box of yours all wrapped up in a pretty package?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, wrapping a heel-clad foot around his waist to spread yourself open for him, “Brought it for you. All for you. Please.”

“You gonna come for me, you naughty little angel? Come on daddy’s fingers.”

You whimper as he strokes at you with those fingers, his other hand descending on your clit to rub circles with his thumb. Your hips buck into his hand on your clit and down onto his fingers pistoning inside you, and you feel yourself coming apart all at once, your voice breaking as you call out for him.

Joel showers you in praise as he fucks you through your release, resting his forehead on your temple. “Good fuckin’ girl. All that for daddy. Good girl. Squeeze daddy’s fingers, just like that, baby. Fuckin’ shit. So fuckin’ pretty.”

A whine kicks up in your throat as the overstimulation starts to throb in your clit, and you bump at his hand to stem the sensation. Joel’s fingers web through yours as he pins your hand above your head on the arm of the sofa, his two fingers slowing to a methodical crawl within your pussy.

“Love how you feel around my fuckin’ fingers, sweetheart. Love seein’ how tight you clench around ‘em, knowin’ I’m about to stretch you wide open on my cock and feel you just as tight.”

“Fucking love your cock, daddy,” you keen as your hips undulate in time with his continued ministrations inside you. “Wanna be filled with it right now.”

“You want daddy’s cock now?” he teases, the tips of his two fingers dragging delightfully against the most enticing spot of your inner walls, drawing a tender gasp from your lips.

“I really, really do,” you whimper, grinding onto his hand harder, “Need you to split me open, daddy.”

“Can I get a ‘please’ all pretty-like for me?”

You whine again and nod. “Please, daddy. Fill me with your cock.”

“You deserve it, don’t you, sexy girl?”

And the way he asks it, the way his eyes bore into yours when he does, you feel like he’s asking you to admit to more than you’d otherwise be willing to offer yourself.

Tell yourself that you deserve good things. You deserve this pleasure.

“I—” your breath hitches as his fingers crook inside you again, your nerve faltering at your lips.

Joel’s lips part as he keeps drawing your pleasure tighter again, and you feel your core building that pressure again. “Tell me. Tell daddy you deserve his cock.”

“I— I deserve it,” you force out through the mounting pleasure in your brain, gasping when his fingers pick up momentum. “Oh, god, that…it feels…”

“Yeah, pretty girl? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for daddy, I can feel it too. You deserve this, baby,” he coos, releasing your trapped hand to press firmly above your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet for me. Show me how wet you are for daddy, make your little hole gush for me.”

“Daddy, I…oh,” you squeak out as a wave of pleasure washes over you, pulsing out your limbs. And more than that, you feel a steady stream of liquid flow out of you, you hear the wet slap of Joel’s fingers, his palm, as it floods his hand.

“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby. That’s it, darlin’ girl. Soak my fuckin’ hand. Such a naughty little bitch. Squirtin’ out your filthy little snatch for daddy. That’s fuckin’ right,” he babbles as his palm smacks lewdly up against your cunt with a fresh wave of wetness.

Your hips jolt with the heightened sensation, and you can’t muster anything more than barely audible moans as Joel fucks you until you have nothing left for him to coax out.

“Fuckin’ shit, sweetheart. Messy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts as he wipes his dripping hand on his sweats before tucking both behind your knees and spreading your legs to admire your drenched, finger-fucked cunt. “So juicy for daddy, huh? Daddy’s gonna slide his big straw into that sloppy little juice box of yours. And when I’m done you can suck on his big straw like a good little girl. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”

“Can you please just fuck me?” you beg, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders to push your dress and strapless bra below your tits. Joel stares hungrily as you play with them for him.

“Fuck me. Yeah, your little box is ready to get stuffed, ain’t it?” he moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss up your calf and up to your ankle, still encased in your shoe. His teeth bite at the strap and buckle, skimming his lips wetly down the curve of your foot to the arch of it and sucking at the side of it he’s able to reach.

“Joel,” you whine helplessly, desperately as your pussy screams for that bulge in his pants to bury itself inside your body instead. “What the fuck are you doing.”

“Worshippin’ my slutty little goddess. You blessed me with this little dress, this tasty little puss, so I’m gonna show my appreciation,” he mutters into your foot.

And it shouldn’t feel good, but you’ve never had anyone put their lips on your feet before, and you’re so fucking horny for this man, you let yourself feel it. Your other heel drapes over his shoulder as his mouth drags over the slope of your foot and back up your ankle.

“Such a pretty outfit, so I’ve decided not to tear it apart. Nasty little whore, you made it easy to access whatever I want anyway,” he chuckles a bit, gliding his teeth up until he can bite at the skin under your knee.

You groan and press your head into the couch cushion, “Not the first person to accuse me of being a hooker tonight.”

Joel pauses for a second with a suspicious look. “Who was the first? Better not’ve been that shitty fucker who stood you up, or I’ll deck his lights out,” he says with a gentle aggression that has a rolling heat burgeoning in your stomach for a reason you can’t quite place.

“No, it was that old guy at your work tonight.”

Joel cocks his head. “Walter? Walter said you were a hooker?”

“I said I was looking for you and he just…assumed, I think. You hire hookers on the clock? ‘Cause he seems to think so.”

“Only a handful of times,” he mutters, his eyes going shifty, uneasy, almost…embarrassed. “I don’t wanna talk about that. Not with your slutty little hole winkin’ at me like that.”

“Fair enough,” you dismiss, tapping your heel against Joel’s back to spark his attention. “Stop making me fucking wait for what I came for.”

“Already came twice,” Joel says under his breath, but he uses the hand not gripping the back of your knee to work his cock out of its confines, springing out angry and red and as intimidating as ever. He leaves it bobbing free as he takes up his hands behind both of your knees to spread you wider. “Guide it where you want it, pretty girl. He’s all yours.”

You bite your lip at those words. He’s all yours. Your hand wraps around his girth before you let your mind race too far. You stroke him softly and revel in the way his chin droops down to his chest and a groan rumbles in his throat at the first real stimulation of his cock.

“Let me feel that red velvet pussy, baby.”

You finally notch the fat head of him at your entrance and wiggle your hips down the couch, gasping as it parts your opening with a dull sting. When you capture Joel’s gaze, you beg softly, “Fuck it, daddy. She’s all yours.”

His face caves into an expression so aroused it almost looks painful. And then he’s groaning to fill the hush of the room and spearing into your cunt with every inch of him at once.

You’ll never get used to the sounds that he pushes out of you when he fucks you full, when he enters you for the first time and smacks you in the face with how gigantic he is in comparison to the tight ring of your pussy. Like a wounded animal, like prey falling to a predator, like you’re irreversibly changed once he’s claimed you for his own.

His rhythm sets off harsh and frantic and consuming, keeping your legs spread to feast his eyes upon your ravaged flesh.

“Fuck, so goddamn perfect. Feel so perfect around my cock. Milkin’ daddy just right with this tight little hole, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, tweaking your hardened nipples between your fingers and massaging at your tits as his hips smack against yours, the drenched state of your pussy enhancing the sound.

Joel secures your legs over his shoulders and leans in over you, bracketing your head with his hands and snapping his hips into you as you cry out with the change in angle, pulling him deeper inside you.

“Yeah, daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, huh? You love this fuckin’ cock? You love daddy fuckin’ this dirty snatch so fuckin’ deep?”

“Yes,” you keen, flinging your hands back to dig your nails into the arm of his couch and using it as leverage to fuck yourself down onto his length as he shoves it in, falling into a blissful harmony.

“Fuck daddy’s cock, slutty girl. God, I fuckin’ love that. Suckin’ it right up your cunt like a pro. Pussy’s so tight I got it molded to my cock now, don’t I? Ain’t gonna fit right with no other cock, is it?”

“No, daddy,” you whine, plunging yourself down onto him again and again just to feel the tip of it dragging along your cervix in that way you have come to fucking crave. Joel’s cock fucks you open and curves up into that perfect spot inside of you in the most flawless rhythm, and it has you spiraling into another orgasm with no discernible warning. You pussy clenches and spills around his cock, soaking the both of you with what Joel had already primed you for with his fingers.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Joel moans as he lets his cock slip out of you to watch you gush onto his thoroughly soiled couch. He fucks back into you in a single push and withdraws again, just to see more of it rush out. Joel fists his cock and slaps it down onto your spread folds in a series of heavy smacks, then rubs the head of it against your clit as the rivulets cascading from you subside. “Gushin’ like a fuckin’ jacuzzi. Where you been hidin’ this little party trick?”

“I don’t fucking know,” you pant out, trying to get a grip on your shaking thighs as Joel’s cock slides through your folds. “Fuck. I didn’t know…”

“Well if anyone was gonna teach you, it would be your big dick daddy, now wouldn’t it?” Joel brags, smacking the full length of him against your lips and lower belly.

You twitch with residual aftershocks as the weight of him jostles you, and Joel chuckles.

“You’re shaking like a leaf darlin’,” he says, tapping one of your quivering thighs. “Flip over for me. Daddy’s gonna dick you down real good.”

“Gonna?” you squeak out, staring at him incredulously, “What have you been doing so far?”

Joel presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and smacks at your thigh again. “Ego’s already big enough, darlin’. Don’t go pumpin’ it up for me now.”

“Can say that again,” you mutter with a small smile, but flip over until you’re flat on your stomach and resting your head in your arms. “Big dick, bigger ego.”

Joel grunts behind you as he settles on top of you, slipping his arm under and around your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. He grinds his cock into the cleft of your ass before pulling back and aligning it at your entrance again with his hand. He hums in your ear and says with laughter in his voice, “Imagine if it was my ego I was shovin’ into this tiny cunt. You’d be fucked.”

Your reply is replaced with a gasping moan as he presses back into you at a different angle, this one rubbing intensely along the front wall of your pussy. The groan you release is embarrassing, abhorrent to your own ears, but Joel’s answering moan has all concern fluttering from your conscience.

“How’re you still so fuckin’ tight after I’ve fucked you open so many times, huh, Sugarplum?” he asks, voice clearly forced out through his teeth, like he’s fighting for his life not to spill his load inside of you in the next few seconds. But he bottoms out and fucks you slow, staying balls deep and making a home for himself there in the deepest part of you. “Jesus, need to dust off the ol’ cock ring. Wanna fuck you for hours, baby. Fuck you raw and stupid on this dick. Fuck you ‘til you fall asleep on it, you’re so goddamn tired. Fuck you ‘til you forget what it feels like to not be stuffed full of me.”

“Daddy,” you whimper into your arms, already overwhelmed by the sheer heft of this man making room for himself inside your body, not even giving your pussy an ounce of space to relax that isn’t around him, isn’t on his terms. “Feels so fucking good inside. So fucking big.”

“I know it, sweetheart. So good at takin’ this cock. That first time I thought you was gonna pass out on it. And look at you now – shakin’ and beggin’ for it like a bitch. You daddy’s bitch, nasty girl?”

“Yes,” you whine as Joel starts to slam his hips harder, faster into you, “Yes, I’m your bitch, daddy!” And you’re suddenly screaming it for him as his fingers dig into the back of your shoulder, holding you steady as he uses you.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls out, hoisting himself off you and hauling your hips into the air along with him. He fucks down deep into you as you moan into the couch, allowing him to take what he’s rightfully earned from you, simply by appreciating you, knowing how to make you scream, knowing how to make you come.

And you’re fairly dizzy with the experience, but you aren’t far gone enough to not feel the slippery thumb massaging circles against the tight ring of muscle he’s only ever explored before with his tongue.

A mewl escapes your lips as the tip of the digit teases your resolve.

“You gonna be my little slut, baby? Let daddy put his thumb in your ass. It’s real good for ya. It’ll be real good,” he speaks in breathy pants as his cock maintains its devastating tempo.

You let out a pitiful whimper, and you’re only partially surprised that the only answer in your head is yes, yes, yes.

It’s apparently also on your lips, because without even registering that you’ve said it aloud, Joel is rumbling out a deep and resonant, “That’s my darlin’ girl.” You swear you feel your eyes roll back in your head as the possessive praise inextricably clings itself to the sensation of his thick, meaty thumb gliding into your asshole up to the knuckle.

It shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t feel this good having his cock filling you to the brim and then even more of him filling your ass. You’ve never liked anal, you’ve never even been interested in it, but this fucking tornado of a man has everything spinning in your head, disorienting your thoughts, screaming at you that what you thought was wrong is so, so right.

“Lemme get a picture of this, sweetheart – of you all plugged up with me.”

“Okay,” you gasp, constricting your grip around his thumb as if needing to hammer into your head that there’s a finger in your ass. A thick finger. He can probably feel his own cock through the separating skin.

Joel groans as you flex around his finger. “Spread yourself for the camera, baby.”

Your hands move to your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to feel shame for this. Not for shit like this, with him. Not anymore. He makes you feel dirty and sexy and beautiful and worth his time. Why the hell wouldn’t you want to document this?

“Fuckin’ hell. Just like that.” You hear a series of shutters, and then his thumb slides out of you and he uses it to pull at the small established gape he’s made of your asshole. A few more shutters and Joel is muttering perfect, fuckin’ perfect, as he tosses his phone aside.

The words flow through you like hot honey tea, even if you weren’t meant to hear them. How does a man like him make you feel so treasured when you’re with him? You don’t belong to him, but he treats you like you do, in the most respectful of ways. He drags you down with him into the depths of his depravity, and yet once you’re there, you’re pleasured like… like a goddess. Like his goddess.

Joel’s hips ramp up again, timing his thrusts with that of his thumb as he fucks you in both holes at once. “God, so fuckin’ beautiful like this. Wanna stretch this hole open until you can take this whole cock up your ass, baby. Spill my load in there, watch it drip down your cunt.”

