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javiscigarette · 8 months

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Teacher's Pet, part II

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: Joel gives you a few more lessons and a few more feelings start to surface. (Picks up right where part one left off so I recommend reading that first!)

Warnings: unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, oral (m!receiving), fingering, thigh riding, dirty talk, ungodly amount of pet names, unprotected sex, virginity loss (it's the real deal this time), he's back and more annoying than ever but still just as sweet, disgustingly fluffy at times, reader has hair he can run his fingers through but no other physical descriptions, no use of y/n

w/c: ......10.5k I am so sorry

a/n: It's here! I kept changing my mind with how I wanted this to go so hopefully I landed on something good. I'm absolutely still blown away by the amount of love and support you guys gave on part one :'))) you are all incredible. Hoping and praying this one lives up to everyone's expectations

Part One

my masterlist

"Well, excuse the fuck outta me" he huffs, but the feigned offense is betrayed by the way he’s positively beaming down at you. "I'm about to give you the best fuckin' lay of your life, and here you are makin' fun of me." "The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to." "Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.” "That's some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Getting on your knees for Joel Miller wasn’t exactly on your agenda for today.

Not that you’re really complaining.

He doesn’t look bad from this angle, you have to admit. His chest looks broader from where you are on your knees in front of him, if that’s even possible. His hair is messy and tousled from where your fingers pulled and tugged with a pretty red flush spreading down his neck and chest, and the soft curve of his belly looking positively sinful.

“First lesson is how to take a man’s pants off,” Joel starts. “Think you can handle that? Or do you need a demonstration first?”

You scowl up at him, his words pulling you out of your transfixation on his body.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “I can take your pants off.”

He grins and raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go on then. Show me.”

You roll your eyes but take a steadying breath, trying your best to calm your pounding pulse and trembling fingers as you reach up for his belt buckle. The metallic jingle has your heart fluttering in your chest, and you make quick work of the rest, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans until they’re hanging open in front of you.

You stop for a moment and glance up at him. He’s looking down at you, a soft encouraging smile playing on his lips.

“S’okay, baby. Keep goin’,” he murmurs, nodding his head once.

You give him a small nod and a tight swallow around the lump in your throat, dropping your gaze back to the task at hand. Gently, gingerly, you hook your fingers in the waistband of both his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down simultaneously.

A tiny, barely audible gasp escapes you when his cock springs free and bobs heavily in front of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you whisper, too stunned to stop the words from slipping out.

“Just Joel if fine, actually.”

You barely even register his jab and you definitely don’t have the bandwidth to come up with any kind of witty comeback right now, your mind too busy processing the sight before you. Sure, you’ve seen plenty of dicks before, the internet can be a magical place. But this, in person, up close and so real, is an entirely new experience.

He's big, thick, heavy, and long with a slight upward curve. The tip is flushed a deep pink, shiny with smeared precome with more beading at the slit. A few thin veins run from his base to his tip up the length in a twisting pattern, the dark hair at his base neatly trimmed. And he’s hard, so much so that it looks nearly painful and your stomach flutters know that you're the one who did that to him.

"You can touch it, y'know." Joel says softly after a few moments of silence. "It ain't gonna bite."

"Oh my god" you groan, bringing up a hand to scrub down your face as he pulls you out of your awe.

"Again, just Joel is fine."

He laughs proudly at his own joke and you drop your hands in your lap and stare up at him in disbelief.

"Oh c'mon! You walked right into that one, no need to get all-"

He cuts himself off with a hiss, the air escaping between his teeth and his head falling back as your hand wraps around him, squeezing just a little too tight to be pleasant. He staggers half a step backward, hips jerking away from your grip.

"You were saying?'' you ask sweetly, grinning up at him.

"Fuckin' christ, woman. You're tryin' to get me off not break it off"

You loosen your grip a little but keep your hand still and look at him with expectant eyes, waiting for further instruction. It's not that you don't know what to do, you just don't know how to do it well. How to do it for him.

You want to do well for him.

The realization should alarm you, scare you even. But you find it only spurs you on, only makes the want burning inside of you even more potent and pressing. You want to make him moan, gasp, make his body writhe beneath your touch. You want him to be breathless, shivering, and panting with pleasure. You want to make him come undone, just like you did for him.

"Okay" he starts, clearing his throat and taking a deep breath. "Lesson two is learning what he likes. Everyone's a lil different, but the basics are the same."

The nerves in your gut twist almost painfully, the anxiety of it all getting you half a second away from tapping out.

But your decision is set in stone when he drops his hand to yours where it’s wrapped around him, giving a light squeeze before he starts to gently guide your movements.

"Start slow,” he starts, a light strain tainting the edges of his voice. “Nice and gentle. Wanna work up to it."

You nod and watch, focused intently as if you were actually a student in class as the head of his cock disappears and reappears in your fist. His hand covers yours nearly entirely as he drags it up and down while you try and memorize where he squeezes a little tighter, when he swipes his thumb over the head.

“Can give a little twist at the top,” he murmurs, voice low as he demonstrates what he means. “There you go, baby. Just like that,” he sighs when you do the same.

Once satisfied, he removes his hand, letting you take control. You continue to pump him, trying to replicate the movements he just showed you. His cock is a warm, heavy weight in your hand, twitching and pulsing every now and then when you twist your wrist just right or swipe your thumb over his head like he showed you, collecting and spreading his precome to ease your strokes.

Your confidence builds with each stroke and soon enough you start to experiment with your pace, switching between faster and slower. He gently rocks his hips in time with your hand, unable to resist thrusting forward just slightly.

The fire inside you burns even hotter at the shaky breath that he lets out above you, heat spreading through your veins like wildfire before settling low in your belly, your core aching and pulsing with it.

"This good?" you ask concerned, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lets out a breathless chuckle and looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"Yeah, honey. Real good," he rasps, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You match his smile, biting your lip and basking in his praise, a warm, gooey feeling spreading outwards from your heart to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's like he has a direct link to the inner workings of your brain and body with how effortlessly he can make you melt, with just a soft, easy smile and a few well chosen words.

"Should I...do you want my mouth?" you ask, glancing between his flushed, leaking cock and his hooded eyes.

"God yes, baby. J-just start slow. Lick the tip, get a feel for it. Don't try to take too much right away," he instructs, his voice constricting more and more with each word.

"So I shouldn't try to fit all of your giant cock in my mouth on my first go?" you quip, raising a brow.

"Please don't" he chuckles. "Don't want ya pukin’ all over the place. Might kill the mood," he adds with a grin.

You shake your head and let out a light laugh, the sound trailing off into a content hum when he brings his hand to the top of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, dull nails scratching lightly at your scalp.

"You're ridiculous," you sigh, leaning into the touch.

"You love it."

You do, so, so much.

"Now c'mon. You've got work to do," he teases, his hand gently tugging at your hair.

You comply easily enough, leaning forward and tenderly swiping your tongue across the slit, licking up the precome that's gathered there. He hisses, a rush of hair pushing past his clenched teeth as his cock twitches in your hand, a fresh bead of precome forming.

With your confidence renewed by his reaction, you do it again, pressing your tongue flat against the slit and swirling it slowly around his swollen tip all while your hand still works him at a steady pace.

Emboldened, you take it a step further and close your lips around him, sealing them around the head to give him a slow, experimental suck. The groan he rewards you with has sparks shooting down the length of your spine.

"That's it. Good girl. Just like that," he pants, fingers tugging and tightening in your hair.

His praise washes over you in another wave of warmth, a feeling akin to a full-body shiver that has goosebumps breaking out over your skin. It strokes your ego, pride and confidence filling you as his soft moans and grunts fuel the fire burning in your belly.

Encouraged by the way he’s already falling apart, you take him a little deeper. It’s only a few inches but your lips are already stretched wide, a slight ache already settling in your jaw from how wide it's being forced open.

You keep your tongue flat against the underside of his cock while you start to bob your head, trying to match the pace of your hand. But the motions are new and unfamiliar, your movements clumsy and uncoordinated and when he hits the roof of your mouth, your gag reflex kicks in forcing you to pull off quickly, coughing and sputtering.

"Easy. Easy," Joel soothes, his fingers scratching at your scalp again. "Try to breathe through your nose. And don't don't force it, yeah? Feels good, just the way you were doin' it."

"Sorry," you apologize sheepishly, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Ain't nothing to be sorry for. S’your first time. It takes practice. Now, c'mon. Try again. Nice and easy. And if this man tries to-"

But you're not in the mood for another Joel Miller Life Lesson, especially when he’s about to mention the other man who's name you can barely even remember anymore.

Thankfully, his words dissolve into a groan when you take him back in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his sensitive head, tongue flat where it slowly glides down the underside of his cock as you take him deeper.

The ache in your core is quickly growing more and more incessant. You can still feel the ghost of his fingers and tongue on you, your inner thighs wet and sticky with the memory. And the sinful sounds he’s making, whispered curses between breathy moans and grunts, are not exactly helping your case.

You manage to take a little more, his thick cock stretching your mouth wider, forcing your jaw open even further. You gag slightly around him again but you’re determined to push through it this time. YOu squeeze your eyes shut and breathe in harshly through your nose as saliva dribbles past the tight seal of your mouth and drips onto your hand, your fist diligently pumping what you can't take.

He responds with a low, guttural groan, his hips jerking forward, chasing after the sensation of your throat convulsing around him.

You're still only a little over halfway down and it's a quick realization that you'll never be able to get it all down your throat. Maybe you can try and practice, but it’s practically a pipe dream to even think about getting his whole cock into your throat without choking to death on it.

But that's a problem for another day.

For the next time.

For now, you hollow out your cheeks and suck as you pull back, tongue swirling along the underside until his cock leaves your mouth with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting your swollen, spit-slicked lips to his glistening tip.

You use your hand to spread the wetness, mixing it with the precome that's leaking steadily from the flushed head. The smooth glide allows you to speed up your pace as you look up at him through your lashes, trying to gauge his reaction.

He's staring down at you with hazy, lust blown eyes, his jaw hanging open, panting heavily.

"How am I doing, Professor?" you tease with an innocent smile. A lazy grin slowly spreads on his face in return.

"You’re a fuckin’ natural, baby," he mumbles, his hand moving from where it's tangled in your hair to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over the apple of your flushed cheek, "My good girl."

And maybe, most likely, the words slipped out unintentionally, the heat of the moment forcing out things that he doesn’t really mean. But all the alarms and sirens in your head warning yourself to not fall too deep into this trap that is Joel Miller with his pretty words and sweet praises and soft smiles are all dead silent right now. There’s not a single part of your brain that’s trying to resist him right now. You doubt you could even if you wanted to.

Because he just called you his girl.

His.

To say you’re fucked would be the understatement of the century.

You hum, pressing your cheek into his palm, wanting, needing, craving more. More of his touch, his taste, his warmth, his cock, his praise. So you take him back in your mouth with a renewed determination, spurred on by his words, wanting to prove to him that he's right, that you are his good girl. Determined to show him that you can make him feel good, that you can please him, that he'll want more of you, need more of you.

And judging by the way his grip on your hair is almost painful, his thighs trembling as he holds himself still, fighting the urge to jerk his hips forward and shove his cock down your throat, you'd say you're doing a damn good job

"Makin’ me feel so good, baby. So fuckin' good," he pants when you take him a little deeper.

You whine quietly around him as you press your sticky thighs together. White hot heat pooling low in your belly, your neglected cunt throbbing and aching, slick, wet, and messy.

You squirm in your spot, rubbing your thighs together and grinding down on nothing in desperate search for the slightest bit of friction. You pray that the movement is subtle enough for Joel not to notice.

As if that’s possible.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Joel starts, his tone annoyingly saccharine and condescending as he smirks down at you. “Did we forget somethin’ important?”

Another small whimper is all you can muster, too focused and preoccupied with the way his thick length is filling your mouth, the weight and taste of him on your tongue dizzying and addicting.

“Well look at that,” he coos, his hand leaving your hair and sliding down your cheek to cradle your jaw. He swipes swiping over your bottom lip that’s stretched around his length, smearing the spit that’s gathered there.

“Think I finally found a way to shut ya up. We should’a done this a long time ago. Woulda saved me a lot of headaches,” he chuckles, the sound dissolving into a sharp hiss when you dig your nails into the tender skin of the back of his thigh, hard enough to leave a mark.

You pull off his cock with a wet pop, jaw aching as you glare up at him.