And you had said unequivocally no. You had said, not tabling. Off the table. But, god, deep down you know he’d make it feel so good. Somehow, he’d make it worth it. And it’s fucking killing you. You can’t admit that to him, you can’t let him know that you’re convinced he could make anything feel good. That’s too close to something. And this isn’t something. This is I make you feel good, you make me feel good, and we go our separate ways.

So you just moan for him in response. A verbal confirmation is too much. Giving him too much power over you. And Joel seems too lost in the clutch of your body to parse the difference.

“Velvet fuckin’ pussy, darlin’,” he chants to the rhythm of his hips colliding with yours, and you’ve come to recognize the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. His sounds start to fluctuate in pitch, his hips more stuttered in their movement, his fingernails indent your skin as he frantically clings to the final moments of euphoric crescendo before the cymbal crash.

And crash it does, announced with an unabashed groan of sheer pleasure as he spills himself inside of you again, so many times now you’ve lost count, lost sense of the level of responsibility in your actions. Too feral, too dependent on the soothing, post-fuck tranquility of his come dripping from the deepest part of you. A balm to your stretched, aching wound that he caused, because you asked him to — keep asking him to — again and again. A reminder of where he’s been, what he’s done to you, what he’s done with you in all these private moments.

He slips himself free, and you feel the trickle of him, evidence of how much he’s pumped into you. Leaving you open and gaping, yet so fucking full of him, even after he’s gone. Pulled out and dripped free of your heat and hold.

Lazy kisses paint up your back where your dress has ridden up your spine, and then back down to bite more reminders of him into the flesh of your ass, until he guides your hips flush to the couch and blankets you with his weight.

Minutes of quiet breath-catching tick by, feeling the scratch of his hair where your bare skin meets along your bodies, until Joel breaks the silence to say, “Stupid bastard was out of his fuckin’ mind.”

And you’re not positive why, but you feel tears stinging your eyes again. You steel yourself, refuse to let them fall, force them to dry out before they betray you.

You clear your throat of any traitorous frogs before you speak again. “Sorry about your couch.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout,” he reassures, grunting quietly as he shifts himself off you and slips behind instead, pulling you into him, “Plus, Doreen’s got one of them special little steam cleaners she lets me borrow from time to time. Get it cleaned up real nice.”

“Doreen?”

“Little old lady ‘cross the way,” he says into your hair.

You do your best to turn slightly and look at him. “You’re friends with the little old lady across the way?”

“You doubt my charm?”

Your eyes search his face — the wide, dopey smile, the drooping eyelids, the dwindling glassy rose in his eyes from the weed — and you smile back.

“Maybe. Feel like you would be a kind old lady’s worst nightmare.”

“Nah, I’m a good boy. Just ask my mama,” he quips.

“Sure,” you joke, positioning yourself back into a proper little spoon.

You feel a kiss on the back of your head. “Gonna step out for some fresh air and a smoke. Keep me company?”

You grumble as Joel props himself upright on the couch and pulls his sweats back up. “‘S’cold outside,” you groan, watching him as he stands and slips on a shirt from where it was strewn onto the back of a chair.

Joel studies you where you lie, your dress a flimsy accordion with the top and bottom convening at your torso, leaving Joel’s favorite bits on display. And as much as you assume it probably pains him to have your body hidden from his view, he says, “You can wear my coat.”

Your eyes light up. “Yeah?”

Joel masks a grin and grabs the coat off the peg by the door, throwing it to you. You know this coat. You’ve worn it before. And although you don’t want to give yourself away by inhaling its scent too gratuitously, you don’t capture any hints of your perfume on the fabric in your covert sniffs. It’s been too long.

You push yourself onto only moderately shaky legs and work yourself back into your dress properly before slipping your arms through the coat and zipping it around you. You feel a bit like a giant marshmallow in the padded utility jacket, but when you look back up at Joel, there’s a shimmer of something in his eyes, on his face. And something like a twitch in his mouth, like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it.

You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Joel hold his tongue over anything, so it’s likely just a trick of the light, the lingering effects of your high.

Joel’s eyes only tear from you to swipe up his smokes and lighter from the coffee table and step into a pair of slides before he’s leading you out the door.

The cold is bitter, but Joel’s coat is warm enough. Your legs prick with the chill breeze as Joel sticks two cigarettes into his mouth and lights them both, handing one off to you. You rest on the railing with him side by side, taking reasonably synchronous puffs as you stare up at the moon, the stars.

A couple screams at each other a few lots down, their voices only muted by the distance and the persistent, humming buzz of Joel’s porch light.

“Right on cue,” Joel mumbles around his cig as he scratches his beard. “Kev can’t keep it in his fuckin’ pants for the life of ‘im.”

“Mmm. Sounds like someone I know.”

Joel’s sidelong glance is sprinkled with a sort of childlike mischievousness as the corners of his mouth lilt. “Maybe so. But I wouldn’t step out on my girl, though.”

His lingering gaze has the back of your neck growing hot. You hum in agreement as you take another drag, tapping the ash with fingers half-obscured by the length of Joel’s sleeves and watching as it falls to the gravel below.

Joel flicks the ash of his own smoke against the railing to plop down next to yours, and exhales a cloud as he stares off in the direction of the feuding couple’s trailer. “When I got a girl, that’s all I need. And it’s been a rare blue moon that my girl ever went and got it somewhere else.”

He takes in a steady, clean breath and shrugs with his head before continuing. “And whenever they did, they came crawlin’ right back. Always come to find that their daddy lays the best pipe. Ain’t never seen one of my girls spread ‘em open for no one else after they stepped out the first time. Not ‘til after it was over.”

Your focus catches on his lips as they wrap around his cigarette again, the barest concave of his cheeks as he sucks, the pout of him as he expels into the night air. And you ache to say something. You feel heavy with it.

The opening chords of a melodic ballad fall upon your ears, and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction of the screaming pair. Instead, you’re graced with a couple coming together in an embrace, slowly rocking to the music floating from their porch.

A soft laugh escapes you as you watch them wistfully. “Now that is how a Valentine’s Day is supposed to end.”

Joel glances at you. He takes one last drag from his smoke and tamps it out on the wood before dropping it into a chipped mug on the railing, housing a dozen cigarette butts. He holds a hand out to you and tilts his head toward the pavement.

You stare at his outstretched hand, and your mind trips over itself to unravel the intent behind it. “What are—”

“Dance with me.”

Your eyes snap up to his, and you’re met with an easy smile on a disheveled, glassy-eyed, gorgeous man. Braving the cold in sweats, a wrinkly and hole-riddled Henley, and slides on tube-socked feet. Asking you to dance while clad in his coat and your stilettos.

You chew on your lip as you watch his fingers wiggle impatiently as your cigarette butt kisses Joel’s in the mug when you discard it. And then as your hand slides into his.

“Atta girl,” he praises you softly, tugging you down the steps with him and onto the pavement.

Joel isn’t fancy with it. He just pulls you close into him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you drape your head on his shoulder. He sways the two of you from side to side following the beat of the music. Your heels scrape the asphalt, your nails scratch the back of his neck, and his hands dip below the hem of his coat to tease at the round of your ass over your dress.

“Sure I ain’t said it enough, but you’re a goddamn knockout tonight,” he rumbles quietly into your ear, his fingers groping at the bottom curve of your cheeks to emphasize his point.

And after your date flaked on you, after you got dolled up for him, got your hopes up for a nice night, and had your plans disintegrate between your fingers, just for Joel to swoop in and illuminate your sky with stars, those words spear right through your heart.

And you know you should say something traditionally sweet back. Something like thank you or you too. But as those softer words rattle around your brain, you feel wetness trickling down your inner thigh, and you opt to whisper something more personalized. Something you know Joel would find sweetest of all to fall from your lips. “I can feel you dripping out of me.”

A groan vibrates up his chest and one hand slips between your bodies until you feel the cool press of his fingers at your cunt.

“Fuck me, darlin’,” he breathes, bringing up two thick fingers for you to see, glistening opalescent in the moonlight.

He doesn’t ask, you just drop your jaw and stick your tongue out for him, sucking your shared juices off his skin as your eyes lock. He pulls them free and replaces them with his mouth, tasting the two of you off your tongue. Joel’s hand nestles under your dress once more to cup your pussy. Not to slide inside, not to get you off. Just to hold you as close as he knows how. To catch where the two of you fall.

He nuzzles your nose with his and tucks your face into his neck with his other hand as he sways with you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sugarplum.”

You sigh into his neck and lay your hand over his beneath your dress.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy.”

Read Chloe's Account of Joel's UFO sighting here!

Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #sleazy!joel miller #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic #mmitb

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landitolover · 6 months

Text

𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒐, in which charles isn’t the best boyfriend.. ౨ৎ charles x famous!reader

warnings- toxic charles, cheating, reader is love-dumb… !

y/n 💋

charles what the fuck

tell me it isn’t true??

who is she

cha 🤍

baby it isn’t true

i swear, i love you

she came onto me

y/n 💋

are you sure

cha 🤍

yes, my love

i promise you

y/n 💋

come over?

cha 🤍

i’ll be there in ten

Liked by charles_leclerc, alexademie, maxverstappen1, and 1,092,299 others

yourusername 🤍.

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,209 comments

user oh this man has no shame at all 💀

user yn…. 🌝

user girl pls run as fast as u can

user no queen you’re too good for him 😭😭😭😭

user yncharles nation how do we feel

→ user uhm TERRIBLE

→ user poor girl ☹️

→ user nah she definitely knows.

charles_leclerc mon coeur 🩶.

→ user …..

→ user he gave me the eww…

alexademie gorgeous 🤍

→ alexademie he’s there too ig…

→ yourusername 🫶🏻 ily

landonorris 🤨🤨

→ user even lando confused 😭

→ user bro keep charles in line

→ alex_albon me too lando…

lilymhe my girl 🤍🤍

→ yourusername 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

maxverstappen1 pretty :)

→ yourusername thank you

→ user SHOOT YO SHOT MAX!!

→ user mr steal your girl 🙏🏼 save her

lilyrose_depp 😍😍

landito

yn are you okay

y/n

uh, yeah? why

alexander albon.

be so fr

charles???

y/n

it was nothing, she came onto him

he loves me guys

landito

whatever you say, yn..

alexander albon.

stay safe queen!

Liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe, alexademie and 1,249,298 others

yourusername paris

tagged charles_leclerc

View all 6,292 comments

user this is so sad seeing how much she loves him

→ user fr and he’s out there cheating ????

user babe he hasn’t posted u in months why are you still posting him!!! 😭😭

user u are better than this queen 😪

user OPEN UR EYES BITCH

user she’s so strong

→ user not strong enough to leave him :///

landonorris sooo cute 😃

→ user i can hear the sarcasm

→ user LMFAOO

alex_albon yeah stay away from paris…

→ user SPEAK UR TRUTH KING

charles_leclerc ❤️

y/n 💋

chaaa, do you wanna come over?

cha 🤍

I can’t

sorry, chérie.

i’m out with friends

y/n 💋

nono it’s fine

have fun!

i love you ❤️

Read 20:22

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 1,293,293 others

yourusername time away!! with my favorites 🫶🏻

tagged lilymhe, alex_albon

View all 4,199 comments

user break up with your bf now xx

user too pretty for him

user 🙏🏼 a weekend without ch*rles

landonorris glad to see it!

→ yourusername 😃

lilymhe IT WAS SO FUN HANGING WITH U ❤️

→ yourusername 🤍🤍 love you sm

alex_albon i look gross in that pic

→ georgerussell63 nothing new mate

charles_leclerc so pretty mon amore

→ user the audacity this man has

→ user 🤺🤺🤺

Liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, landonorris, and 29 others

yourprivate when he’s making out with yet another girl 😂! idk what happened because i tried giving him my all 😂😂

View all 8 comments

lilymhe leave him please

→ yourprivate 😂😂 I can’t

lilymhe i don’t want u to be even more sad ☹️

alex_albon FUCK MEN!!!!

landonorris yn u are better than this

→ yourprivate am i though…

georgerussell63 he don’t know what to do with allat!!

→ lilymhe fr!! yn is too good for his ass

y/n 💋

what’s her name.

cha 🤍

what?

y/n 💋

her name

the girl you were kissing, charles

cha 🤍

baby

i was drunk

y/n 💋

don’t ‘baby’ me

and you WERENT drunk charles

what did i do wrong?

cha 🤍

nothing i swear

y/n 💋

I must’ve done something wrong

if you cheated on me TWICE

you probably cheated more than that.

cha 🤍

fine then, i just got bored of you

is that what you wanted to hear?

that i just stopped loving you?

because that’s what happened.

y/n 💋

fuck you charles

i knew I shouldn’t have dated you

I should’ve listened to everyone who told me to leave you.

cha 🤍

you should’ve 🤷

but you didn’t

You have blocked this contact

yourusername • 1 hour ago

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though.

Seen just now

౨ৎ some crazy shit forreal 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 now me personally i could never take charles back (why am i lying)… okay anyways i hope you enjoyed this 🐨🐌🤍

requested by my wife @landovilla ily 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 ౨ৎ

#𓇼 landitolover #꩜ my writings #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #female reader #smau #angst #toxic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #f1 x y/n

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irisintheafterglow · 6 months

Note

hi!!! could i request pro hero!bakugo & pro hero!reader where bkgs doing an interview and they ask about relationships and his answer is “I thought you people already knew that im married”

i have no idea how to word things but i hope that was readable🙏🙏

keeping it in the family

wc: 1.6k

cw/tags: swearing, mentions of drinking and alcohol, established relationship, dialogue-driven

note: RAHHH I LOVE HUSBAND BAKUGO. anyways !!! i hope you like this, i did get a little carried away when writing it so hopefully it makes sense. thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“And we’re on in five, four, three, two…give ‘em hell.” The roar of excited applause jumbles together with the late-night show’s opening theme and the screams of excited fans can still be heard even as Kirishima flashes a blinding smile to the camera.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Heroes on Heroes! We’re so glad you’re joining us tonight, seeing as this is the finale of season one!” The audience cheers with fiery passion and it makes the three heroes onstage chuckle nervously. This was going to be a long night, especially if the superfans were crying after every word they spoke. “I’m Red Riot,” he pauses while the cheering erupts once again, “and I’m joined by my fellow pros, Chargebolt and Dynamight.” You wince from your place at sidestage from the sheer wave of noise that slams into your eardrums when the latter is introduced.

“Thanks for having us tonight, man,” Denki grins. He eagerly drums the armrests of his chair, to the left of Kirishima. “I’ve been looking forward to doing one of these since I saw Deku’s a few weeks back.”

“It’s a great concept, really. I love being able to just chat with you guys and shoot the shit about hero stuff. It’s so manly.” Kirishima turns expectantly to the other hero sitting to his right, whose hot-headed nature was blatantly obvious by how he was slumped in his chair, squinting slightly at the burning spotlights and clicking cameras. You admire Kirishima’s confidence in forcing Katsuki to say something. “What about you, Bakugo? How’re you feeling tonight?”

“I’m alright,” he shrugs indifferently. Your breath catches in your throat and you can hear the Dynamight agency’s publicist put his head in his hands. “It’s been a while, so it’s good to see you guys,” he adds with unexpected fondness and you exhale in relief. His eyes meet yours for half a second and he shoots you a wink that makes your knees wobbly. “I saw that save at the bridge collapse last week, Shitty Hair. Pretty decent work.” Kirishima blinks once, twice, and then glances at Denki. Katuski’s blank look narrows into a scowl. “The hell are you looking like that for? I got shit in my teeth or something?”

“No, no. Sorry, man,” Kirishima laughs. “I just wasn’t expecting a compliment from you so early in the show.”

“Yeah, we thought we’d have to booze you up a little more to get you to be nicer,” Denki jokes and he recoils a bit when he’s struck with a molten hot glare from the hero across from him.

“Whatever you’re about to say, bro, don’t say it,” Kirishima warns and the crackles in Katsuki’s palms gradually dissipate. “But, I’m wondering too. What’s with the good mood?”

“I guess I feel like playing nice tonight,” he answers cryptically, his gaze flicking over to you again with amusement. You can almost sense the fainting girls falling over each other in the front row. Kirishima’s attention subtly darts over to you and a knowing smirk grows over his face. It was the first time you and Katsuki were at the same press event, since you both thought it was too dangerous to sneak around until now. “But, talk about that bridge save. I don’t think a lot of people know that the guy was wanted by several agencies.”

“Ooh, yeah,” Denki agrees with a quick sip of his drink. He swallows and sets the glass down with a light thud. “He’d been giving us hell for weeks. It's not really the best matchup for a sand villain to be going up against an electric hero.”

“It was the sand villain and his wife, wasn’t it? That chick with the melting Quirk?”

“Yep, they were a nasty couple to deal with,” Kirishima confirms. “I had to keep track of this guy’s damn sand spikes and his wife turning the floor to goop at the same time.”

“Goop is a weird-ass way to put it,” Katsuki points out with obvious distaste.

“Yeah, but he was a pretty goopy guy.” Chuckles ripple through the audience and you can’t help breaking a smile too at Kirishima’s joke.

“I think for me, at least,” Denki adds, “the biggest pain was the fact that they were married, and they had, like, marriage telepathy or something.”

“Bro, I thought that was just me! Here I was, thinking that I’d incapacitated one and split them from the other, when bam! Both of them appear in front of me like a damn genie.”

“You ever have to deal with villain couples, Bakubro?”

“Nah, not recently. We’ve been doing a lot of big raids on all the crime families downtown.” He flexes his right bicep and pulls back the sleeve of his shirt to show a gnarly purple spot growing on his skin. “Got this little beauty three days ago from a neo-Hassaikai asshole.” You're not fazed by the ugly shade of the wound because you were the one who stitched up the...less visible results of the raid.

“Jeez, man,” Denki says in disbelieving awe at his friend’s injury. “If you ever need backup, we’d love to do a team up with you.”

“I think I’d rather die–”

“My agency would also love to team-up with you,” Kirishima interjects before Katsuki can finish his thought. The heart rate monitor of his publicist begins to rapidly beep behind you. “We can have a threeway team-up! That’d be pretty cool, don’t you guys think?”

“What if we all just merged into one big super agency? Like a big family?”

“That sounds like the stupidest shit–” Again, Kirishima cuts off Katsuki’s brash protests and saves them from being taken off the air.

"That would be so awesome."

“Would that mean we’d have to get pro-hero partners, too? Keep hero work in the family?”

“I think Salonpas would have heart palpitations if we said we were trying to keep hero work within the family,” Katsuki points out and his friends nod in agreement. “On another fuckin’ note, that Half-and-Half idiot keeps hogging the number two spot and it pisses me off.” Though you didn’t often encounter Todoroki while you were on patrol, you knew that he was adamant about keeping work life and family life separate. It made him even more of a dedicated hero and a recent bust of a notorious crime ring bumped him into the number two spot over Dynamight for that month. You didn’t hear the end of it from Katsuki.

“He and Deku just work really efficiently, Bakubro.”

“I can efficiently slam both their skulls into a–”

“You know what would solve that problem?” Denki butts in unceremoniously, covering up his harsh words for a third time. Katsuki grunts in response and the lightning-decorated hero gives him enthusiastic finger-guns. “Combining and making a family agency.”

“What are the chances that Sero would want to join too?”

“Probably pretty high,” Kirishima guesses. “He’s at my place every other week, anyway, so he’s basically my brother.”

“Alright, maybe this could actually work, then. I just need to find a smoking hot hero wife.”

“That’ll probably be the hardest part, buddy–”

“What about Bakugo?” You stiffen and the three guys turn their attention to a voice calling out from the audience. Speaking during the interviews was strictly prohibited until the question and answer section, but getting Katsuki’s attention was a surefire way to derail the entire episode.

“The fuck do you mean, what about Bakugo? Who the fuck said that?”

"Dude, just ignore them."

“Can’t be a family agency if Bakugo never gets into relationships,” the same nasally, irritating voice argues and your face feels like it’s been set on fire. Kirishima’s attention jumps to you for a moment and then back to his friend, whose palms are starting to spark like fireworks. “Do you just get no bitches, or something?” The audience gasps and security finally arrives to escort the disturbance out of the building. The director is ready to stop the cameras and jump to a commercial break, but Katsuki speaks before he can order the sound crew to cut the mics. To everyone’s surprise, his voice is nothing but amusement, like the insinuation didn’t bother him in the slightest.

“You think I don’t get into relationships?”

“Bakugo…”

“It’s alright, Pikachu. I really don’t give a shit about whatever that guy said,” Katsuki reassures his friend with a sly glint in his eye. His friends watch him warily, like a grenade on the verge of exploding. Once again, burning red eyes meet yours with a single question that you answer with a resolute nod. “I’m not gonna blow up, so stop looking like that. Really, I don’t care.”

“Why not?” A tense beat of silence passes, then–

“I thought you people knew that I’m married.” A shit-eating grin spreads across your husband’s face as gasps of shock burst from the audience. Kirishima and Denki both shake their heads in exasperation. They knew already, of course, but they didn’t expect him to reveal his relationship status as a result of a heckler. “Yep, going on a year and a half, now. Around five years together total coming this winter.” More collective cries of jealousy, surprise, and betrayal shake the building’s foundation. "If you don't believe me, ask these guys."

"Yeah, we were at the wedding, too. It's hard to keep it a secret when all of your friends are also high-profile heroes."

“Can you guys believe that he fell in love during the winter?” Denki’s thumb juts out toward his friend, who frowns at the mere mention of cold weather.

“I fucking hate the winter,” he grumbles.

“We know, man,” Kirishima says sympathetically, unsuccessfully hiding a chuckle. “You’ve been saying that since high school.”

“Yeah, and shit hasn’t changed,” Katsuki bites back with lighthearted indignance. “Look, they saved my ass when it was cold; how was I not supposed to fall in love with them?” To your delight, his complexion has turned a slightly darker shade of pink. “Yeah, I love them. What about it, asshats?”

“Is this a bad time to bring up the family agency again?”

“Let’s go to commercial before I blow this fucking chair to pieces.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #bnha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #ask iris!

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cheesit-notes · 10 months

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pervy tf141 x reader (pt2 kinda)

you're hot as fuck; the team knows it, and so do you. and god, you're such a tease about it.

➥ requested by anon!

tags: lowkey nsfw under cut!, fem!reader, sub gaz, sub soap, every tf141 member kinda subby, voyeurism w/ ghost, teasing, reader kinda dom implied, ass and lots of it, reader being a tease, bold reader

a/n: i started at 9pm and ended at 1am and sometime between then and now, i got really tired so sorry for any mispellings, none of my work are ever edited.. my brain isnt quite functioning rn and i want to sleep but thanks for requesting anon, whoever u are ;3

Gaz who’s gets so flustered over how… just how bold you are. god, you’re teasing him with those clothes that just fit your body so, so well. his morals are already questioned when you come in, he couldnt stop imagining you in different positions. but now he doesnt have to imagine! because now, you’re bending over, purposely showing him your plush ass, to pick something up, showing him what you’d look like in certain positions. and my, gaz is a little pervert isnt he? getting hard in the middle of the common area just because you dropped your drink and picked it up. his face is flushed embarrassed and his growing erection sure doesn’t help. quick, someone might enter the room and see his throbbing cock strained against his pants so sit on his lap, tell him to be quiet, and help him out, yeah?

Soap who love the confidence you have, he’s like putty around you.. if you initiate more physical contact with him, specifically touches that can be easily misunderstood if anyone were to see, and he’s practically drooling. has been pushed against the wall by you, his hand pushing up your thigh because he just couldnt help himself, and your lips just mere inches from his. he’s rock hard, you can feel it as you press yourself onto him, and he’s leaking so much precum, its like he pissed himself. yet all this to be interrupted by your dear old Lieutenant Ghost who happened to discover the scene. poor Soap who’s most intimate moment with you just disappeared and left with a throbbing cock, but you seem fine. in fact, you’re smiling cheekily. you whisper to Soap, telling him to wait for you in his barracks before happily walking away like nothing just happened. ah, but Soap can’t wait. he jacks himself off twice, unable to stop. and he’s panting like a dog! it only took you 30 minutes to come to his barracks, but he’s already a sopping mess; sweat dripping down his face, bits of cum splattered on his stomach, and a small pool in between his legs. then you start stroking his soft cock, and he shouldn’t like this. he’s can barely get hard, the overstimulation is so painful to him, but he’s a like a bitch in heat in your hands.

Ghost who gets so fucking hard during team briefings. god, his erection is painfully obvious to anyone who just so much as glanced by that area. he doesnt mean to get hard, its just.. you.. you’re there. right next to him. your ass is within reach, god, and your wearing those tight leggings again. he needs you to blow his poor needy cock off and he needs it bad. he usually wants to at least look decent in front of captain Price. oh, but god, he wouldn’t mind the entire crew watching him get a sloppy blowjob from pretty little you. he wouldnt even mind the entire crew watching him stroke his hard meaty cock if it meant you were watching. leans back and as casually as he can, he droops one arm over you. he’s afraid you might say something, anything, about his off behavior but you don’t; you lean into his touch. one hand so close to touching your tits and the other laid near his crotch. at first, its just little touches while he imagines how your pretty tits would feel, especially in his mouth. but within minutes, hes practically openly palming himself while imagining hes sucking on your tits. his mask is a savior for covering his flushed face. god, and he sees you looking over at him, staring him up and down, and he knows you see his big fat cock pushed against his pants. all you do is give a barely noticeable smile, and look away but he’s already cumming in his pants.

Price who finds your bold personality quite amusing. still calls you a rookie despite you being far from it. it’s a constant game of who can push the other off the edge with the two of you. you’ll visit his office in the later hours of the evening and plop yourself on the edge of his seat. the two of you are having the most mundane conversation, sharing a single chair while the sexual tension is screaming. he’ll move you onto his lap, you’re looking down at him and smiling, he’s looking up at you with a hand gripping your ass. he’s a bold bastard, leaning into your chest, pulling you closer to him until your basically straddling him. god, you’re really pushing his nerves. you should be flustered, an embarrassed mess at his perverted actions. but nooo you’re enjoying yourself, smiling. and lord, he’d be lying if he didn’t enjoy your teasing. now, the question is: how many late evening visits will it take for an overnight stay in the office?

#cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #pervy task force 141 #read tags!!#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #cheesy requests #1k+ notes yipee

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devilbrakers · 3 months

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tag people you want to get to know better

was tagged by @aztarion <3333 ily

tagging: @numbaoneflaya @time-is-a-lake @vvanessaives @celticwoman @mrs-theirin @dmc4 @gothimp @pinkfey @lucien-lachance @pitchmoss and anyone else who'd like to join!

last song: blue light by mazzy star

currently watching: nothing atm, really. i'm slowly chipping away at my to watch list but as predicted, it's taking forever 😭 i finished yellowjackets a little while ago tho

three ships: i'm not rly into shipping outside of oc/canon tbh! i'm not fixated on anything in particular atm </3

favorite color: orange :) like a sunset orange specifically

currently consuming: strawberry banana smoothie..

first ship: you'll have to waterboard that out of me

place of birth: maine usa

current location: still here 🚶

relationship status: single. like it that way 😌

last movie: i watched warm bodies with my friends idk how long ago. i also started almost famous forever ago but keep forgetting abt it

currently working on: a couple edits, some writing. edits are for demetria and elorin. and the writing is for my dmc ocs, mainly gray atm since i'm working some things out with their story again and i'm doing a rly good job at overcomplicating it 😎

the beast i spend my time with

#i'm sorry if you got tagged twice i accidentally posted it before i meant to 😭😭#i can never remember who likes being tagged in stuff like this </3 #tag #thank u jez <33

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toruro · 1 year

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love you twice — j. wonwoo x reader — part one

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

“so, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze. “i’m not avoiding you mr. jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. he takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "really?" wonwoo murmurs, "because i think you're lying." you both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. he steps away with a heavy breath. "i'm sorry. you can get going if you—" you aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his.