"I'd shut up if I were you" you warn, the threat of your words completely lost in the breathless, desperate way they leave your mouth. "Just one good chomp is all it would take" you add, clicking your teeth together for emphasis.

But Joel's face just splits into a grin, a full blown, infuriating smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Biting huh? Now that’s a little kinky. Didn't know you had it in you, sweetheart."

"Shut up," you snap, but it still lacks any real heat, not with the way your lips are twitching at the corners, fighting a smile, your eyes undoubtedly sparkling, your heart definitely leaping out of your chest at the way his eyes are boring into yours.

"Careful, sweetheart. Might have to knock you down a whole letter grade for that type of talk. Gotta respect your professor ‘n all, y’know."

"You're insufferable," you grumble.

"But yet, here you are, still on your knees."

"And I'm gonna get up and leave if you don't stop talking."

"Leave before or after you chomp my dick off? Cause I'd really like a heads up for that, if ya could."

"Jesus fucking christ, Joel!" You huff, rolling your eyes so hard it actually hurts. "Do you ever just shut the fuck up? I'm literally on my knees right now with your dick in my mouth and you're still finding ways to piss me off!"

“What can I say? It’s a special talent of mine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, the smug smile on his face making you want to genuinely bite his dick off now.

You drop the wet hand you had wrapped around him and start to move to your feet.

"You know what, I'm just gonna go. Maybe I'll call my coworker. He's not nearly as irritating as you," you huff, pushing yourself up onto shaky legs, your knees stiff and sore.

But you can't even take one step before he's grabbing your waist, his large, warm palm resting firmly on the swell of your hip. His fingers flex, his grip tightening, not enough to hurt, but it's enough to halt you in your tracks. You're not particularly fond of the way your heart skips a beat in your chest, the way you can feel goosebumps breaking out all over your body from just his touch.

He pulls you in closer until your chest is pressed against his, hard, wet cock pressed against your bare thigh.

"You really think you’re gonna leave with your pussy drippin' all over the place like that?” he says, his voice seamlessly switching from teasing to low and rough as his dark, hungry eyes bore into yours. “You're about to ruin my floors with the way you're leakin' right now, baby. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

Your cheeks flame with embarrassment from how easily he was able to see your desperation, and with anger at how right he is.

"Shut the fuck up, Joel," you mumble, giving him a weak push at his chest. "I'm not leaking I-"

The rest of your sentence stays lodged in your throat when his free hand slips between your thighs. Two deft fingers drag through the slick mess, collecting your arousal and spreading it around, a soft, wet, obscene sound filling the space between you.

You don't even think to stop the high pitched, breathy whine from escaping your lips when he slides a thick finger inside you with no warning, your pathetic sound dissolving into a moan when he immediately follows it up with a second one, his palm pressed flat against your clit.

"Not leaking, hmm? Sure don't seem like it, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, rumbling drawl, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. "Feel that? How easy it was for me to get two fingers in ya?"

"Fuck," you whine as you dig your nails into the bare skin of his shoulder, hanging on to him and desperately searching for any semblance of stability as you try not to sway on shaky legs.

He crooks his fingers in you, fingertips digging into the spongy spot on your front wall that has your knees buckling, tiny stars dotting your vision momentarily as a rush of arousal gushes out of you, a pitiful whimper falling from your lips. Joel chuckles, low and dark and the sound shoots straight to your neglected clit, a bolt of lightning arcing down your spine.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he murmurs, nosing at the sensitive skin below your ear, the faint scrape of his beard against your cheek sending a shiver down your spine.

The feeling of him removing his fingers is a cruel, sudden jolt, the emptiness and lack of pressure and friction has you keening, a needy, impatient noise bubbling up from your throat.

He's moving before you can complain though, stepping around you to sit on the edge of the bed and then promptly pulling you down onto his lap. You let out a small squeak of surprise as he forces you to straddle his thigh, pulling you down until your aching cunt is seated firmly against his bare skin. The position has his cock pressing against your hip, a drop of precome smearing against your skin.

"Fuckin' soaked for me, honey,” he drawls, his fingertips dimpling the soft skin of your hips. “And to think you were about to leave without gettin' what you came here for.”

You can't even speak, too enraptured with the feeling of his strong muscles flexing subtly under your hypersensitive clit. So you ignore his teasing and just grind down instead, past the point of desperation.

But he would never let you win that easily, would he?

He laughs and tightens his grip on your hips, stopping your movement and holding you in place.

"Ah-ah, not so fast, baby. Let's talk about the terms first."

You give him the best glare you can muster while suppressing a needy whimper.

"Terms?"

"Yeah. Terms. Of all this. Like if this is a one time thing, or if we're gonna be havin' regular...lessons," he replies, his hands slowly sliding up your waist and coming to rest on your ribs, his thumbs stroking the undersides of your breasts.

"If you're gonna go out with this guy," he continues, his thumbs brushing over both of your nipples. "Or if I'm the only one who's gonna get to see this," he says, leaning forward, his warm breath fanning over your skin. You bite your lip, holding in the soft, needy moan threatening to spill out when his lips press to the hollow of your throat.

"If I'm the only one who gets to have you like this. If I'm the only one who's allowed to touch you. To kiss you," he says, punctuating his last word with a kiss to the center of your chest, his hands squeezing the swell of your breasts, his tongue flicking out and licking at your nipple.

"Or do you plan on letting him have you too?" He asks, the tip of his tongue swirling around your nipple before closing his lips around the pebbled peak, sucking it into his mouth, his teeth lightly grazing it before he pulls back. "'Cause I'm not too keen on sharin', baby."

You take a deep steadying breath, trying to clear the thick haze that's clouding your mind and focus on his words, his questions about the fucking terms.

And you do think about it, about your coworker who's been nothing but so sweet to you, who doesn't get on your nerves in under a millisecond. The coworker, Micheal, you think, his name finally returning to you, who doesn't tease you and play games and leave you a panting, needy, dripping mess.

And while he is really such a perfect gentleman, he isn’t the one that’s been there for you, listening to you complain about all the shitty things that have happened to you in the last year. He isn’t the man that lets you use him as a punching bag whenever you’re frustrated, has never been the calm, reasonable voice that challenges the anxiety that overwhelms you and threatens to pull you under.

Michael has never held you when you've cried, never helped you cook dinner after a hard day at work, never fixed the flickering light in your bathroom. He certainly has never dropped a key to his front door in your palm accompanied by a lopsided smile and the words just in case ya need anything.

Michael isn’t the one who’s been the one to pick up your pieces and put you back together, so gently and tenderly, making you even better than you were before.

It's useless, trying to avoid it. Trying to push it down, bury it, ignore it, how you've been feeling and what you want.

It’s Joel.

All of it.

You want Joel.

All of him.

You've wanted him since the day you showed up on his porch with a six pack. You've wanted him all those times you watched from a distance as he fixed something in your house, so capable and competent, casually waving away your slew of thank yous. You wanted him every single time he invited you over for a movie night, sitting close enough to you on his couch that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. You wanted him every time he made your blood boil and your eyes roll so hard you swore you could see the back of your brain, and every time you genuinely thought you were going to smack him.

And now, you have him.

Right here, naked and hard and underneath you, your pussy leaking on his thigh.

The answer is so painfully obvious, the words falling from your lips before you even have a chance to process them.

"M'not gonna see him," you finally manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Want this. Want you."

Joel hums, indicating that he heard you. But again, he would never let you win that easily.

"Speak up, baby," Joel says, releasing your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes dark and intense, a predatory, feral glint in them. "Can't hear you."

And it's infuriating and annoying, absolutely maddening. And it's the last straw.

You're not sure if it's the frustration, or the pent up desire, or the heat burning inside you, or the fact that Joel's still hard, and still leaking precum against your hip, as your cunt slides against his thigh, but you break.

You absolutely shatter.

"I want you!" you practically shout, hands balling into fists where they're resting on his shoulders.

"You, okay? You! You and your stupid, fucking, annoying ass, and your dumbass pickup truck, and your stupid, charming grin, and the way you always call me 'baby', and 'honey', and 'sweetheart'. It drives me fucking insane! And the way you're always fixing shit, and being so fucking helpful and sweet and you always, always make me laugh, and smile, and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the past year that I didn’t think about you and I can’t get you out of my fucking head, not even for a single fucking second.”

The words spill from your lips in a breathless tirade, and it feels good, freeing. It's like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, like a great burden has been taken off of you.

But the feeling doesn't last long.

Silence stretches between you and it's suffocating, oppressive, and you feel like the walls are closing in on you, panic rising in your chest.

Your cheeks burn, nauseating embarrassment and humiliation coursing through you as you realize the full weight of what you just word-vomited all over him. Your chest heaves, and you hang your head, unable to bring yourself to look at him.

But then, a bright laugh sounds through the otherwise quiet room. And your eyes snap to Joel's face, only to find him smiling.

He's fucking laughing.

"Joel!" you scold, a mixture of mortification and confusion washing over you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he placates, but the laughter in his voice doesn't help to ease your nerves. "I didn't mean to laugh, it's just...I just can't believe how dense you are."

The daggers you shoot at him are truly deadly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do you think I just go around callin' everyone 'baby' and 'sweetheart'?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

"I..." you stammer, trailing off as his words sink in.

"I mean, my southern charm is one thing,” he says, obnoxiously wiggling his eyebrows. “But you’re seriously thick if you think I'm like this with anyone else.”

You stare blankly at him, trying to process what he’s saying.

“Do you think I let all the neighbors just use me for free handy work, think I cook dinner with all of them, think I keep a stash of everyone’s favorite snacks in my pantry, give everyone a fuckin’ key to my front door? And you think I just go around agreeing to sex lessons to anyone who asks?” He rambles, squeezing your hip.

Your brain is reeling as you try to wrap your head around everything.

"Well...no” you stammer, your brows pinching together. “But…"

"How many other girls you seen me bringin' home? Huh? How many other girls you see me with?"

"None" you admit sheepishly.

"Mhm. Because I don't. Not since you moved in next door."

You frown, confusion clouding your features. You open your mouth to speak but Joel cuts you off.

"I like you, baby," he admits with a sigh. "A lot. Maybe too much. But I wasn't about to lose you as a friend just because I'm crazy about you. And if being your friend is the only way I can be close to you, then I'd take it and die a happy man."

You can only stare at him, the words he just spoke bouncing around in your brain, and a warmth blooms in your chest, your heart fluttering wildly in your ribcage.

"Are you kidding me?!" You exclaim suddenly, hitting his shoulder.

"Hey! Ow!" he barks, his eyes widening as he grabs his shoulder. "The fuck was that for?!"

"You've been trying to sleep with me for a whole year?!"

"I wouldn’t say trying," he says with a casual shrug. "Just waiting. Wanted you to take the lead but you’re a little stubborn, baby."

You scoff, glaring at him, not missing the way his lips twitch at the corners, the way his eyes sparkle with amusement.

"So, the reason why I haven't been able to catch a break the entire time we've known each other, has been because you've been trying to get in my pants? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well, that part is just natural. You're just too easy to get riled up. And that’s not my fault."

You open your mouth to argue with him but his sliding over your hips to palm at your ass and his lips are ghosting over the shell of your ear, his beard scraping against the sensitive skin.

"But no, I can't deny that I like it," he rasps, his breath warm against the side of your neck. "The way you get all fired up and angry, your face all flushed, your chest heaving. Mmm, it's nice. You look real pretty when you're all worked up and pissed off," he whispers, his lips curled in a smile when he presses a kiss to the spot below your ear before pulling back to look at you.

"Why didn't you tell me,” you say, voice softer now, the rough edges of your tone smoothed out by the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Didn't want to make it weird. Didn't want you to think I was some creepy old man and ruin our friendship" he explains with a small shrug. "But then you came over here tonight askin’ for a sex lesson, which was not easy by the way, acting like I wasn't already about to burst outta my pants as soon as you asked. Thought for sure you were onto me. But then you started going on about that douche canoe Michael-"

"Joel."

"And then I got jealous and pissed, and figured it was time to cut my losses and just enjoy it while I can, but-"

"Joel."

"Then we were kissing and you were touchin’ me and you're so fucking sexy and-"

"Joel!"

"What?"

"Just kiss me, you idiot" you breathe, and before the words are even fully out of your mouth, his lips are on yours, crashing into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs.

It’s bruising, searing, all consuming.

His fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he pulls you forward, the seam of your pussy dragging deliciously against the strong muscles under warm skin.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and tug, the base of your spine tingling when he groans softly into your mouth, and you grind your hips against his, the wet heat of your cunt grinding into his thigh, pulling another soft, low sound from his throat.

"Fuck" he groans, pulling away just far enough to press his forehead to yours, his breath coming in quick, sharp pants, his chest heaving. "Baby, are you still okay with this?" he breathes, voice ragged and gravelly.

You look at him as if he's grown a second head.

"Are you serious?"

""I...well, I was serious when I said I'd be fine with being your friend, and I don't want you to think I'm tryna pressure you into anything."

You can't help but roll your eyes, the soft, endearing side of Joel coming out at the worst possible time.

"I literally just admitted that I've had a crush on you for months, and now I'm sitting on your lap, soaked, and grinding on your thigh and you're worried I don't want this? I think you might be the dense one here."

He grins, wicked and wide, a flash of sharp teeth, the dimple in his cheek deepening.

"Guess so," he says, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

You don't respond, and instead choose to silence him by pulling him into a kiss, licking at the seam of his lips and sucking his tongue into your mouth. He groans softly into your mouth, and you swallow the noise, rolling your hips again, chasing the sweet friction that's sending a delicious heat through your veins.

"God, baby," he breathes when he pulls back for air, hands on your ass gripping and guiding you against his leg, encouraging your movements. "Makin' such a mess, ain't ya?"

You bite your lip, nodding as a wave of arousal surges through you.

"Yeah, you are. Soakin' my leg, sweet girl," he says, his eyes flicking down between you, watching as your pussy drags along his thigh, coating him in a shiny, slippery sheen.

"Fuck, Joel, please" you whine, your hips jerking and rolling against him.

And that's all the encouragement he needs.

In the blink of an eye, you're on your back, Joel hovering above you, a wild look in his eyes.

"Don't worry, baby," he says, his voice low and husky, and he trails his fingers over your hip and up your ribs, his touch light, teasing, barely ghosting across your skin and it's almost ticklish, making you shiver. "M'gonna take care of you. Gonna make you feel so good."

Your heart thunders in your chest, and your cunt throbs, your arousal leaking out of you. It feels like you’re about to crawl out of your own skin, the desperation growing with every passing second.

He trails his fingers down your sternum, and over the flat expanse of your stomach, goosebumps breaking out across your skin in his wake, the muscles under your skin rippling and twitching at the soft, fleeting touches.

And when he reaches the crease of your thigh, you let out a shaky, trembling breath, and he chuckles softly, his lips curling into a crooked grin.

"Eager, are we?" he teases, dragging his fingers over the slick flesh between your legs, gathering the wetness pooled there before slowly sliding a single thick digit inside you. "We're gonna get there, baby. But gotta make sure you're ready first. Don't wanna hurt you.”

You whimper, your walls fluttering and clenching around his finger, and your hips roll forward, seeking friction, wanting, needing more.

Joel curses under his breath and groans softly when your wet, warm walls constrict around his finger. His cock leaks and twitches where it’s pressed against your thigh, and you whimper, both of you caught up in an endless cycle of keying each other up.

"Please, Joel" you beg, and the words come out soft, pleading, and desperate. You should probably be embarrassed at how quickly he's reduced you to a begging, quivering mess, but the way his eyes go dark, and his pupils blow wide, makes the embarrassment worth it.

"Please, what, baby?” He prods with a devilish smirk. “Use your words"

"You're such an asshole" you snap, but the venom in your voice is diluted with pleasure as he slips another finger inside you.

"You keep saying that. What d’ya want me to do about it, sweetheart? You want me to stop?" he taunts.

"No!" you cry out, reaching down and grabbing his wrist with an iron grip when he starts to pull out.

"Then tell me what you want, honey."

"Fuck you,” you mumble weakly.

"Mhm. Okay, honey" he drawls, his thumb moving to circle around your clit as his fingers curl inside you, still pumping in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. . "I'll just wait then. Take my time. Tease your pretty little pussy until you can't stand it. I'm in no hurry, baby. Gonna take all night, if that's what it takes. I've waited this long."

"Joel, please" you whine again, the ache between your thighs turning to an unbearable burn.

"Tell me what you want,” he repeats casually.

"You," you try with a needy whimper.

"Me? You got me, sweetheart. What else?"

“Oh my fucking god can you please just fuck me? Or do I have to spell it out for you, old man?"

"There she is," Joel says with a laugh, his grin splitting his face "There's my girl"

And then his fingers are gone and you whimper at the sudden emptiness. But before you can protest much more,, they're sliding back in, this time joined by a third.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, gripping him, nails digging into the soft flesh of his muscles.

"Oh fuck" you pant, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he starts pumping his fingers again.

"Gotta get ya ready, baby" he breathes, and his lips are ghosting along your jawline and up the shell of your ear, his breath warm. "Such a tight little pussy, but we'll get you nice and open, don’t worry. Then I'm gonna sink in ya, fill you up real nice. Take real good care of you, baby. Fuck you nice and deep, make you forget your name. Would you like that? Hmm?"

A strangled moan is all you can manage in response. His words, filthier and more deranged than any you've ever heard him speak before, sending your brain into overdrive.

You can’t help but roll your hips, and bucking, and gyrating, meeting his thrusts as his fingers pump in and out of you, the lewd, wet, sloppy sounds filling the otherwise quiet room, and the coil in your gut is threatening to snap.

"Joel, Joel, fuck, oh fuck" you chant, your hazy and thick with pure arousal. It drips down your spine and flows through your veins, liquid heat burning, searing, and scorching you from the inside out.

You manage to open your eyes long enough to look down and see the tendons flexing in his wrist, the muscles and veins in his forearm bulging as he works you, his face brows pinched in concentration as he focuses on your reactions.

"Oh shit, honey," Joel curses breathlessly, a smug grin stretching across his lips as he feels your slick pooling in his palm. “So messy, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm? Gonna be a good girl and lemme feel your sweet little cunt clench and drip even more around my fingers?"

You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he thrusts his fingers into you, the heel of his palm rubbing deliciously against your clit. Your fingers scrabble for purchase, desperately seeking something, anything, to ground yourself. You settle for the firm muscle of his arms, your nails biting into his skin and leaving bright red marks that'll undoubtedly leave little half-moon bruises later

"Fuck, yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, lemme feel. Give it to me."

You come with a cry, the dam breaking, the tension in your gut exploding outward, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, washing through every inch of your body. Your legs tremble and shake, and Joel works you through it, his fingertips nudging that spongy spot inside you, dragging his thumb across your throbbing clit, milking you through the aftershocks, and when you start to come down, you're panting and breathless, your chest heaving.

You look up at Joel, and his eyes are blown wide, the deep, rich brown of his irises nothing more than a thin, dark ring around his dilated pupils. There are no words, at least none that you can manage to articulate at the moment, so instead you let out a breathless laugh, and a contented hum, a smile spreading across your lips.

Joel grins, laughing, and he leans down to capture your lips in a chaste kiss.

"Good girl" he breathes against your mouth, his words a low, rough rumble that has you keening. "That feel good, baby?"

"Fuck, yeah" you sigh, melting into the matress.

"Good,” he says before pressing a kiss to your forehead then pulling back to look you in the eyes again. “ Think you're ready for me now?"

“Mhm,” you murmur with a lazy nod. “Want you, Joel.”

Joel laughs, the sound sweeter than it’s ever sounded before.. "You've got me, sweetheart. You've had me. Always will."

"That's awfully fucking sappy," you tease breathlessly, threading your fingers into his soft dark hair.

"The best fuckin' lay of my life? I haven’t even had one lay. Don't exactly have anything to compare it to."

"Yeah, well, trust me. Best you're ever gonna get.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, raising a brow at him.

"That’s some big talk, cowboy. Let's see if you can live up to that."

Joel barks out a laugh, the sound coming out more like a snarl, his eyes flashing with something feral, predatory, and dangerous at your challenge.

And then he’s abruptly pulling his fingers from you then bringing them up to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick coating his fingers. The sight nearly puts you into cardiac arrest.

"So fuckin' sweet" he murmurs, his eyes slipping closed momentarily, and a low, satisfied hum rumbles in his chest. It's downright obscene, the way his lips wrap around his fingers, how he licks and sucks, cleaning your arousal off of them.

"Joel," you breathe, your voice nothing more than a shaky exhale.

His eyes snap open, and he gives you a lopsided smirk.

"Sorry, baby,” he starts, pulling his fingers from his mouth and wiping them on the blanket underneath you. “Can’t help myself. Just had to taste ya again. Gonna have a hard time not doing that every time,” he finishes with a sly smile.

Every time.

The words are like a shock of electricity shooting through your veins, setting your blood ablaze. Every time. As in multiple times.

How the fuck is this real?

He stupid smirk is still glued to his face as he leans over to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand. Your brows furrow when he pulls out a condom and goes to open it.

"I...uh..." you start, but the words die in your throat.

"What's wrong?" Joel asks, his smug expression immediately morphing into one of concern.

"I...well...it's just, I'm- I'm on the pill… We can use a condom, but...it's not necessary…just wanted to put that out there. In case, you know…you didn't wanna use one. Since it's not...like, not entirely necessary,” you say quietly, casting your eyes down to where your fingers fiddle with the edge of the blanket.

"Ahh, I see,” Joel responds, all too pleased. “You just want me to raw dog it, huh?”

"Wha-no! Oh my god, Joel, you are so fucking embarrassing," you groan, covering your face with your hands.

"S'okay, honey, don’t be embarrassed. It is all part of the full Joel Miller Experience anyway,” he reassures you with a sickeningly sweet tone..

"Oh my fucking god, I told you not to say that ever again,” you groan, shoving at his shoulder, which only makes him laugh. And you can feel yourself smiling too, despite how irked you are.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," he relents, still laughing a little. "If you really don't want me to use one, I guess I can make an exception, just for you"

And it's as if he knows that you're about to lash out at him again, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours before you have a chance to say anything, all the fight in you draining away as soon as his mouth is on yours.

"You tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispers when he pulls back. “Or if I do anything you're uncomfortable with, or if you just need a break. You let me know, okay?"

You nod.

"Promise?"

"I promise, Joel. Please just get on with it."

"Impatient" he breathes, but kisses you again nonetheless, soft, slow, and tender. And when he pulls away, his eyes are searching yours like he's looking for any signs of hesitancy. But all he sees is the same raw desire reflected back in your wide, eager eyes.

You see the exact moment that the last vestiges of his self-restraint disappear, his gaze growing darker and hungrier as he pushes himself up to sit back on his knees, one hand around the base of his cock, the other on the inside of your thigh as he tenderly spreads you open and settles himself between your legs.

He teases you of course, dragging his length through your folds, letting the swollen, leaking tip catch on your clit before sliding back down to nudge at your entrance. You whimper, and try to grind against him, but his hand is firm, holding your hip still, not allowing you any friction.

He hushes you softly, his thumb gently stroking the soft, delicate skin where your hip meets your thigh. "Just let me do what I need to do, baby. Let me take care of you.”

"You're evil," you whine, squirming underneath him.

"Yeah, well, that's a matter of opinion" he grunts, your breath hitching when he lines himself up and finally, finally pushes the blunt tip of his cock inside you.

Your lips part on a gasp, the feeling of his thick head stretching you open, the slight burn of the intrusion, a mixture of aching and pure pleasure. And you can feel his eyes practically burning holes in your skin, drinking in every little reaction, every flutter of your lashes, every twitch of your brow.

"How's that?" he asks, his voice tight and strained. He looks just as wrecked as you feel, his jaw tight, a sheen of sweat already on his brow, the muscles in his forearms bulging with the effort of restraining himself.

"More," is all you manage to rasp out, pushing your hips up, trying to get him to sink deeper.

Joel grunts, and then obliges, his eyes screwed shut in concentration as he tries to feed you only a little more of his considerable length. You can see him chewing on his lip, his nostrils flaring, a slight tremble in his thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Jesus fuck, you're tight" he grits out, his chest heaving as he tries to regain some of his composure. "I-I didn't…fuck, I didn't think- shit. God fuckin' damn, baby"

You smile a little, the corners of your lips curling upwards. It's the first time you've ever seen him truly at a loss for words, and it's a very welcome change.

You reach up and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed, a sweet sigh escaping his lips at the feeling.

"I can take more," you say softly.

Joel shakes his head, his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

But you don't listen. Not that you ever really listen to him.