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), reader is jun's cousin, dirty talk, sexual tension, tension in general lol, unedited

w/c: 6.7k

a/n: this thought came to mind like once and i just *had* to write it because oh my god???? i hope u like reading this as much as i liked writing it! please reblog and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to me c:

“Fuck, yeah,” the pretty man above you grunts into your shoulder as he fucks into you, the drag of his fat cock against your gummy walls having you writhe in pleasure under him. Your fingers reach up and claw at his back, and if the digging of your nails into his skin is hurting, his only response is another deep, guttural groan of pleasure.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out when his thick tip is hitting that one spot which has your toes curling, throwing your head back into his mattress, weakly bringing your hips up to try and sync with his thrusts, encouraging him to go deeper, harder. “Right there—right—ah! There!”

He continues to batter his length into you after your pleas, muttering out words of praise—“good girl—fuck—holding me so tight, so good,” and the words are going through your ears and straight down to your hot, sopping core because holy hell this man is amazing at dirty talk.

You’re so fucked through that you can’t even remember how you ended up here—all you know is that you were finally left with a free night when your cousin offered to take care of Kei for the night when you expressed the need to have just a little time to yourself. The last thing that comes to your mind at the moment is how you were at a club and somehow managed to end up here, in the bed of an extremely attractive man who seems to know exactly what to do with his mouth, his hands, his dick.

It’s a passing thought that the shame will hit you eventually, but right now all you can think about is how long it’s been since you got laid and how you never, ever remember sex feeling this good. You aren’t sure if it’s just this guy that is amazing or if you’re just really needy and desperate but—oh fuck, he’s slamming into you so hard and there’s that pulse that rumbles deep inside of your core and it has you moaning loud. Okay so, it’s definitely the fact that he might be your best lay pretty much ever, and it has you squirming around as you babble, “‘m gonna cum—I—fuck, I’m cumming!”

The waves of hot, white pleasure hit you hard and it has tears welling up in your eyes as you feel him let out his own moan from the way you’re squeezing him so tight, the feeling of his warm cum filling up the condom as he thrusts into you a few last times. You two stay like that for a moment, his hands on either side of your head holding his body above yours, as you both inhale and exhale deeply trying to catch your spent breath.

After a minute, he’s pushing himself off of you and off the bed, pulling off the condom to throw it out without a word. You take this as your cue to get up and start picking up your clothes, squeaking a little as a dull ache resides in your legs. You catch him looking at you at the sound, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but in the dark of the room you can’t quite tell. As you lean down to slip on your panties, he finally speaks.

“You can use my shower, even if you don’t plan on staying.”

You glance up at him with a chuckle, saying, “You like keeping your one night stands over for breakfast? What a gentleman.” He rolls his, pulling on some pants as he does so.

“Is there something wrong with being hospitable to someone who looks like they can hardly walk?”

“I suppose not,” you hum, ignoring the flush of your cheeks at his sly comment. “I appreciate the offer, but I have to get home—I have someone waiting for me,” you explain, a small smile creeping its way onto your face as you think about Kei. He looks at you for a second, a confused and honestly slightly mortified expression donning his face. Your eyes widen as you realize what that must have sounded like, and you throw up your hands and shake your head. “I don’t mean it like that—I—fuck—I’m not cheating on anyone! I meant something else!”

He gives you a funny look, replying, “I’ll choose to trust you on that, for the sake of my own sanity. I wouldn’t want to know that I’m the cause of a failed marriage or something.”

You grumble as you pull on your shirt, checking your pockets and purse to see if there’s anything missing. “No failed marriages here,” you laugh, tone slightly bitter before you brush it off. “Anyways, you should choose to trust me because I am telling the truth,” you counter as he watches you make your way to the exit. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, since I probably won’t see you again.”

“Too bad,” he grins as you approach his apartment’s door, slipping on your shoes. “That was fun.”

You inwardly bite your cheek at his shamelessness, looking away. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I guess,” you huff nonchalantly. “Anyways, thank you for this night. I kind of really needed this,” you admit, and then you’re slipping out of the door before he even has a chance to respond.

When you return to your apartment, you’re greeted by Jun at the door, lips somewhat in a grimace as you find Kei asleep in his arms. “Sorry, he kept saying he wanted to wait for you and he wouldn’t go to sleep so I tried to put on some show for him but then he fell asleep on my lap but I didn’t want to move until you came back,” he explains as he braces Kei under the arms so he can hand him over to you.

“Aw,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to your son's forehead as you look up at Jun. “Thank you so much for this, Jun, it really means a lot.”

He brings a hand up to the back of his neck and chuckles, waving his hand at you. “Don’t worry about it. I know you needed this,” he says, following you to your bedroom to help you set up the bed for Kei. “I got him to brush his teeth and all, so all that stuff is in set. Is there anything else you need help with?” he offers as you finish up tucking Kei into bed, walking out of the room as you shut off the lights.

“No, I think it’s okay,” you tell him honestly, leaning against the kitchen counter to catch up with Jun for a few minutes.

“Okay well, d’you have fun?” Jun asks, and he doesn’t give you the chance to respond before saying, “Seems like you did,” he snickers, pointing to your neck. Your hands fly up to your neck with wide eyes as you remember that your fuck buddy for the night was quite literally all over you.

“Whatever,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “it’s just one night, and I swear I just needed to let loose a little.” You sigh deeply, and Jun sends you a look of sympathy.

“Everything alright?”

Your shoulders slump as rest your weight on the counter, leaning into Jun has he wraps a shoulder around your arm comfortingly. "It's just—ugh—Kei is starting first grade in two days and I just...I don't know how to feel."

"That makes sense," Jun agrees, "but it's good that he got into that school you'd been trying to get him into, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh again. "Fuck, that was really hard—I had to beg that principal to let him in 'cause they were full and it was a pain in the ass, but it is a really good school so I guess it makes sense." Jun hums in response, encouraging you to go on. "I guess it's just that I'm worried for him? It's only been me and him, you know, so I'm nervous. I know it's a good school, I just hope he's gonna be in good hands."

"Trust me, Kei is an amazing kid, so he'll be able to thrive anywhere. And if the school isn't up to your liking, you always have the option of transferring him out—after all, he's only in first grade so switching schools shouldn't be a problem," Jun explains to you, leaving your side to bring you a glass of water.

"Thank you," you say honestly as you gulp it down. “I think I needed that.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about? You know I’m always open ears.”

You throw Jun a smile as you push yourself off the counter. “Yeah, I know, and I appreciate you for that, but honestly, all I need right now is to change into my pajamas and crash into the bed,” you tell him as he slips on his shoes at the doorway, picking up his backpack.

“Alright, alright. Let me know if you need any help or anything. I’m gonna get going now.”

“Thank you again,” you say as you open the door for him. Jun smiles and waves at you, bidding goodnight before he’s walking down the hallway and out of your sight. Once you close the door behind you, you waste no time getting into your bathroom and rinsing your body off, slipping into a much more comfortable set of clothes.

It's around ten minutes later when you're finally done with cleaning yourself and the room up one last time before crawling into the bed next to Kei. As you pull the covers over you both, you feel the exhaustion from the entire day fully engulf you, and before you know it, you're being thrown into a deep slumber.

The next day is Sunday and you spend each minute biting your nails and stressing over anything and everything. Kei’s going to be going to an actual school for the first time ever tomorrow and you can’t help but notice a buzzing instinct that something—just something—unexpected will happen. You can’t quite place your suspicions on something just yet, but the thoughts have you going crazy to the point where you have to call Jun in the night so he can calm you down.

“What if—what if—?” your frantic thoughts are cut off by Jun.

“Okay look I know you’re stressed but maybe you’re making this harder on yourself than it needs to be. You’ve thought of everything and like maybe 0.01% of the scenarios are actually even feasible, so trust me when I say nothing’s going to go wrong.

“But what if—”

“No what if’s!” Jun exclaims exasperatedly, “or else I’m going to come and take Kei to school myself tomorrow because god knows you’re not in the right mind right now.”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll stop!” you surrender in defeat, sighing as Kei comes up to you to show you a drawing he made. “I’m gonna get back to making dinner, Jun,” you say through the phone before squatting down.

“Okay, talk to you later. Try not to lose your mind,” Jun advises, causing you to chuckle as you hang hup, turning your full attention to your son.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly, patting his head as he looks down at the paper in his hands. “What’cha have there?” you ask curiously, scooching closer as he holds up the paper.

“It’s the new school, Mommy,” he explains, holding up a colored drawing of a school and a stick figure of you with an (adorably) abnormally large head holding the hand of a stick figure of him. “An’ there’s you an’ there’s me!”

Your heart swells as you stand up holding the paper, using a magnet to put it up on the fridge. “I love it Kei, you’re such a good artist!” you exclaim, swooping down to pick him up. “You excited for school tomorrow?”

“Yeah!”

“Your teacher’s name’s gonna be Mr. Jeon okay? That’s what the principal told me,” you tell him carefully, setting him down at his elevated seat at the dinner table. “Be nice to him okay? You need to respect teachers.”

“Yes Mommy,” Kei nods along enthusiastically as he watches you go to the kitchen and bring him some rice and curry.

“You remember the plan? I’ll drop you off but I don’t think I can stay long enough to go with you inside ‘cause I have work, okay?” Kei only half-mindedly nods his head as he dives into the food that you’ve set for him, but you don’t have the heart to blame him—after all, this is probably the fifth time you repeated this to him today. “I’ll be there right after school ends though,” you tell him, reminding yourself of the parent-teacher meeting Kei’s teacher had arranged to introduce himself to the parents.

“Okay,” Kei responds, his mouth stuffed with rice and curry smeared on his chin. He looks up at you innocently and you can’t help but giggle, his smile washing all your worries away.

As you clean up his face, you remind yourself of Jun’s words from earlier. Everything’s going to be okay.

And for the most part, everything is okay. In fact, everything’s going great, from Kei’s smooth drop off at his new school, to when you set foot on campus with five minutes to spare before the teacher meeting. There’s a big fat grin plastered on your face as you realize that maybe your hunch that something was going to go wrong was nothing more than that—just a hunch.

Now this is the part where you think you should have known better.

Once the final school bell rings, there are students rushing out of classrooms as you among a few other parents gather around the room that is 103, waiting to see your children and their teacher. As you all form in a line by the door, there’s a slightly older woman standing next to you wearing a kind smile.

“Are you here to see Mr. Jeon?” she asks you. Her warmth grows on you as you smile and nod.

“Yes! I assume you are too?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “I’ve been so excited! He’s a fairly young teacher, you know?”

“Is that so so,” you murmur, “my son is new to the school and all, so we aren’t really familiar with any of the teachers. Does Mr. Jeon have a good reputation?”

The lady shrugs. “I’ve heard he’s quite good with the kids, but I’d hope he was since he’s a first grade teacher…” she jokes. “I haven’t heard anything bad about him, if that’s what you’re asking. What I have heard though, is that he is quite nice to look at!”

You let out a small chuckle at that, amused by the idea of a man who has the parents of his students gossiping about his looks.

“Oh!” the lady exclaims, straightening her back. “Looks like they’re about to come!”

You peer over the shoulder of the father of another student in front of you, watching as the door opens slowly and a rush of Kei-sized children run out. Your smile brightens as your eyes land on your son, calling out his name so that he can run up to you and into your lifting arms. Picking him up, you have time to observe the obvious grin he has plastered on his face, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” you say sweetly. “How was your first day of school?”

“It was so much fun Mommy! Mr. Jeon says he’s gonna talk to all of you,” he said, pointing at all the other adults greeting their kids.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you tell him, setting him down. You’re about to say something else before you hear a deep, familiar voice—it hardly takes you a second to realize who it is, and you freeze in your tracks. Your face grows pale as you brace yourself for what you’re about to see and hear—you’re lucky you’re standing in the back so he can’t see you and the million thoughts that are evidently running through your mind..

“Hello everyone, I’m glad you could make it today. I’m Jeon Wonwoo, and as you know, I’m your child’s teacher. I’m excited to start things off on a high note. You can have your child play on the playground during the meeting, since we still have our supervisors out to watch them."

Mr. Jeon. Jeon Wonwoo. Wonwoo. Him .

You should have known that your mother instincts were too accurate—the universe just had to throw you a curveball. You chew on your tongue for a moment figuring out how to handle this situation as you lean down closer to Kei, nodding to him when he looks over at you for permission to follow his newly-made friends to the playground. Taking a deep breath as you watch Kei skip away, you glance over at him , who luckily hasn’t seemed to notice you.

Straightening your back as all of the young kids happily follow each other outside, the hallway is finally only left with him and the parents. “Okay, you guys can come in, I’ve made room for you all to stand around the back since I doubt any of you will fit into your child’s chair,” Mr. Jeon jokes, and while most others laugh, there’s a pit of anxiety gnawing at your stomach that has you going stiff. He moves aside a little, making way for the parents to enter the classroom and greeting each one individually.

Suddenly your breath is caught in your throat and you glance around you, excusing yourself from the lady next to you so you can shuffle to the back of the line, pretending to look through something in your purse. You aren’t even sure what you’re trying to do, but all you know is that you just need a moment to collect yourself, your thoughts. Luck must not be on your side though, as before you know it, the last person in front of you has entered the classroom leaving you dead in your tracks and staring at Mr. Jeon , who’s eyes haven’t turned fully towards you yet.

Maybe this is your last chance to run , you think quickly, but you remind yourself that embarrassing or not, this is for Kei and you’d be damned to miss this meeting. That and the fact that maybe you’re just a little happy that you’re seeing this attractive man again and— no! You scold yourself, don’t think like that!

You shake yourself of such dirty, such inappropriate thoughts when you finally catch his eyes landing on you. That’s when you see it‚ the way his eyes widen slightly as he takes in your figure. He recognizes you, you’re sure of it. His hand is already reaching out to shake yours but it stops midway as you both take a moment to stare at each other before he’s quickly clearing his throat and looking away for a second.

“H-hi,” he says, pursing his lips together after realizing he fucking stuttered. “Nice to meet you. You must be Kei’s mother?” he asks, avoiding the fat fucking elephant in the room. You shyly reach out and shake his hand, fruitlessly trying to ignore the memory of these very fingers being plunged knuckle deep inside of you less than two nights ago.

“Um, yeah, that’s me,” you reply quieter than you want, suddenly finding it unable to meet his gaze as the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. “Nice to meet you too. Kei’s been, um, excited to start school here,” you say louder as you try to avert your attention away from what you’re both thinking about, “so I hope you can make his time here a good one.” Mr. Jeon presses his lips into a smile and you want to bash your head into the wall at how sincere he looks.

“I’ll do my best,” he says, before raising a brow and pointing toward the room. You follow his direction and stand by the other parents who are lined up at the back of the classroom, Mr. Jeon following in behind you and making his way to the front of the classroom.

From there the meeting begins, and he goes over a small presentation over the daily activities of his class, classroom expectations, and such forth. You pay attention to the best of your ability, you really do, but sometimes you find your eyes drifting away from the projector screen and toward his arms that are on show with his short sleeve shirt, your mind trailing off to a place that it definitely shouldn’t. You catch yourself quickly though, mentally reprimanding yourself and turning your attention back to the presentation.

He finishes up the meeting with a list of his contacts and you quickly bring out your phone, along with others, to list down his email and phone number (only for the reason of Kei’s education, of course). “If you have any questions, you can ask me now. If not, you’re free to go!” There’s a series of “thank you’s” that echo through the room as some approach Mr. Jeon and others, like you, shuffle out of the classroom. You can’t lie, your steps are quick and you’re nearly running out of the room so fast that you don’t catch the way his eyes linger on your back as you exit.

“He said I’m a great artist! We did some coloring and he said my flower looked really nice.”

“Well he didn’t lie,” you tell your son as you pull up to the parking lot for your apartment complex. “You are a great artist, Kei,” you say as you get out of your seat and pull your work bag with you, then help Kei get out too. “Tell you what Kei-Kei—you want to go to a restaurant tonight?”

The way his smile is so bright and infectious when he’s nodding yes has you leaning down and squeezing him into a hug as you both make your way to your apartment. The rest of the evening is spent with you cleaning Kei up and finishing up your own work—now that Kei isn’t going to full day care, you’re going to have to go to work for half the day so you can pick him up, leaving more work for you in the evenings.

Tonight, you’re determined to finish up your work quickly so you can take yourself and Kei out to dinner at some burger joint as a celebration for his first day of school. By the time you’re home, Kei is exhausted and nearly falling asleep in your arms as you carry him up. Setting him down and tucking him into bed is the last thing you do before going to the living room and sinking down into your couch, sighing out of your own fatigue.

You’d think you don’t have enough energy to think about anything else, but once you’ve cleaned up and are trudging to crash onto your bed, those thoughts are creeping up your back.

Jeon Wonwoo.

You roll around under your sheets, pressing your face into the pillow as you mumble incoherent curses. It was only a one night stand, only a casual fuck, so why are you here still thinking about him? For fuck’s sake he’s Kei’s teacher! You just can’t be having such thoughts about him! Right?

So why are you squirming under the sheets thinking about that night—the way he made you feel things you never could even imagine feeling. “Fuck!” you mutter to yourself, slamming a pillow over your head. You huff lowly, rolling over in your bed, pressing your eyes shut as you hope that if you pretend that you’re asleep hard enough, your brain will actually lull your consciousness away. And for a moment, it works—you’re asleep within a few minutes.The only downside? You may or may not be dreaming about Jeon Wonwoo.

The rest of the week is, thankfully, slightly easier on your heart. You only really go to Kei’s school to pick him and thanks to the valet system in place, you often don’t even have to get out of the car, one of the older volunteer students always helping him into your car.

Kei seems to be having the time of his life as well, always coming back home with saying something along the lines of, “Mommy, today Mr. Jeon taught us this really cool thing…” or “Mommy, Rei and I made up this new game at recess…”—least to say, you’re enthralled that he’s having a good time, and you almost forget about how his teacher haunts your thoughts every night.

It’s Friday now and as promised, you stay behind after school today so you can watch Kei play with his friends for some time on the playground. You’re on your phone, scrolling through some work emails to mentally calculate just how much you’ll have to work tonight to ensure a relaxing weekend. You're in the midst of frowning when you see a shadow approach you from the corner of your vision, although you pay it no mind. At least, not until you hear his voice.

“Hey.” It’s deep and calm and has you thrown back into those thoughts that you've been so desperately trying to avoid. You’re hyper aware of his figure next to you, and the way that his shoulders, his arms, feel so large and protective next to you is driving you fucking crazy.

“Oh,” you murmur in surprise, turning to look at him. “Hi Mr. Jeon,” you greet awkwardly, keeping a bit of distance between you two as you slip your phone into your purse, “it’s nice to see you here.”

He nods. “The feeling’s mutual,” he tells you, and although you figure it’s just a formality, the way he says it with that small smile tugging at his lips has your stomach doing tumbles. “You can call me Wonwoo, by the way.”

“O-okay Wonwoo,” you reply nervously as the air between you thickens, as if you’re both egging each other on seeing who’s going to fold first. You clear your throat before speaking again, “How’s Kei doing in your class? Is there anything I can do at home to help him?”

“Not at all. He’s a good student,” Wonwoo—god, his name sounds so nice in your head—replies almost immediately. “He’s really good at drawing, I’ve noticed.” Wonwoo notices how your face lights up at that comment, the tension on your shoulder dropping slightly as you respond.

“Yeah, he loves to draw at home. I’ve been thinking of putting him in an art class or something where he can practice and stuff,” you explain, eyes flickering over at Kei who’s sliding down some slide with another boy.

“That would be nice,” Wonwoo agrees, and once again the silence returns.

“I should get going now,” you say after a few moments, pulling your phone out to pretend like you’re checking the time. “Kei-Kei!” you call out, and it only takes a few seconds before your son is bounding down the playground and up to you as you crouch down. “Hey buddy, it’s time to go,” you tell him.

“But I wanna play Mommy!”

“Kei-Kei, please? I have to work tonight and you’ve played for almost an hour now.”

He’s frowning deeply and you find yourself almost caving in, but before you do, Wonwoo is speaking. “Listen to your mom, Kei, okay?” His voice is stern yet gentle, and the way Kei’s face softens has relief coursing through your veins.

“Okay Mr. Jeon,” Kei agrees, taking your hand as you stand up. You look at Wonwoo with gratitude.

“Thank you for that,” you say quietly, slightly embarrassed. “We’ll get going now.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wonwoo says casually, pushing his hands into his pocket and stepping back. You’re walking away as you say bye, Kei flashing a grin at Wonwoo as he waves him goodbye. “See you later,” Wonwoo calls out to you. “Hopefully,” he adds and you swear he chuckles when he here’s you choke in shock. You don’t look back out of the humiliation that your cheeks are burning, tugging Kei along as he goes on about the new game he’s made up with his friends.

Jeon Wonwoo might just be the death of you.

The first month of Kei’s school continues to go smoothly. You don’t come across Wonwoo much after that, although that may partly be due to you avoiding him. It’s not as if you dislike him, in fact, it’s quite the opposite—you think you might like him too much.

His face, his glasses, his smile—fuck—the way he’s so kind, so gentle—you can’t seem to find a single thing wrong with him. Everyday Kei comes home babbling a new happy story about Mr. Jeon and what he taught the class, or a new compliment he gave him, and you can’t help but fall for him simply through the words of your son.

It is a little embarrassing, if you’re being honest—having a crush on a man at your big age—but you just can’t help it.

As the month progresses, you find both yourself and Kei get used to things—he seems to enjoy going to school every morning and you enjoy the happy smiles he holds when he returns. Everything seems to fall into a perfect pattern, with nothing seeming to go wrong. Well…that is, at least, until this Friday.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” you exclaim, knuckles white as you grip the steering wheel, glancing at the time on your dashboard. Your last meeting ended up longer than you planned but you couldn’t leave, given it was with executives, and now you’re stuck in traffic as you’re already late to pick up Kei. “Ugh,” you groan out, trying to peer over the cars in front of you only to realize that you might be stuck here for a bit.

You’re slightly frantic trying to figure out what you’re going to do—any other day you would have called Jun and asked him to pick Kei up for you, but he’s on a trip with his friend so that isn’t an option right now. Chewing on your bottom lip, you glance at the unmoving traffic and pull out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. You don’t think twice before hitting the contant labeled Mr. Jeon, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the other end pick up your call.

“Hello, Mr. Jeon?” you say quickly when you hear some shuffling on the other side. “This is Kei’s mom.”

He says your name softly before asking, “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yes, I’m really sorry, but I think Kei might be waiting for me at the valet but I’m stuck in traffic and I—fuck—” you mutter when you need to slam the breaks hard. “—sorry for my language—I just don’t know how long it’ll take for me to pick him up and I don’t want him to wait for me too long so I was hoping that there was something you could do so he could wait in the office or something—anything really—just so he can wait somewhere safer while I come,” you blabber.

Wonwoo takes a few seconds to reply, and for a moment you think you might have spoken so quickly that he didn’t hear a single thing you said. “He can stay in my room, if that’s okay with you,” he finally says, and you blink a few times.

“I—really? Tha-that’s definitely okay with me, yeah. That would be amazing, thank you so much Mr. Je—Wonwoo. Thank you,” you ramble, shutting up quickly when you hear a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Yes really. Don’t worry about it, I usually stay in the class after school anyways. You said he’s in the valet?”

“Yes, he usually waits by the tree,” you tell him, and a silence can be heard from Wonwoo as he gets up from his seat. “Thank you again, I’ll come as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he replies, and with that you hang up, leaning back in your seat as you feel you can finally relax now.

It takes you around another 25 minutes before you’re finally pulling up to the school's parking lot, quickly making your way through the familiar route to Kei’s classroom. Knocking on the door, you peer through the small glass window, insides growing warm and fuzzy at the scene of Kei happy drawing on a desk. It takes a few seconds but then there’s a hand on the knob, opening the door for you.

“Thank you so much,” you let out before you can even see all of Wownoo’s figure.

He laughs and holy hell is it one attractive laugh (since when did you start finding laughs attractive?!). “Stop saying thank you, please,” he groans jokingly. “I might just start feeling bad. Seriously, it’s no problem, I’m usually here for a while anyway and Kei is wonderful company.”

You purse your lips, tentatively stepping into the room as Wonwoo moves for you, arm brushing against yours as you approach Kei. “Hey Kei-Kei, you wanna go now?”

Kei turns to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “But Mr. Jeon said I could play outside if I wanted!” You turn your head to look at Wonwoo, raising a brow.

“Uh, since the supervisors are still out I said he could play in a bit since I didn’t know when you were going to come,” he explains, and your gaze softens, turning back to your son.

“Okay Kei-Kei, but only fifteen minutes, okay?” you tell him, helping him clean up as Kei makes his way out the door and towards the playground. After putting his stuff away, you pick up his bag and head in the same direction as Kei to follow him, pausing when you feel a hand on your wrist.

“You can stay here, you know?” Wonwoo tells you, a smirk playing at his lips. “I don’t bite.”

You plaster a sympathetic smile through your nervousness, hastily replying, “I know, I just—I’ve already bothered you today and I think I should just head off now.”

“You aren’t bothering me.”

“Okay well,” you counter as you make your way to the door, “what if I just really want to watch my son have fun?”

“You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?”

“So, you’re just going to pretend like you aren’t avoiding me?” Wonwoo asks with a brow raised, pointing an accusing finger in your direction. Heat flourishes at the tip of your ears as you turn away from his gaze.

“I'm not avoiding you Mr. Jeon,” you mutter, suddenly realizing you’ve just been caught in his trap. He takes a step forward and you back up against the wall as he leans in so his lips are ghosting your ear. "Really?" Wonwoo murmurs, "Because I think you're lying." You both stay like that for a few moments before coming to your senses. He steps away with a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. You can get going if you—"

You aren't sure what possesses you in that moment but you just can't allow him to finish what he's saying, grabbing him by the collar and slamming your lips on his. Wonwoo’s arms fly up to your face and cup your cheeks, immediately running his tongue along your lips. The familiar taste of his tongue sliding against yours is something that you thought you wouldn’t experience after that night, but having him with you, right now, like this is enough to have your mind racing—he’s so fucking addicting that you can’t even fathom how you went more than a day without him.