Your impatience gets the best of you and you push yourself further down the bed, forcing another inch of his cock inside you, your walls fluttering wildly around him as you let out a low moan.

"Ah fuck, honey," he groans, his eyes flying open.

"C'mon, Joel. More. Please," you beg, grinding down on his cock, taking just a little bit more with each roll of your hips until his fingers dig into your hips so hard, you're sure they'll leave bruises.

"Baby stop fuckin' movin'" he hisses, his grip tightening even further. "Please."

You can hear the strain in his voice, and you can feel him trembling above you, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing and tensing.

"Why not?" you pout.

"Cause m'tryin' not to fuckin' come right now, alright?" he grunts, his teeth gritted. "So please, just stop. For a minute."

"You can't possibly be serious," you breathe, a smile creeping on your face again. "You're not even all the way in yet."

He glares down at you, his eyes narrowing. "Not my fault you're fuckin' tight as shit. It's like your cunt is tryin' to strangle me."

You giggle a little, the sound coming out breathy and light. You don't miss the way Joel's cock twitches at the sound.

"You're being so dramatic," you sigh, rolling your hips again.

"Fuck, honey, please," he begs, his eyes pleading, and the sight is almost enough to make you stop teasing him.

Almost.

You can't help the devilish smirk that crosses your face as you bring your hand up to his cheek, stroking your thumb across the stubble on his chin. He lets his eyes fall closed again, leaning into your touch.

"This isn't very 'best lay your life' behavior."

"I will fuckin' strangle you," he mutters, his eyes still closed, a smile playing on his lips.

"Is that part of the Joel Miller Experience too? Because I don't remember seeing it in the brochure. Was it next to the premature ejaculation section? Or maybe the-"

The air is knocked right out of your lungs, cut off mid-sentence when Joel pushes forward. He keeps it slow but unrelenting, sinking into you in one smooth, fluid motion. You cry out, your back arching off the bed, eyes screwing shut as your fists twist in the blanket underneath you.

It's more than overwhelming, it's absolutely mind melting the way he buries himself completely, stretching your walls, forcing them to make room for him, to mold perfectly around his length. You gasp for air between harsh pants and weak cries, the sensation of him filling you up, so much bigger than you expected, so much thicker than his fingers. You squirm underneath him, trying to get used to the feeling of his tip pressed against your cervix, the pressure building deliciously as the ache radiates from your core through your belly, to the tips of your toes.

"That what you wanted, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice strained and gruff, one hand still gripping your hip as he presses the other into the mattress by your head, holding himself up. "Is that enough for you?"

You struggle to find words, but you're not even sure if there are any in the English language that can convey just how good it feels.

"Uh-huh," you nod, blinking rapidly as the edges of your vision start to blur. "Fuck, Joel. You're so fucking big, oh my god."

You hear him chuckle, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple.

"Not too much though, is it? Cause you were begging for more just a second ago. Thought you could take it, sweetheart," he croons, nuzzling his nose against your cheek.

"No, no, 'sgood, " you whimper, the words slurring together as he starts to grind into you. "F-fuck. Joel. Shit, that feels so good. Holy fuck.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, pressing more kisses to your cheek and your jaw, trailing down the column of your neck. His lips brush against the sensitive skin, his breath hot against you. He lets you get used to the feeling, cursing under his breath and trying to think of anything else but the tight, wet heat convulsing around his cock.

"Doesn't hurt?" he asks with a sudden tenderness, his voice vibrating against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"No," you sigh, finally starting to relax around him.

"Good. You gonna let me know if it does, right baby? Or if you need me to stop?"

You nod weakly. "Mhm."

He kisses you then, a soft, languid, and lazy drag of his lips against yours. He slides his tongue along your lower lip, and you let him in without any hesitation, parting your lips with a breathy sigh. He takes the opportunity to swallow down every little sound that spills from your mouth, kissing you with a kind of reverence, a kind of tenderness, a kind of patience and passion that makes your heart feel like it might beat right out of your chest.

He pulls away leaving you even more breathless and dizzy, your lips tingling and swollen. And you're not sure if it's because of the kiss or the way he's stretching you so fucking wide, but your fucking drunk on it.

He kisses you once more, on the corner of your mouth, his lips curling up into a smile when you nuzzle against his cheek, seeking out more.

"You still with me, honey?"

"Yes, yes, I'm here," you answer, your voice sounding far away, distant and dreamy. Joel chuckles, the sound making you smile.

"You wanna keep going, sweetheart? Or d'ya need a minute?"

"I'm good, I'm good," you assure him, trying to lift your hips a little. "You can...keep going."

"Alright. Let me know if you change your mind, okay?"

You nod and then close your eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath as Joel pulls out, just a little, his cock dragging along your walls. It's another wave of overwhelming sensation, your entire body shaking. But it's nothing compared to the feeling when he pushes back in. The same full, aching, almost painful stretch, except it's somehow even better this time, your walls gripping him tighter, pulling him in, trying to keep him there.

"Fuck, oh my god, oh my god," you cry, your breath catching in your throat, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him. "Oh, Joel, fuck."

He's hovering over you, his brows furrowed in concentration, the muscles in his arms, chest and stomach flexing and contracting as he moves above you.

"Good?" he asks, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, his eyes hooded.

You answer with a nod, followed by a long, low moan when he starts to slowly pull out again, pushing back in a bit faster this time. He builds a rhythm, the slick drag of his cock filling you up again and again, each thrust a little deeper, a little harder, a little faster.

"You're taking it so good," he pants, his hips snapping against yours with a particularly hard thrust, the force of which has you keening and crying out his name. Your walls clench around him, a gush of slick pouring out around his cock as you subconsciously try to pull him in even further.

"God you're so fucking tight, baby. Fuckin' soaked too, dripping all over me. Fuck. So fucking wet and perfect," he groans, his voice sounding strained, almost like he's in pain. "Such a good fucking girl."

You can't do anything more than just lay there and let him fuck into you, the sounds that spill from your lips a mix of moans, whimpers and desperate little cries. Your brain feels like mush, all thought processes reduced to a single loop of his name, your lips chanting it over and over.

And Joel's not much better, the only coherent words out of his mouth a string of praises, calling you his good girl, telling you how well you're taking him, how fucking tight you are, how heavenly you feel. His hands are everywhere too, caressing, stroking, kneading, squeezing, leaving no inch of your skin untouched.

He finds a steady rhythm and you know it's not nearly as hard as he could go, not by a long shot, but every thrust and drag of his cock hits you so deep and so hard, it's a miracle that you don't shatter beneath him. And the sounds, god the sounds are so obscene, the slapping of skin against skin, the wet, squelching noises of him pounding into your dripping cunt. It's a chorus of pure debauchery, music to both of your ears, only adding to the building pleasure.

And just when you start to think that it can't possibly get any better, he hits a spot deep inside you that has your body bowing, a strangled cry tearing from your throat. You clamp down around him and he curses, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering for just a moment.

"There it is," he grunts, and you can hear the smug smirk in his voice, the absolute bastard. "Right there, huh? That the spot?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling almost all the way out, and then driving back into you, hitting the same spot dead-on. And you keen and wail, your body thrashing wildly as a new wave of ecstasy washes over you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, clawing at his back, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Yeah, I got ya," he husks, leaning down to suck and bite at the skin just below your jaw. He keeps pounding into that spot, making sure to hit it every damn time, and your vision starts to blur again, black dots dancing at the edge of your eyes.

You don't even realize you're about to come until it's crashing into you, a sudden and violent wave that threatens to tear you apart. And Joel can tell, from the way you start to shake, the way your walls are clamping down around him, the way your legs lock around his waist, and the way you're desperately gasping for air, that you're right there.

"There you go, sweetheart," he coos. "You're so fucking close aren't ya? I can feel it. You gonna come on my cock? Huh?Gonna let me feel that tight little pussy coming all over me?"

"Oh god, Joel," you sob, tears welling in your eyes, his words alone pushing you even closer.

"I know, honey. I know. Just let go, baby. C'mon, that's it. You can do it."

And then he's snaking a hand between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing rough, tight circles against the swollen bud, and the pleasure reaches its peak, the coil in your belly snapping, sending you careening off the edge. Stars burst behind your eyelids as the most intense, powerful orgasm of your life tears right through you. Every muscle in your body tenses and contracts, the rush of blood roaring in your ears as white-hot bliss erupts throughout every fiber of your being, your walls pulsing wildly, gushing slick around his cock.

He's there with you every step of the way, murmuring praise in your ear, fucking into you and grinding his cock against your cervix, prolonging your orgasm, extending it for what feels like an eternity. And then you're boneless, spent, and helplessly limp, barely aware of the way he's still rutting against you.

"So good, baby," he rasps, his voice sounding wrecked and broken. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

And then you feel him start to swell and his thrusts become erratic and you know he's right there with you, teetering on the edge, ready to fall. A few more pumps of his hips, his pace frantic and uncoordinated before he pushes himself back up on his knees and pulls out of you with a hiss. He jerks himself for half a second before spilling all over your belly and your cunt, hot, thick ropes of cum splashing against your skin. He grunts and hisses through clenched teeth, a few last drops spilling out onto your pussy, his cock throbbing against you.

You feel completely and utterly destroyed, every part of your body buzzing and tingling, still trembling. And your head feels stuffy and foggy, a hazy, peaceful kind of bliss settling deep in your bones.

Joel slumps down next to you, breathing heavy, a low, rumbling groan escaping his lips. You glance over at him, a lazy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. He's a sweaty, disheveled mess, and the sight makes your heart ache and swell, a rush of warmth flooding through your body.

He notices you looking at him and turns his head to meet your gaze, his own satisfied smile matching yours. You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling out of your throat and spilling past your lips in a breathy giggle. Joel's smile spreads even wider, his eyes sparkling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, propping himself up on his elbow and rolling onto his side.

"Nothing, I just," you giggle again, and it's almost a hysterical kind of laugh, a nervous kind of relief flooding through your body. "That was…"

Joel chuckles, brushing a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing across your forehead.

"Yeah, it was," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"And I…I just really like you, Joel. A lot. I don't know. I guess I'm just happy."

His face softens and he stares at you for a moment, his expression so fond and tender that you forget how to breathe for a moment. He leans down and kisses you, his lips gentle and warm before he pulls away.

"I guess I like you too," he murmurs, his signature smirk playing on his lips. "I dunno about a lot, but-"

"Shut up, you ass" you giggle, slapping his shoulder. "I'm trying to have a moment."

He hums delightedly and presses another kiss to your forehead."M'kay, you have your moment. I'm gonna clean you up, alright?"

You pout but let him go, letting the afterglow of your climax envelop you until he returns a moment later with a warm wet cloth. His touch is tender, gently cleaning between your legs and then wiping the cum from your belly. You're still shaking, every touch sending little aftershocks through your body.

"So," he starts, tossing the cloth into the corner of the room before looking at you expectantly. "Best lay of your life?"

You laugh, your heart bursting at the seams, your cheeks starting to hurt from smiling so hard.

"Not even close."

Thank you for reading!! I apologize in advance for any errors I do not enjoy editing!!

tagging those who asked and who might be interested:

@shewantstoknow @pedritoferg @khindahra @wand-erer5 @akah565 @thereaperisabitch @first-edition @lilyevanstan1325 @lovelyjess69 @elliesswearjar @iloveenya @harriedandharassed @c2ss1e @paleidiot @starry-eyes-love @lola8888673 @saguchiya @milla-frenchy @cayleejz @missyorkswhore @farrowroyale @abbyandersonsragdoll @glimmering-darling-dolly @katiexpunk @worhols @thecasualnope @ahintofkiwistrawberry @lulawantmula @sawymredfox @prismaticpizza @serenadingtigers @venturawriter @kyloispunk @millercontracting @jjhayhay20 @bitchesuntitled @bean-is-reading @lvl-2005 @kamcrazy123 @covetyou @survivingandenduring @pinkiec6-rubi @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @pedroshotwifey @perfectlyfreeanalyst @plsdontmisfire @lokigonnakmsforbucky @kr-ickl3

I will not tag ageless/faceless (no pfp) blogs. If you asked to be tagged and weren't you either did not have an age/pfp or Tumblr wouldn't let me :(

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

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xxblairexxss · 1 year

Text

Cherry tomato?

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

In which you did a Tiktok prank on your boyfriend and he nearly fainted.