Wonwoo's grasp on your face has you tilting your face, noses brushing past each other as you deepen the kiss, your fingers lacing in his thick locks to hold him close. His lips move so effortlessly against yours you'd even go as far to say you two were dancing, as you stumble back into the wall. Wonwoo presses you against the surface and you let out a gasp as he leans down, kissing you so hard and passionately that it might just suck the air out of you.

And it probably does, considering when you finally pull away from each other you’re gasping for air both from just how long Wonwoo’s lips stayed connected to yours, along with how breathtakingly amazing of a kisser he is. He looks down at you with some sort of sparkling look in his eyes and it has you weak in the knees, gripping onto his hair tighter.

He lets out a low grunt at the action and holy fuck the sound is doing things to you but then you’re both reminded of where you are and what you’re doing and then Wonwoo is stepping back as you let go of him, putting some space between you two. His glasses are slightly foggy and he takes them off to rub the moisture away on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—” You reach for his hand, cutting him off.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, somewhat bashful of your own actions as you look down, “We both did that so uh…don’t apologize.” Wonwoo looks up at you and then back down at your hand holding his, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Okay,” he says gently, reaching for his phone in his pocket. “Can I, uh, get your number? I only have it saved on the school phone…” he asks hopefully, looking up at you as he uses one hand to smooth his ruffled hair, the other holding up his phone in your direction.

Your lips are pressed into a tight smile as you try to hide your cheeky grin. “Of course,” you say maybe a little too quickly, punching in your digits and handing it back to him. A silence settles between you two, but it isn’t uncomfortable like before, no, it’s rather…warm now.

“I…” Wonwoo starts to admit, “…never thought I’d end up in a situation like this.” You giggle and nod your head in agreement. “But, um, I’d like to see where this goes.”

“I like the sound of that,” you reply with a smile, and it's the truth—your stomach tumbles with a good feeling that things might just go your way.

a/n: hope u liked it! i'm super duper excited for this story and was literally kicking my feet writing this so you can expect a part 2 quite soon! in the meantime, please like, comment, and reblog! send me an ask or comment if you'd like to be tagged in part 2!

pt.2

#jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #📝 writing

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ghostheartfelt · 10 months

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Hiiii! First of all I hope you're doing well <333 and second omg!! I loved your ghost smut 😭😭 I'm here to request smt if you don't mind, I've requested this before but nobody wanted to write it but feel free to not wrote it too if you don't like the plot but here we go:

Ghost breaks up with reader NOT because he hates her but because his next mission is really hard and dangerous and there was a really slim chance that he'd survive it. So he tries to push reader away to not hurt her feelings but things escalated and they break up but when he comes back from the mission they have make-up sex? 🤭 Thank you for reading all of this and if you can't write it then I understand, thank you for your time and effort 💗

*:･｡☆ a/n: hi anon~ thank you so much for being my first req!!!! And thank u so much for the support. I’m so sorry i took forever to get to this! but you bet ur sweet ass i’ll write this for you?! I hope you enjoy this regardless of how long it took me to get to it. mwah! -ur bbg cure

〔☆〕 desc: ghost is deployed on a mission in bangladesh that price explains as risky and complicated--ghost immediately thinks of you as the possibilities of survival are described as slim. him, gaz, and soap set out back to manchester, and no amount of talk is able to change his mind. he ends things off between the two of you, which arises a depressive state in you before he arrives and makes it up to you completely. (possibly takes place before ten minutes past?…. 👀)

*:･｡☆ tags: p in v, unprotected intercourse, whiny ghost if you squint, hand job if you squint, oral (f receiving), fingering, reader orgasms twice, cock warming, he sleeps with the tip inside<3, this hurt my breeding kink heart, pet names, possessive ghost, breast worship if you squint, break up and make up sex, porn with feelings. SMUTTY SMUT SMUT!!! not too bad, sadly.

—✩ N[EX]T REGRETS ✩—

word count — 4.3k

☆ (peep the song that inspires this writing...) ☆

Your hands are setting two plates on the dinner table; one for you, one for your boyfriend.

He was coming home from deployment—it’d been months since you’d last seen him, you’d lost track.

Silverware wrapped in cloth napkins are set beside the plates before you flick the cog of a lighter and ignite the candles in the middle of the table.

You turn yourself around to grab the cookie sheet of ribeye off of the counter after pushing on mittens, holding it in your palm as you place two steaks down onto one of the plates, then one onto another.

Then you take the tray back to the counter and set it back on top of the table cloth so it didn’t damage the marble.

Regardless of the fancy dinner setup, you were still in a black satin night dress and fuzzy socks. You knew Simon would just dress down himself the moment he got home.

You scooped steamed vegetables onto both plates, then potatoes and gravy with a sprinkle of chives.

When you place down the spineless wine glasses, you hear a heavy door slam causing a smile to crease your face.

Simon was home, he was going to come inside and he was going to hold you again for the first time in months. Run his hands through your hair for the first time in months. Kiss you for the first time in months.

You seat yourself gently on the dinner table, ankle crossed over the other with your elbows bent and palms pressed neatly on the wood as you wait for him to come inside.

You hear the door open, then shut, heavy padded footsteps approaching the threshold of the dining room.

Ghost is the one who comes through the archway—fully geared with the skull mask and helmet, the only thing he lacks is a rifle.

“Simon…?” You push yourself off your palms, confusion whisked on your face.

It was one of your rules, the mask stays off inside your home.

His eyes land on the neatly set table before they reach yours.

You approach him slowly and he tenses, your eyebrows stitching together in concern.

His stomach twists inside of him.

Gorgeous minx.

Absolutely breathtaking.

Beautiful perfection.

He couldn’t say anything he wanted to—and god he had so much to say.

Your eyes flicker to the windows alongside the front door seeing two other bodies.

Armed bodies.

He wasn’t staying.

“Can you all stay for dinner atleast? I made enough for everyone…” you smile softly while fumbling with the straps of his vest.

Stop touching me, you’re making this harder on me. Ghost swallows the knot in his throat.

There’s a pause before Ghost backs up.

“There’s someone else.”

It’s a lie, it’s a lie. It’s such a lie. Ghost

Something inside your chest tightens and you swear that it’s your heart.

“What?…” You scoff lightly, your eyebrows pinching together in disbelief.

Don’t make me say it again. Ghost inhales sharply.

“Simon…” you tilt your head slightly, extending your hand to touch him.

“Please, let me try to be better for you, give me a chance…” your lips quiver.

You don’t need to try and be better for me. Ghost thinks.

He knew you’d been reading articles on how to be in a relationship with someone in the special forces—he’d found out and closed the lid, sat you in his lap and kissed you so softly, telling you that you were perfect for him and you didn’t need an article to tell you how to love him.

But you know it’s real when Ghost jerks his shoulder away.

You know it’s real when you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood as tears start welling in your eyes.

You know it’s real when Ghost’s eyes evade yours.

You know it’s real when Simon turns around and he doesn’t spare you a goodbye.

You especially know it’s real when the door slams shut and rattles the walls around you.

It’s surreal, but you expected this.

He must’ve found someone on base, you thought.

You feel your knees give in beneath you, and you’re met with the floor.

A hysterical sobbed scream leaves your throat as your trembling hand lifts to drag down at your lips.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

Ghost stands for a moment on the doormat outside of your home.

Gaz’s hand finds a place on his back, the other holding his vest as he guides the larger male towards the truck they’d arrived in.

“Didn’t have to do that, Ghost.” He says, followed by a sigh.

“Did.” Ghost replies back as he seats himself in the back. “Wasn’t lettin’ her get my dog tags—she’s been through enough bein’ with me.”

Soap turns his head over his shoulder after sitting in the front passenger seat.

“Ay, L.T, we all know y’ll make it back t’ya pretty lass.” He says. “Y’r one of we bes’ fighters, ain’t that righ’, Kyle?” Soap’s elbow bumped into Gaz’s ribs.

Gaz utters a strained noise before nodding, hands wrapping around the wheel.

“‘M not takin’ that risk, now shu’up ‘n drive. Cap’s gon’ ‘b pissy enough.”

His head turns to look out the window as he feels the wheels of the truck roll down the driveway.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

It’s been seven months. Two-hundred-thirteen days.

All you do is work, eat, and sleep.

Eating, not as much as you should.

You couldn’t cook, couldn’t get yourself up from your bed the second you got home from work to start the stove.

You either sleep all day or not at all, there wasn’t a balance.

God, your living room was disgusting. Snot tissues were littered across the entire coffee table, empty champagne glasses, crusted food plates and crushed soda cans.

You’d resorted to hiring a maid just to clean your living room—which was the only room you stayed in for five months straight while your depression started getting progressively worse.

You lay on your side with a weighted blanket draped over you, holding you down comfortably.

Simon stayed in your head, even after half of a year. He invaded your head. It drove you insane.

At the same time, you were scared of the day that he wouldn’t be your first and last thought each and every day anymore.

You bunch the blanket closer to your chin, your wet eyes have drenched the little area to hell.

Things just have never been the same since Simon left the house–-you still happened to feel his presence next to you, hovering over you.

“There’s someone else.” His words settled an uneasy weight on your shoulders that you still were unable to shake off.

A splutter of sobs escapes you once again, tears blurring your vision as they fall and your nose starts to clog.

You try to breathe in, but you feel as though there’s not enough air around you. You breaking into a coughing fit is enough for you to push the weighted blanket off of your body and heave yourself up.

Spit and drool creates several small strings between your lips–you’re practically foaming at the mouth from how hard you’re crying.

Tears flutter off your eyelashes and further blur your vision, so you try and rub at your eyes with the heels of your palms desperately.

You stand up wobbly and start towards the bathroom, you didn’t have the energy to walk the extra couple of steps into your bedroom to use your own bathroom, so the guest bathroom would have to do for now.

You turn the shower knob and pull it out towards you after undressing, then step into the warmth and sink onto the shower floor, hugging your knees to your bare chest and letting the water run over your face.

Sobs cause your body to twitch and jerk, the heat in your eyes making your eyes burn as your breathing grows unsteady over the stream of water above you.

You just wanted him home.

But, he wasn’t yours to want home anymore.

He wasn’t yours to crave anymore or to love.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

A door slams so hard air causes the fabric of his shirt to flail in the wind.

Ghost had spent months struggling with the actions of his decision, where he had hoped that the choice would break you free of your shackles of worries when it came to the blonde when he was away.

He spent every night and every rising morning worrying someone would take his place. It would’ve been his fault, he knew that, and it made him want to scream at the top of his lungs until they felt raw in his chest.

He presses the lock button on his keys, hearing the locks inside the jeep click, then he jumbles with his keychain looking for the house key.

Ghost’s hands are shaking as he pinches the specific key and jabs it into the door lock, turning it.

When he hears the all-familiar click, he immediately pulls off his balaclava and pushes himself through the front door.

There’s silence–pure silence throughout the house except for the sound of running water.

She’s showering.

A short amount of relief washes over him as he bends to untie the laces of his boots, placing them aside.

When he stands, his eyes scan over to the living room and he feels his heart sink in him at the sight of the absolute mess made of the living room.

An overflowing laundry basket and take-out boxes that made the room stink of old fried rice.

He throws his bag behind him against the wall before he walks himself towards the pile of laundry and begins pulling out shirts and pairs of pants to fold against his knee.

☆════━━━┈┈┈┈━━━════☆

You took a two hour shower, most of it being of you shredding any form of emotion from your body that you could.

Now you were sitting on the fur-covered toilet seat, running your lotion-coated hands along your freshly shaven legs.

You told yourself you would try going to a club to replenish your sex deprivation.

Steam finally clears from the mirror allowing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hands pull the towel off your head, wet hairs sticking to your shoulders.

The bathroom smelt of your coconut milk shampoo and body wash–it smelt divine.

You thumb up your white laced bra and panties, plug in the blow dryer and scrunch your mop in your hands as you wave the blow dryer over your hair.

It seems like hours, being only nearly ten minutes until your hair is somewhat dry, but your arms are tired, so you unplug the dryer and wrap the cord around it.

You leave the bathroom and walk back into the living room, pausing in motion at the sight of it being clean–your laundry being neatly folded on the coffee table.

“Kris? Is that you?” You call, not too loudly.

She had a key to your home, but she had stated she wouldn’t be available this week due to some personal reasons she wasn’t required to go over with you.

You walk over towards the couch and drag your hand along the cotton material.

There was no reply to your call, which concerned you. You hadn't contacted any of your family members to come visit.

You slowly turn yourself around and the breath is practically stolen from your lungs.

Simon’s standing across the room from you, clad in a black t-shirt and jeans, a belt secured in the front.

You watch his eyes drag up and down your exposed body, watching as he inhales sharply while his eyes narrow.

“Love,” He mumbles.

Your eyebrows furrow and you lift your neck up. “Why–why are you here?” “Will y’let me explain?” He sighs.

“Does she know?” You reply quickly with a shaky voice.

“Does wh–”

“Does she know you are here, Simon.”

There's silence, then he licks his dry lips.

“There is no she.” He says flatly.

“No,” you scoff, running a hand down your face, eyes darting to the side as you listen to him walk closer toward you. “No…no. No–I remember specifically…” your angry, now.

Simon catches your lips in a firm kiss, but you push him away, and the look in his eyes makes your chest ache.

“Please,” Simon’s eyebrows pinch together.

“Stop, just stop.” You seethe, pressing your finger into the midsection of his chest making him back up some. “You said there was someone else, you said–”

“I was lyin’, there wasn’t.” He pauses, frowning.

“Bullshit,” you shake your head. “Fucking bullshit, Simon Riley!”

“Let m’talk.” Simon says gruffly, his tone stern.

You swallow thickly and lower your head in defeat after nodding, finger lifting so you can chew on your cuticle bed.