You were sprawling on the couch, giggling and chuckling at your phone. You had been watching Tiktok and there was this trend going on where you told your dad or significant other about a $100 for a premium air so you wanted to try it on Charles.

Charles didn’t reply and you didn’t expect him to. He had a meeting with a brand so he had told you earlier that he won’t be able to reply to you immediately but you told him it won’t be a problem as you wouldn’t be going anywhere.

“Hi, baby.” Charles came home and placed his watch on the dining table before giving you a peck on your cheek.

“Oh, hi!”

“Where did you go today? I thought you said you had no plan?”

“Ah, I went to get these!” You popped a slice of cherry tomato into your mouth and offered one to him. Charles then went to your side and leaned over so you could feed him. “It was crazy expensive, wasn’t it?”

He was already walking to the fridge to get himself a drink while still chewing on the cherry tomato. “Sorry?”

“I can’t believe it was that expensive!” You threw in another cherry tomato into your mouth.

“The cherry tomatoes?”

“No, the air!”

Charles frowned before closing the fridge and ambled his way back to where he was by your side. He was clearly confused, it looked like he had question marks all over his head and you had to control your laughter. “What air are you talking about, baby?”

“The tire pressure! I never knew they charge you £50 per tire!”

“What? Who told you that?” Charles tilted his head to catch on your gaze.

“The guy at the tire shop! He was like ‘you have to pay £50 for this’.” You mimicked the way the guy supposedly talk.

“Was he trying to tell you a joke?”

“No, he wasn’t! I was supposed to pay £200 for all four tires because he told me all of them were under-inflated but he gave me a discount so I only had to pay £100 which was a good deal because that meant I paid what…like £25 per tires.”

“Wait, wait. Slow down. I’m confused.” Charles shook his head as if he was trying to shake off those question marks and pushed the bowl of cherry tomatoes away so you could stop munching on them and pay attention to him. “So, you are saying that you paid £100 for the air?”

“I paid £100 instead of £200, yeah.” You shrugged and pulled the bowl closer to take another cherry tomato.

“Baby, stop.” He held your wrist before you could touch them.

“Why?”

“You paid £100 for air?”

“Yes, mon beau. It was a good discount I know. He probably gave the discount because I looked pretty today.” You retracted you arm away from his grip to go back to the cherry tomatoes.

“Stop, stop.”

“Charles!” You scowled at him and crossed your arms.

“They didn’t give you a discount, they scammed you!”

“What? Why?” You could get an Oscar for the facial expression alone.

“You were supposed to pay 50 cents for it. No one paid that much! Are you crazy?” He gasped in horror and looked like he could faint any moment.

“It wasn’t me! It was the guy!”

“I’m gonna give them a call.” He heaved a sigh and was about to walk away to get his phone before you casually replied, giving him another heart attack.

“He said it was a premium air.” You tried making it sound like a mumble but it was clear, clear enough to make his ears red as he turned back to look at his girlfriend who looked so nonchalant that he wished he could knock some sense into her head.

“What did you say?”

“It was premium air. He said it was more crisp than the normal one.”

“Baby, my blood pressure has reached my head and I’m getting goosebumps. Please tell me this is a joke.”

“I’m not joking! I paid them cash.”

“You paid them cash? Why would you pay them cash? Now we can’t even file a complain because we have no proof.”

“They said they only accept cash. Do you want another cherry tomato?”

“Oh my god, baby.” Charles had no other words to continue this conversation so he just heaved a sigh again and leaned his forehead against your shoulder.

“I’m just kidding! It was a prank.” You giggled and stroked on his back.

“What?”

“It was a prank!”

He stood up straight and pinched on the middle of his brows. “Please don’t do that again. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“You should have seen your face! It was so cute!” You chuckled and pinched on his nose.

“No more cherry tomatoes for you. Give me that.”

“Wait, no!”

#f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader

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wildesqdreams · 2 months

Text

canceled plans, sweet love

summary - sometimes you have to experience pain again and again, even if it's caused by friends, until you find that person who would fall into tartarus for you.

pairing - percy jackson x fem!reader.

warnings - angst (not because of our man), but percy saves the day, kissing/making out.

navigation | masterlist | request | taglist

a/n: i wrote this in one sitting, why? because this actually happened to me. am i okay? no, i'm not... but i hope u guys like it!

you know what's the biggest problem with selfless people? they usually end up as idiots, lying in bed listening to radiohead and still WONDERING how they can make others feel better.

it was 3pm. she was supposed to be back at 7. percy knew it, so he went out skateboarding with his new colleagues that he has befriended.

y/n knew it, too. she had planned the day out. well her and her friends. a lake day, a long needed reunion, since she didn't see them for quite a while.

the thing is she was so sentimental and she was waiting when she could finally see her friends again. and as she was told, they were too. but then why did the plans suddenly change? and why did suddenly everyone have to leave 5 hours earlier than intended?

a tear rolled down her face, and she hid her face in the blanket.

god, she felt so stupid. always listening. always trying. always waiting. ALWAYS CHASING OTHERS. but in the end, being left alone like a piece of shit.

it may seem dramatic. but when all your lifetime you have been the one running after and being ditched, it just makes you feel so embarrassing and lonely. so fucking lonely.

she felt something vibrate. she reached for her phone under the pillow, hoping for some apologies, but all she got was a notification from the weather app. y/n put her phone back down on the bed, closing her eyes, trying to fall asleep. trying to run away from her clouded mind.

some minutes passed, and she heard the apartment doors open. there was some shuffling before she heard a voice yell from the foyer, "hey, baby, you're already back?!"

percy.

the girl felt the nerves in her body come back alive. how stupid. such an idiot. dumb. dumb. dumb.

"weren't you supposed to be at home much later," she heard him come to the bedroom, "not that i'm complaining or anything," percy set the keys on the cupboard in the room.

y/n just hummed.

"ey," the boy went to the bed, sitting down, where she was lying on her side. he placed his hand on her upper thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb, "did something happen?"

"no, everything is fine," she put on a small smile, as she sat up, percy's hand sliding up and down her leg, that was covered with the blanket, "so, how was your day? have fun?"

percy squeezed her thigh before putting his hand on the bed beside it, the other reaching for her hair, pushing it behind her ear, "baby," he kissed her cheek, that was stained with tears, resting his other hand on the other side of the bed, traping her between his arms, "don't lie to me."

"perce, i'm fine, really."

"then why have you been crying?"

y/n shrugged, "watched a sad movie."

"and why are you home so early?"

"got bored, decided that i wanted to leave," she tried to act unbothered, but percy could see right through her. of course he could.

"y/n," he sat closer, as he put his arms around her, "fuck em," he pulled her closer.

she tried to smile, but tears started to spill again, "again, no big deal."

she heard him sigh, "i hate when you just act like it's okay, when it's not, " he rubbed his hand up and down her back, "i just wished you had called me, i would be here in a heartbeat-"

"percy-"

"i'm serious, y/n," he pulled back, resting his hands on her cheeks, "i'm here, baby, always. i'm not gonna just throw you away. if you need me, i'm here," he rested his forehead against hers, "those idiots aren't worth your tears. gods, pretty, you deserve so much better than them."

she smiled, tears still in her eyes. the girl gave him a peck on his nose, "i'll live, i mean, i have you. that's more than i could ask for."

she felt his hands go down to her waist, lying her back down, as he climbed on top of her, giving her soft kisses on her neck, "that's right, baby. just remeber that," he trailed his lips up her neck, "don't want you forgeting what you mean to me," her hands went to his hair, as his kisses traveled up to her mouth, "i love you so much, y/n."

"i love you, perce," the boy captured her lips into a passionate kiss.

but the best thing about selfless people? they are patient enough to wait for the right people to come into their lives and make all the tears and pain be replaced with endless love.

"but really," she mumbled into the kiss, "how did it go?"

percy just laughed, "let's just say we both should just stick with each other," and with that, he placed his lips back on hers.

taglist: @pleasingregulus

#percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson fic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson angst #percy jackson fluff #pjo x you #pjo x y/n #pjo x reader #pjo fanfic #pjo #pjo fandom

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morosis-haze · 1 year

Text

Bakugou slowly moving you into his apartment

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!black reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: a curse word I believe that’s it

❒ Bakugou who doesn’t really want to admit it, but he’s been getting used to your presence on those days you come over to the point he wants you to stay the night

❒ Bakugou who was asking or coming up with excuses on why you shouldn’t leave “There’s a few more episodes til we finish the season” You might as well stay on the couch cuddled up with him only a few more episodes until you could leave, right?

❒ It was all a plan leading to the “It’s late you should stay over tonight” He says it like he didn’t have you stay at his place until it was pitch black. How could you argue it was normal to not want your girlfriend out late there were a bunch of dangerous things that lurked the night, even if you’re also a pro hero who could defend yourself fine until you get home

❒ Bakugou who heard you talk about how multiple mornings and nights he is ruining your routine so he gets stuff you need

❒ It started small with him buying another toothbrush paired with a cover on it, it stood next to his in the cup. If you ask about it he’ll only say “So? You’re over here so damn much complaining about not having a toothbrush.” He acts as if you’re the one inviting yourself over

❒ “Maybe I’ll come over less.. y’know actually sleep in my apartment” You see his gaze flicker for a second before he grunts out “Well that’s not needed anymore” he moves onto a different topic ignoring the teasing smile on your face

❒ Bakugou kept slowly trying to move you in never mentioning it to you. He’d rather not deal with you being smug. That wasn’t gonna help though.

❒ Next time you come over to Bakugou's apartment you smell the scent of your favorite candle that said man had previously complained about when he was at your place “I thought you hated this scent” he looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about “What scent?” You point to the recently burned-out candle “It grew on me” he rolls his eyes seeing you smile about it, but you can see the slight pull of one on his face

❒ You were both coming from a party a class 1a reunion if you will though there seems to be plenty of those as the students all got close over the years. Bakugou was the one who picked you up and was gonna drop you off home though he had different plans.

❒ You were busy about to post pictures of Mina and you along with the rest of the girls when you finally look up onto the road “Isn’t this the way to your apartment?” You glance at him as he continues “ ’m too tired to notice… you wanna just sleepover?”

❒ Maybe he really was tired and used to all the times of you staying over it was becoming an instinct. You were able to see the weary expression on his face and you didn’t wanna make him turn back around to drop you home so you’ll stay over…again

❒ Used to all the nights over here you go into one of his drawers planning on wearing something of his own but you notice everything in it is different it’s not a lot, but there were now a few clothes in your size and there were three bonnets in different colors and patterns

❒ “Katsuki are you changing your style?” He goes into his room raising an eyebrow at your question “You know I didn’t really take you for the bonnet kinda guy, especially one of this color but you do.” You picked up a patterned one a smug look on your face

❒ He huffs electing to ignore your comment too tired to be bothered he mutters “It’s for you” before he goes back into the bathroom letting you change in his room

❒ You get done changing and head to the bathroom knocking on the door before being allowed in you brush your teeth alongside him as you both finish up he nods to something on the counter you didn’t notice it was your favorite cleanser

❒ You both continue with your routines before heading to bed he seems to have a small smile on his face maybe because you aren’t complaining or seeing you look even slightly happier from his actions improved his mood

❒ The weeks continue you stay a little longer in the morning and you’re not as reluctant on staying the night. Bakugou gets more things for you, anything to make you more comfortable so maybe you could stay longer than last time

❒ Your favorite snacks were in his pantry, a duplicate of your lotion next to his so you no longer use up your travel-sized bottle from your purse, but what you weren’t expecting is the new silk pillowcases

❒ Bakugou may have overheard Mina talking about her new pillowcases and how they’re so amazing, as he listened it sounded like it could benefit you so he looked into it

❒ Sure he could’ve just given them to you for your own bedroom, but he used them in his even though the purpose of them being here is for you

❒ “I can’t tell if you’re getting bougie or if you genuinely wanted silk pillowcases..” you joked looking at the man as he climbed into his bed with you “They’re good for your hair and shit” “Good for my hair… you got silk pillowcases because of me?” He doesn’t look at you as he answers “There are other benefits it’s not just cause of you...”

❒ There goes a smug expression returning back to your face “Careful I might just stay here forever, Katsuki” You give him his goodnight kiss before laying down as he turns off the lights you hear him say “Maybe that’s what I want”

𝐀/𝐍: Back from the hiatus I’ll be redoing my taglist so if you want to join it fill out this form

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egoistars · 14 days

Text

HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn��t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.

He really can’t wait to come home.