“I…I let a debriefing get t’me. Said there wasn’t much’a chance of survival–can’t say much, y’know that…but I didn’t want y’to have to go through that.” He explains.

His hand reaches down to lift your chin, thumbing at any stray tears making their way down your cheeks. “Forgive me, lovie.” Simon leans down to close the gap between you both again, this time you submit and his hand cradles the back of your head.

The kiss is slow and passionate–gentle with its hints of dominance.

“Missed you…” He mumbles over your lips, hands finding your ass to knead the supple skin.

You gasp slightly, but cave in to his touch instantly. “And I missed you…”

“Please…never do that again.”

His forehead rests on yours a moment, fingers toying in your hair by rolling pieces between his fingers.

“‘M sorry.” He murmurs.

He wasn’t the type to apologize, you knew that. His apologies were sincere and meaningful.

Your hands grip his shirt.

“Over half a year, Simon…” Your voice is so low, you couldn’t even call it a whisper. “This whole time…”

“I know…I know…” He mutters into your hair, taking in your scent.

“Will y’let me make it up to ya, love?” Hot breath rakes over the side column of your neck.

You simply nod, and that’s all enough for him to pick you up by your thighs and for you to wrap your legs around his waist and rut against him.

He guides you both into your bedroom, seating you on the edge of the bed.

“So fuckin’ sexy when y’r half-naked ‘n angry…” Simon chuckles dryly as he drags a finger up your clothed cunt.

“Simon…please…” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I’ve got’ya, gorgeous.” He says cooly while laying you flat on the bed.

Simon slips his fingers past your panties, his cock twitching in his pants at the feeling of your wetness spreading along his fingers.

“Ffff..uck, babe, you're so wet for me ‘lready…” he whispers.

You gasp as his finger slips up and down between your folds, making you twitch as he passes your throbbing clit.

“So fuckin’ divine…” he purrs above you, eyes full of love and lust. His other hand finds a place on your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he works at your warmth.

You whine, watching as his teeth bite at the lace lining of your panties, pulling them down as his eyes don’t stray from yours.

“Oh…fuck…” you bite your lip gently, the action making you fanny flutter to the point of aching.

“Jesus…” he breathes against your thigh, pressing his lips along the skin and sucking it until he’s satisfied with the markings.

Simon scoops up both of your legs by the crooks of your knees, spreading them apart as he shifts down to rest his knees on the ottoman spread across the end of the bed.

A shuddered moan releases from you as his tongue prods at the hole in your cunt, then drags up to swirl around your sensitive bud.

Your hand grabs a tight hold in his hair, making him groan against your core and increase the pressure and sensation in your stomach.

A whimper leaves your throat as he sucks and laps at your pussy, making you buck into his jaw.

“Jus’ like that, baby,” he growls onto you, pressing a wet kiss onto your clit. “Y’gon cum all over m’face like a good girl?”

You mewl and cry out as Simon slips a finger inside, your back arching and thighs jerking.

“Simon!” You gasp loudly as your fingers dig into his back over his shirt.

His tongue drags flatly up your cunt, collecting all your juices—he’s practically drinking you.

Another finger pushes inside gently, curling inside that same spot he’s able to find so effortlessly each time that makes you go wild.

“Gon’ c…cum…” you stutter meekly.

“C’mon then,” he urges. “Cum f’r me.”

Simon quickened his pace and the pressure, pumping his fingers in and out, in and out.

Like he was starved, his face presses closer into you, tongue toying at your clit making you twitch against him.

There’s an unbearable heat between your legs as you feel a knot tie in your abdomen when Simon levered his fingers deeper into you.

“Good…” he groans, pressing his tongue inside with his fingers as your walls clamp around him desperately, a strained moan leaving you as your orgasm snaps.

You cum, hard, and grip his shoulders with both hands as his fingers fuck your orgasm back into you before he finally pulls his fingers out to coat your thighs in your climax.

Simon sucks out his work, then spits it back out onto your heat, slapping your pussy and releasing a deep groan.

He licks his fingers clean, his tongue sliding between each finger.

You lift yourself up by gripping his belt, slightly wobbling before his hand finds a spot to rest on your back.

“Fuckin’ hell…cum drunk ‘lready, sweets?” Simon bends down to take your mouth onto his, taking the chance to slip his tongue between your lips when you moan into his.

Gently, you palm his hard cock over his pants, eyes squeezing shut then opening to find your place on his belt and fumble with the buckle.

“Mm—y’find what you were lookin’ f’r?” He pants heavily before his lips trail down your jawline to lick and suck at your neck.

“Oh..fuck…” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin.

“Want you so bad, Si…” you moan, lifting your head to grant him better access. “Want to feel you inside of me.”

He pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere across the room while he kicks off his pants that you helped pull down Simon’s hips, lips then coming back down to tease at your collarbones and neck.

“Ooh..ho…you will, don’t y’worry, sweet girl.” His cock sprung free out of the restraints of his boxers, making him groan hoarsely.

Simon’s fingers tap on the outerside of your thigh. “Turn over,” he demands.

You babble out nonsense that is incoherent as you flip on your stomach and one of his hands gather both of your wrists.

He’s on the bed now, between your legs with one hand holding you up by your stomach.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, lips trailing up your spine.

“Y’want it?” He growls. “Huh?”

He inhales sharply, nudging the tip into your greedy hole. “God…you do…”

“J’s suckin’ me in like th’needy little pet y’are.”

You moan out a chant of pleases, cheek pressing into the comforter of the bed as he arches and positions you to his liking.

“Y’want this thick cock in y’r empty pussy.”

“Yes…” you mumble, backing into him

softly until you take in his entire tip which causes the larger man to apply more pressure into your stomach. “Fuck me, please…please…”

“Oh…Mmm…Such a good girl beggin’ f’r my cock.” Simon praises, letting you bounce on his tip for a few moments.

“Tha’s right baby…jus’ like that…I own this pretty little cunt, don’t I?” He snarls. “Nobody else’s to fuck.”

“Only yours, just yours,” you nod helplessly, earning a positive noise from the man behind you.

He takes in a sharp breath before slowly he inches himself into you farther, stretching you.

Filling you.

You moan loudly, your walls closing around his length making him push out the same noise.

When he bottoms out in you, his tip kissing your cervix, he retracts and ruts back into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room as he hisses and breathes harsher at every thrust.

“Oh…” he sighs in ecstasy, releasing your wrists so he can grab the fat on your waist.

“Yes…” he moans, every contact with your hips causing the breath in his mouth to jump and fall.

“Tight little pussy just swallowing me,” Simon hisses through clenched teeth as he painfully yet deliciously stretches you open to his size. “So—fuckin’ sexy.”

“Want y’to cum in me, please…” You gasp, clawing at the comforter as he bucks himself deep into you, filling you up and emptying you, repeating that motion over and over.

“Want me to fill y’with my seed?” He chuckles, a moan interrupting him. “Tha’s what my slutty pet wants?”

“Fucking yes! My god, yes…” you pant, muttering and whining unintelligibly as he slams back into you and makes your ass slap against his thighs.

“Too bad,” he croons.

“Simon…pl..ease..” you moan.

“No…no, I can’t…cum in ya, love. We—we ain’t thinkin’ straight…” Simon’s cock twitches inside of you as he continues ramming his hips into yours, a guttural groan tearing out of him.

“I can feel y’tightenin’ around me, j’s beggin’ to cum around my fat cock…”

“There y’go…Bounce that gorgeous ass on me, j’s how I like it, babe.” Simon strains, hand roughly smacking the skin on your hind.

You squirm against him, making the blonde growl and grab your hips with a bruising grip. “Y’feel me stretchin’ y’r tiny pussy?”

“Mhm? Y’do?” He grunts, heaving above you as he thrusts himself into you. “Fuckin’ take it, filthy fuckin’ minx.”

“Look at you, such a pretty pet, bent to my content…Pussy out on display.”

“Gonna cum, gorgeous, all over your perfect belly.” He mumbles and flips you onto your back.

You moan shamelessly and loudly, whining as he pulls out of you and starts stroking himself while playing with your pussy.

“Fu…u…ck…” his head leans back as you massage his balls and replace his hand. “J’s likeee…that, perfect girl…”

He rubs his middle and pointer finger over your clit at an inhuman pace, making your body jolt and try to push away if it weren’t for his hand holding you roughly in place.

You roll your wrist up and down, pumping his cock in your hand until he takes control again and smacks his tip against your lower abdomen, spilling out his cum onto your stomach with a choke of your name.

Simon’s body twitches, pants and swears rolling off his tongue in a pleading voice as he covers you in his warmth.

“C...C’mon lovie, cum all over my fingers again, let me sss…see y’come undone f’r me again…N…Need to see it…” He stumbles over his words as he comes off his high, an undertone of a whimper in his voice.

It makes you pool, your ego skyrocketing at the fact that you can do that to someone. To him.

Simon’s fingers hit every perfect nerve inside your pulsating cunt, curling and plummeting into the same spot of overwhelming pressure that brought you over the edge.

A tightness coils in your stomach again, and he absolutely fucking loves the strained noises that spill out from you at every rut of his fingers inside of you.

He loves the way he can get you wrung out at every pet name and gentle touch, the way you clamp your thighs together at the smallest motions.

Simon knew your body better than you did, and he fucking loved it. He knew every spot that drove you absolutely mad and every crevice that had the ability to make you beg just how he wanted.

Your eyes shoot open from their half-lidded proportion as Simon finds a certain spot that sends electricity throughout your entire body, making you cry out and dig your nails into his scar-ridden flesh.

“Righ’ there, huh, princess? Righ’ there?” He hisses which drawls out to a throaty growl, hammering that same spot with more pressure. “Couldn’t stand bein’ away fr’m this pussy f’r so long…”

You chant ‘yes’ over and over again until your gasping and panting his name, your breath catching in your throat as you let out a loud cry through your climax, thighs trembling as they slowly close around his forearms in reflex.

He lifts your thighs up again and sits you on his lap as he pulls the covers over the both of you.

“Did s’good for me, lovie. Mmm…S’proud of you, baby.” Simon whispers, catching your lips in a ravenous kiss as he presses his cock inside of your warmth, pushing your climax back into you in a tranquil motion.

“‘M gonna be right back, okay?” You coo against his lips as you swing your legs over the bed, he gives you a small ‘mhm’.

You quickly give yourself time to use the bathroom, then wash your hands before you walk yourself back into the room, crawling back into his lap before he turns the both of you to the side.

Simon unclips your brassiere and drops it onto the floor, cups both of your breasts in his palms and moans as you slide yourself back down onto his cock.

“Mmh…So warm…” he whispers huskily while kissing the nape of your neck down to your collarbones.

He spoons you, lulling you into a state of drowsiness as he gently massages your tits. Simon’s breath is a gentle pattern over your neck, gentle snores leaving the barriers of his lips after his hands go still.

You don’t take long to catch sleep right behind him, turning your head a moment to peck his wet lips before you’re able to finally shut your eyes.

#ghostheartfelt #ghostheartfelt writing #simon ghost x reader #mw2 smut #ghost riley smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost imagine #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #ghostheartfelt ;; 👻#ghostheartfelt writing ;; 👻

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

Am I the asshole for calling a (now ex-) mutual a stingy asshole?

So to start, I (NB20) am in a pretty rough situation, I'm facing homelessness soon, transphobia at home and work and my hours have been getting cut resulting in me making even less money that can sustain me. I have a toyhou.se forum post up stating I have emergency commissions open to help me out and to please support me if you can. This is where the situation begins. I have a mutual on toyhou.se who I'll call Apple (MTF22) I talk to sometimes to the point I'd say we are friends, not super close but friends nonetheless. She made a bulletin telling people about my commissions and to please comm me if they could which I'm very grateful for since I did get a few customers from her because of that. The thing is, a few weeks later, she made a bulletin talking about how happy she was so many commissions she bought were finished around the same time and posted all of them with the artists tagged in the post. It was honestly... quite a few, I'm talking like 9 pieces of art of her fursona and even a custom vtuber model she got of her sona. I was going to reply all happy for her, but it made me think... how much did she spend on those commissions?? So I went through all the artists socials to find their commission prices and came to a total of fucking $385!!! More than half of my current goal I'm trying to make through commissions to stay out of homelessness!! So I messaged Apple saying since I saw she bought a few commissions if she was interested in buying a comm from me. She replies saying "Ohh! I'd love to <333 but im just not in a place to buy any more comms right now :< sorry >.<!!" So I casually reply really? because it seems like your in the perfect place to help me out after already spending over $300 in commissions. She tells me she's sorry and really wishes someone would be able to help me out but she just wasn't that interested in my art or a custom to which I tell her she could've easily donated to my ko-fi which I have always had since she clearly has money to spend? To this, she straight up IP blocks me. So still fucking annoyed, I vented in a discord server I share with a few friends from being in a few shared CS together, saying how annoying it is rich assholes like her would drop half a thousand for a picture of their fursona but don't even blink twice at their so called friends. anyway, one of my friends takes a look at Apples th profile and notices she has a new bulletin up and sends me a screenshot, but anways the bulletin reads like "hey!! just saying, but please dont come into my dms acting like you know my financial situation better than i do, just because i buy a lot of commissions doesnt mean im made of money! and please dont think that me commisioning artist 1 means i hate artist 2? thats so weird, thanks!!!!!" and seeing all their subscribers just kissing her ass pissed me off so i made my own bulletin that just stated "i thought it was pretty fucking weird to know how bad ur friend's situation was and to go buy a bunch of comms instead of buying a comm from or even throwing a buck to help me out? like yeah im gonna think i know ur situation better than u, you stingy fuck!!!" Anyway, she mustve been block evading (which I reported her for) since she unblocked me, took a screenshot of my bulletin, then went on about how she lived in an abusive household; her dad had thrown her into a sink and chipped her tooth, bruised half her face and scarred it pretty badly. She bought a bunch of commissions immediately afterwards in a panic to make herself feel better, paying everything with her savings. Which to me.. isn't an excuse. Ive been hit and abused and still found scraps of money to pull together to give to mutuals who need it and Ive been bumping my own post like crazy and she had literal weeks to donate or comm me. Not to mention Ive had exmutuals of hers come to me saying that shes never donated anything to them either despite advertising their posts but always had money for plushies, comms and other crap, meaning Im not alone in thinking shes a stingy asshole. This is getting long, so here, tumblr AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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atticrissfinch · 11 months

Text

Gimme What I Want: A Fic in Texts

pairing: joel miller x afab!reader summary: the wrong number that texts you ends up being a man much hotter than you’d ever expect… warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, porn w/o plot i’m sorry but not really, dirty talk, daddy!kink, praise!kink and degradation!kink (we love duality), light dom!joel vibes, pet names/degrading terms (darlin’, babygirl, pretty girl, whore, slut, bitch, etc), age gap (Joel is 56, reader is 25), implied masturbation (m & f), mentions of cream pies, sexting a stranger but it’s ok cause he’s a dilf, really bad innuendos word count: ~2.2k | ao3 | Part 2 a/n: biting the bullet and posting my first fic in literal years because Pedro is just…an inspiration what can I say. So I’m going with something a little lighter (conceptually, not topically…this is just smut lmao). Pls be nice I am c r u s t y with my writing rn ty <3 (gif from ketokitsune on reddit) Masterlist | Kofi

[5:32 PM] UNKNOWN NUMBER: Hey Doug, this is Joel. Tommy gave me your number, he mentioned a build job you might have for us? Happy to chat whenever, just let me know.