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby

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i-yap · 4 months

Text

Batboys and y/n at gala ( nigthwing and jason ver_)

I really suggest checking out 'type of y/n I ship with batboys post " to get a better idea of the type of y/n I write per batboy

dick- shower s'x as a good luck before leaving is non negotiable .Hyper when getting ready, wants his hair to look great, wants you to compliment him and will take hayley no matter what. is lowkey excited to go. Will blast music and have a car karaoke. Walks around the whole gala, talks to everyone and pulls you along with him. Proly has to give a speech which he absolutely rocks. charming , charismatic and an amazing conversationalist . spends most time with grandmas at the party, they are the only people he will allow to leave you with. You do have an option to hang out with his siblings and make fun of him otherwise you are stuck with him till the end. Will prolly be the last to leave, helps alfred round up his siblings. Everyone thinks you're the luckiest person in the world cuz u just got the whole lottery of people by getting dick but he is sure to remind you how much he needs you, especially when trying to power through a boring ass gala. Once the event is over, boy is drained . super tired and sleepy. help him out of his shirt and cuddle him,. slow and sweet s'x which may or may not turn into more but he just needs some loving and peace. poor thing had to make so much small talk his brain hurts. give him a head rub. will get you flowers or chocolates the next day as a thanks for dealing with the gala cuz he knows how boring those things get.

Jason- He doesnt wanna go. say the word and u guys aren't going. but you promised alfred or ,maybe you thought it'll be fun. plus u get to see him in a suit which is sooohot jfejqfbq .. anyways complains while getting ready, super grumpy give him a kiss to shut him up. Will try to seduce you out of going...may succeed and get you late / cancel. Will also try to touch u in the car so be sure to just keep suching his hand away. will ruin your lipstick and if u like me wear lip stain.. well u should prolly cancel cuz he is gonna stain everything. Just wear transfer proof lipstick with clear gloss and carry a clear gloss. Follows your lead in the gala , or stands in a nice corner with you with him. Don't you dare leave him with these rich bastards he will stab someone. Will find some way of getting you out of their asap which means quickie in the car or the bathroom. now you are too ruined to go back to the gala . so you guys just go to the nearest fast food restaurant/ diner and pick the corner booth His suit jacket on you cuz he might have torn your dress a little , his tie tied like a pirate scarf on your head and his top 3 shirt buttons undone. you guys throw fries at one another and are prolyl tipsy from the gala champagne. i would not be surprised if jason stole a bottle just as a "fuck the rich thing" . You guys for sure end up in the newspaper the next day but who cares. go home singing stupid girly pop songs , arms interlinked, drunk in the gotham snow. prolly fuck you again once you get home cuz u just looked so hot. dw he'll buy you a new dress bbg.

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mythicmanuscripts · 1 month

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Hi! It's me again! 🤗

I was reading about the awful things that happened to Aegon in the brothel. Him so desperately trying to be taken care of and only finding more abuse broke my heart 🥺 and also got me thinking... What if he doesn't have a good, loving wife to make it all better? 😭 What if instead, one of the workers (Reader) finally takes pity on him and treats him the way he needs so much? Taking him away from the awful workers and under her wing? I imagine he would become instantly addicted. Never letting other worker touch him again. Only accepting her services. I bet he would get possessive as well. Paying an enormous amount of gold to be the only one that can touch her.

Do you think he would dare bring her to live in the castle? Or even more scandalous, actually MARRY her? Or he would be too scared of his pious mother's reaction (as well as the rest of the kingdoms') to a whore becoming queen? There is also the possibility of him just gifting her a big house with servants, close to the castle, so he can visit whenever he wants needs... Sooooo many possibilities! 😳

What do you think?

Oh my god. Are you sure you don't want to take over this blog because this is INCREDIBLE??? I am obsessed. I actually think I'm gonna tag this with 'subby Aegon!au' so that we can discuss this more and you guys can easily use the tag to find everything about this because I fear this may be my new obsession.

Anyway, NSFW sub!aegon that starts very angsty but has a happy ending under the cut!!

So for anyone who missed the post that inspired this, we were discussing how Aegon would know he was a submissive and go to a brothel to submit to the workers there. He desperately wants to just be loved and cared for and feel like a good boy but none of the workers will do that and he doesn't quite have the language to explain what he wants/needs. So instead he just ends up going through all this abuse and humiliation and degradation just to hear them say he did well at the end. He always goes into subdrop afterwards and he feels so terrible but he also can't stop going because it's the only time that he actually feels like he's good enough.

For this AU, I think it makes the most sense that you first encounter Aegon after he's had a scene with someone else? Cause Aegon always pays very VERY well and so the brothel workers who have dominated him always ensure that no one else can lay with him because they want all that money? Like maybe the madam of the brothel you work at has a very strict rule that no one other than her is allowed to lay with the king. Of course there's plenty of rumours going around the brothel about what he likes he and pretty much everyone knows that the madam dominates him.

You first encounter Aegon after he finished a particularly brutal scene with the madame. Half an hour later when the madam wants to use that room again he's still laying there? He hasn't even gotten dressed, is just laying there with a thin blanket wrapped around himself.

The madam does not want to deal with him because she knows from experience that he gets all clingy and weepy after a scene and so she sends you in to kick him out. Well, she tells you to kick him out.

But then you walk in and he just... he looks so small? You slowly walk over and gently place your hand on his shoulder. He jumps up and scrambles off the bed, mumbling apologies because he knows the madam told him to leave and he still hadnt.

You quickly tell him it's alright, that he's done nothing wrong and the look he gives you is just so heartbreaking? He's all wide eyed and shocked and there's a very very small smile on his face when he whispers, "Really? I... you're sure? I'm good?"

Which, yeah there's no way you're kicking him out now. You help him get back into his clothes and then take him to your private room. The rule is supposed to be no clients in the personal quarters, but this is quite literally the king so you don't see anyone complaining.

You keep an arm wrapped around his waist, guiding him like that and he just leans against you? You can't believe that the madam doesn't stay with him after she dominates him, especially because he's just so sweet? He's leaning against you, mumbling thanks and letting you lead him without complaint. He's so sweet and vulnerable and you can't believe the madam would leave him and not care for him.

He's so shocked when he finds himself in your private quarters, and he's even more surprised when you wet a rag and gently clean the tears off his face. He leans into every one of your touches, trying to soak up as much attention as he can.

You ask him if you can undress him again so you can clean him properly, and he just starts sobbing and throws himself in your arms because he can't believe how lucky he is. You just hold him and tell him that he's doing so good, that you just want to get him cleaned up a little more and then he can take a nice nap with you.

He closes his eyes and cries silently as you clean him. There are welts on his back from the madam's whip so you have to ensure you clean them properly or risk infection. You expect to have to clean dried cum from between his thighs but to your surprise there's nothing?

When you ask, he just wines and mumbles, "Wasnt good, couldnt cum" which just breaks your heart because you refuse to entertain any possibility that this sweet little thing wasnt absolutely perfect.

You finish cleaning him and you're about to help him get his clothes back on when he just kinda collapses onto the bed. You don't even bother with that then and instead you just get into bed with him.

"Come here," you tell him, opening your arms and he immediately dives right in. You hold him tight and when you press a kiss to the e top of his head he just melts into you.

When he wakes, he's hard. He tries to apologise for it but you won't hear it, and you ask if you can help him. He tries to shake his head and say that he can't go through that again, but then you interrupt him and promise him that you only mean helping him cum and do nothing else.

He's so sweet when you stroke him, mumbling how good it feels and begging to cum and after he does, he even takes your hand and licks it clean? He's just the bed boy and he's clearly trying so so hard to please you, so you make sure to praise him constantly because the poor thing deserves it.

The next time he comes to the brothel, he tells the madam to get lost and asks for you. He won't even consider another, not after you cared for him and praised him and made him feel safe. Of course the madam is not happy about this, but she cant stop him and so he goes to the room and waits for you.

When you walk in and ask why he's asked for you, he just says that he really liked you from before. And then he actually looks nervous? Like you might tell him that he has to go back to the madam.

You tell him that as much as you'd love to, you can't do what the madam does to him. You explain that you can't degrade him or slap him or anything like that. But then he just smiles even wider and tells you he doesn't want that, he just wants what you did last time.

He seems all blushy and nervous and there's a very obvious tent in his breeches. You smirk then and say, "Aw, do you want me to take care of you? Yeah? Let me do all the thinking and you can just be my pretty good boy?"

Instantly he's slipping from the bed and down onto his knees, kneeling and nodding comically quick because yes. That's everything he's ever wanted and more.

And he's just so good for you? He listens to every single order, and he begs so prettily and his sounds are just insane. When it's over, you pull him into your chest and kiss his head and tell him he did so so well for you. He's just on cloud nine, because this is absolutely everything he's ever wanted and more.

When he leaves, he pays you double what he pays the Madam and when you tell him that's too much, he says that there's no amount of gold in the world that could be enough to thank you for how you looked after him. He asks if he can come back, if you'll let him do that again and of course you agree to let him.

The madam isnt happy with you of course, but she can't exactly force the king to lay with her instead. For about three weeks things continue like that, with Aegon visiting every few days and paying you very very handsomely. He always stays for a few hours after this, just getting cuddles and kisses.

After a while, the madam comes to you and is unhappy that Aegon will not be with anyone else. Aegon pays very handsomely and he also lets them basically beat him up, so of course the madam is unhappy that she no longer get aegon's time. Aegon, meanwhile, will not even look at another.

The next time Aegon comes to the brothel, you're with another client? As much as you wish that you could just see Aegon, if you did that then the madam would kick you out. The madam is overjoyed when Aegon walks in and you're with another client, because it means she can swoop in and tell Aegon you're busy but that she'd be more than happy to do it instead.

And Aegon just... he knew that obviously you had other clients, but knowing and actually being there while you were with someone else are two different things. His smile falls instantly, and he says that he doesn't want anyone else. The madam tries again, maybe even touching him and telling him to think about all the good times they had, which prompts him to stumble backwards and very firmly say that he won't be seeking the services of anyone else.

He ends up leaving the brothel and then comes back the following night and is so so relieved to find that you are free. He's much more whiney and clingy than you're used to, to the point where he cries if you even let go of his hand. You end up having to pull away o ask what's going on, because he seems very distressed. You hadnt seen him like that since you took care of him that first night.

He gets quiet and then eventually asks how many other men you see every day. You sigh, because you knew this question was coming and you're not sure what to say to him. You end up just saying that this is your job, and that the madam is already upset with you for being the only one he goes to so you can't risk only seeing him because then you'd almost certainly be kicked out of the brothel entirely and have no wear to live.

Before you had even finished speaking Aegon had already made up his mind to give you enough gold that you never have to be with anyone else. You try to tell him that's not necessary, but for him it absolutely is. He will not allow the only person who makes him feel good in the entire seven kingdoms to struggle to earn a living when he is quite literally the king.

At first you turn him down, stating that you have to earn your own way and that you can't rely on him.

And then he goes quiet for a moment before he just softly says, "But, I rely on you? We can rely on each other?" Which is just the sweetest thing you've ever heard. You kiss his head and let him curl against your chest, giving him a little squeeze before telling him that you won't let him pay everything, but you will ket him pay enough to the madam that she will allow you to only take clients of your choice and also to set aside 4 nights every week that are just for him. It's not everything he wanted, but it's pretty damn close. And Aegon is so obsessed with you that he will absolutely take 4 days a week of your undivided attention.

It carries on like that for a while, with you and him being together 4 nights a week and he's just... he's so sweet and he's so perfect and he loves being with you so much. Maybe sometimes he doesn't even want anything sexual? Which yeah is wild cause Aegon is pretty much always horny, but when he's getting so thoroughly fucked every second day, sometimes he just wants to be with you.

Even when he doesn't want something sexual, that is not at all to say he doesn't still want to come be with you. Aegon would sleep in the same bed as you every single night if he could. He also just loves being able to talk to you about his day? You always listen to him and offer him advice. He's never really even able to feel like he can decompress at the end of the day, but now he's always able to with you. He knows that the moment he walks through the doors, you will know how to help him.

I think that eventually you'd accept his offer of him being your only client, and the day you tell him that he is smiling and giggling for the entire day. He definitely buys you a little cottage close to the keep, and as much as you try to say he doesn't need to, he won't hear it.

In fact he actually loves providing for you like that? You do so so much for him and he knows he'd never be able to function without you and so to know that he can do something to help you is just amazing and it makes him so so so happy.

I absolutely adore this concept!! This ask is already insanely long so I'm not gonna go any further here but if anyone else has thoughts about this let me know!!! I'd love to discuss it more :))

#subby Aegon!au #sub!aegon #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon smut #aegon the second #king aegon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd

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retroaria · 1 month

Text

Domestic Life w/ Osamu Dazai ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

summary: life with agency!dazai, days off, date nights, the whole shabang!

warnings: slightly suggestive at some points (not sure if MDNI is necessary but keep it in mind) NOT SAD AND MISERABLE CANON DAZAI!!! Pretend he is happy and joyous for this, why would he want to die when he has you? Not proofread!!

BSD M.LIST | enjoy 🐈 - aria

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The days where Dazai can fully devote himself to you are unfortunately far and few. On top of that, he’s a rather forgetful man. He saves all his reports for the last minute, needing to finish them up while everyone else is already gone (or spend just as much time begging Atsushi to do them for him). He makes plans, promises, deals, all of which take up his time aside from the usual agency agenda.

You know that Dazai loves what he does, so you put up with it. At the very least he still comes home almost every night, flops himself down on the bed and wraps his arms tight around you. And he’ll still be there in the morning. flashing you a warm smile as you wake up to see him adjusting the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door. The purely intimate moments you get to experience together always happen in the dead of night or at the crack of dawn.

Aside from that, as well as all the work related events Dazai brings you to, his days off don’t come often. Whenever the stars align and those days do happen to fall upon you, you know immediately as you wake up in the morning. He’s still wrapped around you, arms and legs, almost in a death grip. He would’ve left for work by now if he had too, not that he hasn’t slept in late before, but his suit is still sprawled on the floor of your room. He hadn’t taken the time to wash it or hang it back up because he wouldn’t be needing it the next day.

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These days begin with an absolute power struggle in the bedroom (not the fun kind). This man will not wake up and will not let you out of bed. He will whine and groan and sometimes even shed tears at the fact that you would ever want to leave him when he finally can spend a morning with you. “Dazai we still have stuff to do today, you can just hold me captive.”

“Do you hate me Bella, is that it? Has our love truly dwindled? I finally have the chance to engulf you in my affection and you want no part of it.” He’ll give you a full Shakespearean style monologue about how cruel it is that you would deny his neediness.

“Oh my god Osamu, you are so dramatic”

Eventually you do escape his grasp and leave the bedroom to start the day, to which he must follow suit. These days are spent with Dazai following you around like a lost puppy.

He follows you to the bathroom, you guys get ready together, he sits on the toilet while you shower, talking to you through the curtain about all the recent agency drama, casually mentioning all the times he’s almost died in the last week alone. (He’s also sneaking peaks of you, slyly pulling the curtain back when you won’t notice)

On days where the two of you get to go out you always let him pick your outfit. Dazai’s list of skills typically pertain to crime and manipulation, but style and fashion is somewhere in there too. He’s usually wearing simple jeans and a crew neck, but he wants you to look like a runway model next to him. “Gosh you look beautiful, gonna make me look like the luckiest guy in the world standing next to you!” he gushes in a sing-song tone.

The first order of business is breakfast, a task which Dazai wants desperately to help you with, but always fails miserably. You opt to let him make coffee for you two, which he adorns with an ungodly amount of sugar and creamer. you’ve been drinking Dazais coffee for so long you’ve grown to like it. It’s like a sweet treat with breakfast, nothing you could complain about. If he gets his hands on a frying pan you’re truly doomed, so this is the one thing you let him have. He can handle the toaster too so he’ll make toast for you guys with jam on it that he spreads on in the shape of a heart with a smiley face in the middle “Dona’ look, can you tell what it is?” he says with a smirk of confidence on his face.

“Very sweet Osamu, your hearts are getting better and better” You can’t actually tell what it is but you know he does the same thing every time. You grab the toast from him and plant a kiss on his cheek, it’s like his reward.

One of Dazai’s favorite things in the world is going to the grocery store with you. It’s such a simple task, that always ends up being so much fun. He relishes in the domesticity of it. It feels almost intimate in a way, it’s something you both would have to do if you were apart, but you’re together, so you do it together for the both of you. He loves being reminded that you are a part of his life in every way.

But god is he troublesome

Dazai is the kind of person to stay at the sample stand and talk to the employee for forever. After about 10 minutes he knows their geographical lineage, their favorite flavor of ice cream, their mother’s maiden name, the name of the high school they went to, the name of their first love, but then he gets bored and moves on. Btw he ate the whole tray of samples while he was talking to them, but made sure to swipe one for you before he bounced. “Don’t think I forgot about you darling” he’d wink as he hands you the cup.

Once you guys get everything you need you head back home. Dazai is a gentleman and is obviously carrying all the heavy bags, but not without complaining. “I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of milk”

“I have the milk, that’s the bag with the 10lb rice”

“I don’t remember us getting 3 tons of rice either.”

When the two of you get home he acts like he just got back from a 12 hour shift, like he’s been fighting an enemy organization all the day, like he’s been strategizing with Ranpo for hours, like he just had to get rescued by Chuuya. He helps you put the groceries away and throws himself onto the couch.

Once he notices you’ve start cooking he returns from his corpse like state on the couch and peaks over at you. He likes watching you cook because you look so focused yet so relaxed at the same time (I’m sorry if you don’t like to cook oops) . He likes to try and read your mind whenever he watches you do things.

Eventually he’ll get up and walk over to the record player in your living room. As you’re chopping away you notice the feint sound of a jazzy tune ringing away behind you, before you can turn around to see the source there is a pair of hands on your hips, swaying you from side to side. “Osamu, I have a knife in my hand”

“That’s never stopped me from anything before in my entire life” he hums away, pushing his body up against yours as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. You guys stay like that as you continue to cook, him humming into your shoulder, planting soft kisses as you simply sway to and forth.

“This is really nice, but I’m about to start chopping onions.” You lied, you were already chopping them.

“Augh god, my eyes! Why would you ruin the moment!?”

“I have to make dinner ‘samu!”

After dinner you guys both enter a corpse like state on the couch, snuggled together, either watching a movie or a parallel play type thing, usually both of you reading your respective books. During this time Dazai can be rather clingy, wanting to literally lay on top of you or have you lay on top of him. He also needs to get your opinion on whatever is happening in the movie or this crazy new suicide method he saw in his book (it’s a novelty interest now, how could he want to die when he has you!)

As bed time approaches, Dazai gets into the shower and it’s your turn to sit in the bathroom with him and tell him about all of your own work drama. Unlike Dazai, your peaks behind the curtain aren’t very sly “hey I see you~” he’d say in a teasing tone.

When the two of you finally get into bed, a wave of sadness washes over Dazai. He is unpleasantly reminded that he has to go to work tomorrow. His little life with you would end once morning came and he’d go back to having to use 100% of his brain power to focus on anything but you. He dreaded the thought and all he can do now to eleviate the pain is pull you close beside him. He plants a million kisses on your face before pulling your lips against his into a deeper kiss that usually lasts until both of you are tired and slightly out of breath.

At this point you begin to drift off to sleep in each others arms. You awaken the next morning to Dazai flashing you a warm smile as he adjusts the collar of his suit, throwing his jacket over his shoulder before planting a soft kiss to your lips and heading out the door.

• ───────── ·𖥸· ───────── •

I FINALLY wrote something for my husband Dazai. I hope you guys enjoy and I can’t wait to keep writing I’m having so much fun here!! Stay safe guys and much love 🤍🤍🤍 -aria

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stinkyturd · 1 month

Text

Your Fragrance

Pairing: Romeo Lucci/Reader

Comments: It's Romeo, so it's gonna be a little possessive and weird. If that makes you uncomfortable, this probably isn't your cup of tea. Also, I absolutely hate naming throwaway characters, but I did here to avoid confusion, haha. So, if for some reason you're second guessing if you're misremembering a canon side character, you're not. 🙂‍↕️

Working for Romeo could be exhausting.

The Sinostra vice-captain always had something for you. Be it helping out with casino security, sending out reminders for outstanding loans, or doing menial errands like fetching him various products he may need to keep his skin hydrated or his hair in mint condition. Sometimes he'd even message you at ungodly hours when you were tucked away, seconds from slumbering at your cathedral.

Overall, you didn't mind. It's not like you HAD to do it. Darkwick hadn't been quite as needy with sending you out on inspector related errands, so you had the time, and you didn't mind Romeo's company. Sure, his personality is completely abrasive and an acquired taste, but underneath it all he had some redeeming qualities. And for some reason he chose you to hire as an assistant. You didn't get paid much. In fact, it was lower than minimum wage. You're pretty sure you could get a part-time job around the campus that would be far more fruitful with less work.

And now that you were on consistent speaking terms, it was a lot easier to find ways to get under his skin. It was kind of fun pushing him to that level of irritation just before it all boils over. Oddly enough, a scrunched up scowl really highlighted his devastatingly pretty features. You're not sure you've seen anything quite like it on anyone else before.

Right now, you are sitting next to him on the massive sectional sofa in the VIP room, listening to him rant about trivial anecdotes while you check his email for him.

"I don't want to deal with these degenerates speaking to me any longer!" Romeo huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You need to establish a precedent in this place that no one should talk to me without pre-approved incentive!"

Your eyes remain locked on the laptop in front of you as you attempt to read over a document sent to you by one of the vice-captain's subordinates, while still acknowledging Romeo's ramblings. "I can give it a shot. What happened this time?"

"A fool from Frostheim came in this morning. That USP told me that the new cashmere divan I purchased for the lobby is tacky! What the fuck does he know about quality luxury...?! That buffoon probably washes his face with hand soap, if he does at all!"

You smirk a little at that, clumsily scrolling the page in front of you with just a trackpad. "Is he a regular?"

"Yes, it's that idiot that always sits at the table by the high limit slots! The one with those shitty, thick-framed, square glasses!" Romeo leans back into the sofa, folding his arms across his chest.

"Oh...?" Your lips tug into a mischievous smirk. "I think I remember that guy. Dark hair, super clear skin? Has good taste in cologne?" The student he's referring to does actually have dark hair. You remember because it's not the first time Romeo has complained about him. The rest of the description you gave is entirely fabricated.

You catch a glimpse of the vice-captain's reaction in your peripheral vision. If looks could kill.

Romeo narrows his fuchsia eyes at you. "Have you lost your mind?! Clear skin?" The vice-captain leans in close, jabbing a gloved finger to his face. "This! This is clear skin!"

"Oh, for real?" You don't look up as you suppress a shit-eating grin, tapping away at the keyboard in front of you.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, nitwit! I can't have my BB of an assistant prancing around thinking that some Frostheim pig's face even compares to mine!" Romeo removes the laptop from your lap, setting it on the low-profile table in front of you.

You flick your gaze over to his face that's less than a foot from yours. Placing a hand on your chin, you pretend to examine his skin. "Hmm... really? I don't see the difference."

You did. No one's skin glows as much as the man in front of you.

Romeo clenches his jaw so tightly you're almost concerned he's going to grind down his perfect teeth. "You don't see the difference...?! Perhaps we should get your eyes checked! And you're supposed to be the one surveying the EITS?!"

"But you agree his cologne is pretty solid?" Your lips twitch as the vice-captain's face comically becomes more animated with each snarky comment you make.

"That fool may as well be rolling around with a wet dog! Whatever bootleg fragrance he wears does not match his pH! How far away were you from that imbecile to draw that conclusion?!" Romeo shouts indignantly.

You're no longer able to keep up the act, your lips peeling into a full on grin as a giggle escapes you.

This only seems to irritate Romeo further. "And what's so funny?!"

"I was only teasing you. I've never been close enough to smell him. Definitely not close enough to see his pores."

"Y-You...!" Romeo's face flushes in a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "For what purpose, fool?!"

"You look cute when you're all mad," You say like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Sorry, Boss. You make it too easy."

"Do you know how much my collagen cream costs? If you expedite the rate in which I obtain wrinkles, you will be my servant until the day you die to pay me back!" Romeo growls.

"How scary," You tease, tearing your gaze from the man shouting at such close proximity. If he stays like that any longer while you face him, you may actually start blushing. Reaching forward, you set the portable computer back in your lap.

"Fucking right, it's scary! I'll make sure your income is so low that you'll be taking residence in my private office," Romeo huffs, finally sitting back as he was before.

You snort. "Are you going to make me stay in my underwear too, like you did with Kaito?"