[5:40 PM] You: Good to hear from you Joel. Unfortunately I’ve vowed to never do work with a man whose name starts with the letter “J”. Nothing personal

[5:46 PM] Joel: Uh…no disrespect intended…but are you jokin?

[5:52 PM] You: ‘Fraid not. J is reserved for our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen

[6:10 PM] Joel: Well…I guess in that case, let me know if you change your mind. God bless, I suppose

[6:12 PM] You: I’m totally fucking with you, man. You got the wrong number

[6:12 PM] You: Sorry I couldn’t resist

[6:15 PM] Joel: Wait, serious?

[6:16 PM] You: As a heart attack. Sorry about that

[6:18 PM] Joel: You got me good, I gotta admit. Head is still reeling a little bit LOL

[6:19 PM] You: I get my kicks where I can

[6:23 PM] Joel: Well sorry to bother you. Thanks for the chuckle

[6:27 PM] You: So you’re construction or something?

[6:30 PM] Joel: Yup. General contractor at your service

[6:30 PM] You: Your own business?

[6:31 PM] Joel: Is indeed

[6:32 PM] You: Damn, big bossman. Pretty hot

[6:35 PM] Joel: You’re silly. Im just an old man who’s put in too many years of work. Got achy bones

[6:40 PM] You: I know you’re not supposed to ask this on a first date, but how old are you, Joel?

[6:42 PM] Joel: HA! You’re a funny one! LOL

[6:42 PM] Joel: 56 very long years old

[6:45 PM] You: Oh, now, that’s not so old!

[6:50 PM] Joel: Tell that to my knees. LOL

[7:03 PM] You: You lay a lot of pipe as a contractor, Joel?

[7:06 PM] Joel: Suppose I do. Gotta have plumbing. Why do you ask?

[7:15 PM] You: Actually been looking for someone to come snake my drain

[7:19 PM] Joel: I mean you’re probably lookin for more of a plumber in that case. I got some contacts if you need one

[7:25 PM] You: I prefer someone who knows how to lay pipe to snake my drain 😏

[7:36 PM] Joel: I feel like you may be talkin about somethin different than I am. Less appropriate maybe

[7:37 PM] You: It’s possible

[7:46 PM] Joel: if we’re breaking those rules I suppose I should ask how old YOU are. ‘Fore I say somethin stupid

[7:46 PM] Joel: or illegal

[7:47 PM] You: Well at least you’re careful. I’m 25. Safely out of “jail bait” territory

[7:48 PM] Joel: Golly. 25. Jesus was I a hellion at 25. Hope you’re better behaved than I was

[7:50 PM] You: I bet there’s still a little hellion in you 😉

[7:51 PM] You: I could stand to have a little more hellion in me, if you catch my drift 😉

[7:58 PM] Joel: You’re a bitta trouble ain’t you

[7:59 PM] Joel: What you doing flirtin with a man over twice your age

[7:59 PM] Joel: A STRANGER at that

[8:00 PM] You: Oh I found you on google about an hour ago already. Not so strange anymore.

[8:00 PM] You: Miller Contracting, right? In Austin?

[8:02 PM] Joel: I’ll be damned. We got a regular Nancy Drew on our hands.

[8:03 PM] You: Wasnt terribly difficult 😂 Already had your first name, area code, and occupation.

[8:03 PM] Joel: Well shit if that ain’t a reminder to be more careful…

[8:05 PM] You: You’re a very handsome man, Joel Miller

[8:07 PM] Joel: Think you’re lookin at Tommy. He’s the face of the operation. I’m just the brains.

[8:08 PM] You: Oh no, I see Tommy here. But he’s not who I’m looking at. There’s a couple pics of you on google.

[8:08 PM] You: Salt and pepper hair. Scruffy beard. Nice sturdy build. Little scowl. Sound like you?

[8:09 PM] Joel: Damned if it don’t I guess

[8:09 PM] You: Definite silver fox

[8:10 PM] Joel: Well I’m blushin over here. Thanks darlin

[8:10 PM] Joel: I’m sure you’re a beautiful young woman

[8:15 PM] You: How about you let me know

[8:15 PM] You: [Image Attached]

[8:15 PM] Joel: SHIT

[8:15 PM] Joel: Darlin you can’t just be sendin stuff like that!

[8:16 PM] You: I’m fully covered!

[8:16 PM] Joel: Barely!

[8:17 PM] You: I suppose I should have asked if you’re married

[8:17 PM] Joel: Might’ve been smart. But luckily no. Wouldn’t want to have to explain that shit to no one

[8:17 PM] Joel: Wrong number suddenly sending me…pics like that

[8:19 PM] Joel: Not that it’s a BAD picture. You certainly are an undeniable beauty

[8:19 PM] Joel: But you ARE trouble just like I said

[8:20 PM] You: Well then I have to ask. Do you like trouble, Mr Miller?

[8:21 PM] Joel: Hey now don’t be callin me that…Mr Miller, that was my daddy

[8:21 PM] You: Is that so

[8:21 PM] You: How would you feel about me calling you my daddy?

[8:22 PM] Joel: Jesus christ darlin…you are a forward little devil aren’t u

[8:22 PM] Joel: A little temptress

[8:22 PM] You: I tend to know what I want.

[8:22 PM] Joel: Seems like it

[8:25 PM] Joel: Ok. I’ll bite. In that pic…that really you? That what you’re wearin right now?

[8:25 PM] You: It is. You like?

[8:26 PM] Joel: Lord strike me down, but I do. You wear it real nice. Skimpy little top. Those wicked little daisy dukes. Like you’re right out of a fuckin dirty magazine

[8:27 PM] Joel: What would your daddy say if he saw you takin pictures like that and sendin em to strange old men like me?

[8:27 PM] You: I dunno, daddy, what would you say?

[8:27 PM] Joel: Fuck me. You’re a naughty fuckin thing aint you

[8:28 PM] You: VERY naughty. And I think you like that.

[8:33 PM] Joel: Goddamn it. Alright if you wanna be naughty who am I to stop you, darlin

[8:33 PM] Joel: Show me a little more

[8:42 PM] Joel: Shit I’m sorry that was too much

[8:43 PM] You: [Image Attached]

[8:43 PM] You: Just wanted to get it right

[8:43 PM] Joel: Christ, you are…..

[8:43 PM] Joel: That is the finest pair of tits I may have ever seen in all my years. All pulled out of that flimsy little shirt. Absolutely perfect

[8:43 PM] You: Thank you, daddy. I’m glad you like them.

[8:44 PM] Joel: I more than like em. God would I love to…

[8:44 PM] You: Love to what? Tell me, daddy.

[8:45 PM] Joel: Goddammit somethin about you callin me that darlin

[8:45 PM] Joel: Got me all fucked up in the head

[8:45 PM] Joel: I want them in my hands. In my face. My mouth

[8:45 PM] Joel: Bet they look fuckin exquisite bouncin up and down on…

[8:46 PM] You: On what, daddy?

[8:47 PM] Joel: You got my filter all turned off babygirl. Thinkin some things that’ll send me straight to hell. Specially with a young thing like you

[8:48 PM] You: Let me be real clear then. I like older men, Joel. Like how much they KNOW. All that experience. All that practice. 56 years, I know you know how to talk to a woman. So talk.

[8:49 PM] Joel: Shit

[8:49 PM] Joel: Fuck it then. I certainly don’t aim to disappoint

[8:49 PM] Joel: Those gorgeous tits would look downright sinful if you were bouncin on my cock

[8:50 PM] You: Fuck yes daddy

[8:50 PM] Joel: You touchin yourself babygirl?

[8:51 PM] You: Just my tits right now. Imagining those big, rough hands of yours all over them.

[8:51 PM] Joel: That’s good, babygirl. Squeeze those tits for me.

[8:51 PM] Joel: Fuck. Sendin me dirty pics. Callin me your daddy. You’ve got this dick nice and hard. Might pull it out in a second

[8:51 PM] Joel: Would you like to see it?

[8:52 PM] You: Yes please daddy

[8:52 PM] Joel: Good girl

[8:54 PM] Joel: [Image Attached]

[8:54 PM] Joel: All for you babygirl

[8:55 PM] You: Holy fuck

[8:55 PM] You: I know every girl says this but I mean it, you are so fucking BIG

[8:55 PM] Joel: Haha believe me I know darlin

[8:55 PM] Joel: Had a lotta girls over the years have to take me real slow at first

[8:55 PM] Joel: But they all end up screamin my name just the same

[8:56 PM] You: Fuck I want it. Make me one of those girls. But don’t go slow.

[8:57 PM] Joel: Yeah? You want it rough pretty girl? Want to be split open on this cock? want me to make you take it like the filthy fucking whore you are?

[8:57 PM] You: FUCK. Yesyesyes please keep talking to me like that i’m touching myself daddy

[8:58 PM] Joel: I know you are baby. Can’t fucking help yourself. Begging and drooling over this cock since you started talkin to me. Slutty little girl wants to get fucked and degraded by an old man

[8:58 PM] You: Yes daddy I do I need your fucking huge cock in me PLEASE

[8:59 PM] Joel: Surprised a whore like you knows her manners so good, sayin please all pretty and nice

[8:59 PM] Joel: Matter fact when I put this cock in you, I better fuckin hear a thank you as well

[8:59 PM] You: THANK YOU DADDY

[9:00 PM] Joel: That’s right babygirl take that fucking cock and touch that pretty clit

[9:01 PM] You: Im already close daddy please please

[9:01 PM] Joel: Fuckin right you are. greedy little whore throbbin for this big cock. cum all over those soakin wet fingers thinkin bout me. god such a slutty little bitch aren’t you

[9:01 PM] You: Yessssss daddy im a slutty little bitch youre gonna make me cum

[9:02 PM] Joel: Stop textin and take a video of that dripping cunt comin for me. That fuckin orgasm belongs to me doesn’t it babygirl. Im givin it to you so I deserve to see it

[9:03 PM] Joel: So fuckin pretty babygirl got my cock so fuckin hard let me see that fucked pussy

[9:05 PM] You: [Video Attached]

[9:05 PM] Joel: Shit baby you are the filthiest thing I ever seen. Sound so sexy those little whimpers when u came fuck

[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna make me cum all over my fist baby

[9:05 PM] Joel: Gonna pump this pussy full of my cum take this cock and this huge fuckin load up your cunt babygirl

[9:08 PM] Joel: [Video Attached]

[9:13 PM] You: Shit. That was. Fuck.

[9:14 PM] Joel: Not so quick-witted when you’re fucked stupid are you LOL

[9:14 PM] You: Shut up…

[9:15 PM] You: Goddamn you sure know how to sext I’ll tell you that

[9:16 PM] Joel: As you said. Had some practice over the years. Wink.

[9:16 PM] You: Oh god, do you not know how to use emojis to wink? 😂

[9:16 PM] You: Dinosaur 😝 🦕🦖

[9:17 PM] Joel: Yeah, well, if this ��dinosaur” ever gets ahold a you, you’re gonna be real sorry for pokin fun at him, little girl

[9:20 PM] You: Well since you mention it…

[9:20 PM] You: It’s possible I might be in Austin too

[9:21 PM] Joel: I may have suspected. The area code n all

[9:22 PM] You: Wouldn’t it be REAL embarrassing if I did end up actually being that guy you were looking for? 😝

[9:24 PM] Joel: Shit, if Doug looks as fine as you I wouldn’t give a good goddamn LOL

[9:25 PM] Joel: I ain’t givin out any dick discounts though 😉

[9:25 PM] You: *gasp* you do know how to use emojis!

[9:26 PM] Joel: Quick learner 😉 Gotta be if I’m gonna be your daddy after all 😏

[9:30 PM] Joel: Well I’m mighty glad I texted the wrong number darlin

[9:31 PM] You: Me too 😊 Maybe someday we can try this in person…

[9:34 PM] Joel: I’ll bring the snake

[9:35 PM] You: 😂😂😂

____

Part 2

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#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou #the last of us #katy wroted fic #daddy!joel miller

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