"You'll be lucky if you are even granted that amount of decency," Romeo spats.

Heat crawls up your neck at the implication.

"...Wow. Pervert." You're barely able to say it without your voice nervously cracking.

"Tch...! Don't flatter yourself," Romeo counters. A vibration, followed by a ringing sound emanates from his dress pants. The vice-captain stands, pulling his cell phone out. Before he answers it, he shoots you a glare. "You're in need of some serious TLC in order for that to be any concern of yours."

"Oh? That's okay, you're not my type anyway," You lie, as you return your attention to the email in front of you.

"Excuse me...?!" Romeo flits his furious gaze from you then back to the phone. "This conversation isn't over! Just you wait…!" The Sinostra vice-captain drags a finger across his phone's screen, then brings it to his ear. As if the caller on the other end is physically present, Romeo relaxes his face with his tone before replying. "Hello...? Right, when…?"

The vice-captain paces around the room mumbling vague replies to the mystery receiver. After a minute or so, he hangs up and stalks back in your direction.

You pretend you don't notice him as you continue working, anticipating verbal outlash. Instead, you feel a weight sit alarmingly close to your side. Your hand stills on the track pad in front of you when Romeo wraps an arm around your backside.

"(Y/N)~" The vice-captain speaks so close to your ear that involuntary chills run up your spine.

You weren't that startled by the gesture. Romeo did this occasionally when he wanted something. Trying to act all sultry to fluster you to the point of accepting his request. That was further confirmed by the rare use of your actual name rather than an acronym disguising an insult.

Usually, you would do whatever he wanted anyway as long as it wasn't too out of your comfort zone. Any time that you'd decline he'd have a fit about it and ignore you for a while after.

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to ask me to do something ridiculous?" You ask with a sigh.

"Oh, it's nothing too crazy. But do you think you could get a permit and make a delivery for me outside campus, pretty girl? I know you have enough rapport with the Chancellor to do it by now," Romeo drawls, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

"What are you trying to get me to deliver? And where?" You ask, flicking your gaze to his suspiciously.

"It's not important, I will give you the address. All you have to do is drop it off in a mailbox. It's not too far from the station," Romeo explains coolly, his minty breath tickling your nose.

"Hmm..." You hum contemplatively, turning your head back to the laptop. "I dunno... sounds kinda sus. I don't want to lose my honor student privileges, you know?"

"...There is nothing sus about it! And you won't. Just say you want to make a delivery to a friend." The demanding impatience in Romeo's tone is already starting to rear its head as you continue to question him.

"I dunno. What's in it for me?" You persist nonchalantly.

"Continued employment and my approval, obviously! What more could you want?" Romeo argues.

You weren't stupid. He was probably fully intending on sending you off with illegal substances. It would be easy to do it and not get caught, but it's not like you were gung-ho about making runs like that. And it's not like Romeo could do it himself with Sinostra's suspension. What could you request in return that he would be deterred from ever asking you again?

"I might consider it if you do something for me," You reply as another impish grin threatens to peel back.

Romeo clicks his tongue impatiently. "Asking me for favors now? What could you possibly want?"

"Kiss me," You request, making a point to sound as deadpan as possible.

The room becomes uncannily still for several moments once the words fall from your mouth.

You smirk, taking your time before you look back at Romeo to assess the damage. The Sinostra vice-captain is boring a hole through you with his eyebrows furrowed. You watch his smooth lips part marginally, as if something is just on the tip of his tongue.

It's almost hilarious. The way that he just came onto you with the intention of coaxing you to do his bidding, but when the tables are turned he's at a loss for words. You let out a short laugh, deeming this to be your victory as you refocus your attention on the laptop in front of you yet again. "Looks like my hands are tied, Vice-Captain. Maybe you can blackmail Kaito into doing it."

Romeo clicks his tongue in annoyance. "Imbecile, did I say no?"

Well, you can't say you were expecting that.

You laugh awkwardly, looking at him like he just lost his mind. "What, you're going to agree just like that?"

Romeo nods. "If you wash your face and do a proper skin care routine beforehand. And make sure your mouth is entirely scrubbed clean, if I taste anything foul on your lips, so help me god...!"

"Woah, woah, woah...! I didn't say anything about the lips," You reply, your voice slightly panicked. "Also, you gotta kiss my face as is. It's part of the stipulation. And I haven't washed it in, like, five days. I probably got blackheads galore. You seriously wanna go through with that?"

You had washed your face and put on products previously recommended to you by Romeo this morning. The more affordable ones, anyway. Not that he needed to know that.

Romeo squints his eyes as he closes in on you, stopping just inches from your face. "You're lying. Why? I don't have time for these games."

How did he immediately call on your bluff?

When you struggle to formulate an excuse, Romeo leans forward, cupping his gloved hand on your chin. You don't have time to react before he presses his plush lips against your cheek. The vice-captain stays that way for a second too long, the kiss past the point of being chaste. When Romeo pulls back, he's quirking a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.

"I'd recognize that scent anywhere. Did you put on Tatcha cream this morning?"

You can feel heat gather at the apples of your cheeks as you gawk at him wordlessly.

"I suppose you're not entirely hopeless after all." Romeo smirks approvingly as he gives you the backhanded compliment.

"Shit," You mutter, sighing in defeat.

"Looks like you will be my delivery girl. Don't fuck it up, BB," Romeo says derisively, before getting to his feet and walking off to retrieve the parcel.

Days pass after you begrudgingly follow through with the delivery without anything particularly eventful happening. Currently, you're seated at a bench in the courtyard just outside of campus helping Kaito prepare for an upcoming test in a class you both had. Your phone has been vibrating in your pocket for a hot minute, but you're so determined with focusing on helping Kaito, you ignore it for the time being.

"Jesus effing Christ! I don't get this shit at all, I'm totally gonna bomb this," Kaito whines. The Frostheim student has his fingers wound in his hair as if he's ready to yank it out in clumps.

"If you hold that attitude the entire time, you just might. A lot of this test is going to be memorization. If anything, I can whip up some flash cards really quick for you," You offer, shooting him a sympathetic glance.

"Hah... y-you'd really do that? You're seriously an angel." Kaito's voice cracks and he dramatically begins to sprout tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Pffft, it's nothing. If anything, I still owe you for helping me out so much when I first got here." You pull out a stack of blank index cards from your messenger bag and peer over at the highlighted material in the notepad settled in Kaito's lap.

Picking up a pen, you begin scribbling the most important bits on the cards that you presume will be on the test. It takes you around ten minutes, but when you finish you hand the stack over to the Frostheim student.

"Just study it before bed for at least twenty minutes every night until the exam. That's what I always do when I don't retain enough," You remark with a reassuring smile. "Easy peasy."

"T-Thanks so much, (Y/N)." Kaito looks at you with a melting expression, his lower lip puckered into a pout. "I'll get a permit and take you out to my favorite ramen place if I pass this thing, for real."

"Oh? I'll hold you to that," You quip, smirking at him.

Kaito holds out his pinky, nodding fervently. "Pinky swear! It'll be super fun."

You latch your own finger with his. "I bet. I've been craving those marinated eggs lately. It's like you read my mind. Maybe we could bring Lucas, too?"

"Uh... m-maybe. Or it could be..." Kaito giggles nervously, scratching his blonde mop. "Like a d-d-date...?"

"A date...?" You tilt your head, eyeing your friend curiously.

Before Kaito can present his case, a black gloved hand swats his out of yours in the blink of an eye.

"A date?! Don't make me laugh, leech! If you don't pay EPB you will be lucky to be still breathing come the day of your exams!"

"GYAAAAH...!" Kaito stumbles back from his seat, landing butt first on the stone ground. "W-What the hell are y-you doing here...?! And how long were you listening?!"

Romeo places a hand on his lip, glowering at Kaito with disdain. "Long enough." The vice-captain briskly snaps his head in your direction. "And just how long did you think you would continue getting away with ignoring me, BB? While fraternizing with this fool who owes me money? You want to take permanent residence in my private office that badly?"

You blink at Romeo owlishly. "Huh? Ignoring you? Since when?" Then it dawns on you. Your phone was vibrating in your pocket like crazy earlier.

"Don't play dumb! I know your phone is on you!" Romeo yells, jabbing an accusing finger in your direction.

You snort at that. "How do you know that? Maybe I left it at my dorm."

"Are you so daft that you think I'd let my assistant frolic around OTG?"

You avert your gaze upwards, pondering what the acronym could possibly mean. "...Alright, you lost me. OTG?"

"Off. The. Grid...!" Romeo retorts, enunciating each word with biting emphasis.

You stare at his sour face blankly for a few seconds as you belatedly digest the implication. Scratching your cheek, you quirk an eyebrow at him. "Don't tell me you're tracking me, Boss?"

"Of course I am!" Romeo admits shamelessly. "And don't even think about finding the application and removing it! I made sure that your access is restricted from such tampering!"

You sigh, not particularly perturbed or surprised by the revelation. "You're a real weirdo, you know that? If this were a legitimate job with human resources I could totally report you if I wanted."

"S-Since when did you start working for this nut job?!" Kaito asks, now scrambling to his feet. "Jesus Christ, just work at the campus!"

Romeo glares daggers at the blonde. "Unless you'd like to spend the night being hung up by your toes, I suggest you make yourself scarce! And I expect a money order by 12pm sharp tomorrow, or I will be making an appearance at your dormitory."

"Urk...! F-Fine...!" Kaito hastily grabs his messenger bag from the bench. "I'll see you later (Y/N)! Text me...!" The blonde flicks a wary glance in Romeo's direction before scampering off.

"Now that the fool has left, you are coming with me, BB! I have a job for you. And turn your audio notifications on for my number, FFS!" Romeo orders.

You roll your eyes before getting to your feet. "Fine, fine, I hear ya."

After announcing that Romeo had your location tracked, you swore that you had begun to notice that he was making more frequent appearances where you didn't usually see him. When you went to eat at the weird diner Ren works at with Lucas, Romeo showed up in the middle of your meal, requesting you return to Sinostra as soon as possible. A day later you saw him on the main campus in the second year wing of the building to fetch you after class. Another day, you went to help Alan with some paperwork and the Sinostra vice-captain was there, too. Romeo had claimed that he was just there to speak with Leo, but then insisted that you come with him once you had finished up, anyway.

It's not like you had a set schedule to work. Sometimes you wouldn't help him for a day or two in the event that Darkwick needed something that took priority. Who knows? Maybe it really was all a coincidence.

You sat in the VIP room again, a few of Romeo's goons were talking amongst themselves across the room, while you were waiting for whatever task the vice-captain had planned for you that evening. Romeo had texted you earlier in the day, and he had made it seem as if it were something urgent.

Eventually, the double doors burst open and Romeo made a beeline for you.

You lift your eyes to meet the Sinostra vice-captain's as he approaches, stopping to a halt right in front of you. “Heya, Boss,” You smirk up at him. “What's good?”

“(Y/N),” Romeo starts, his voice as sweet as molasses. The vice-captain is looking down at you with a jovial smile. ”Just In time~”

“Ugh…” Your expression falters to a tired one in an instant. Standing up, you make an attempt to slide out from in front of him. “Just realized, Cornelius asked me to do some stuff at Frostheim, so if you'll excuse me–”

Romeo holds your waist firmly in place, narrowing his eyes sharply at you. “The Chancellor sent you no such notification. I should know.”

“C'mon now you're hacking into my phone to read my messages?” You ask in disbelief, irritation rising in your voice. “I'm starting to think you're in love with me.”

“Idiot! Now you're just blowing smoke up your ass! I have my reasons,” Romeo counters vaguely. The vice-captain is close enough that you can smell every fragrant product he had on today.

You click your tongue, sitting back down with your arms folded over your chest. Debating with Romeo was like talking to a brick wall, so you weren't about to waste your breath. “Fine, what do you need?”

Romeo turns his head to the group of his lackeys behind him. “Fools! You better have that box with you.”

“Sorry, right here, Boss!” One of the students hurried over to Romeo's side, handing said box over to him.

Romeo takes it, then tosses it in your lap. It's not that heavy and it has a white lid. “Here! This will be my gift to you, should you do what I ask.”

You eye him skeptically, to which he nods. Despite the usage of the word gift, knowing him, there was a pretty big catch. Hesitantly, you reach out and lift the lid in front of you.

The scarlet fabric immediately catches your eye. Silk?

You lift the item out of its box, extending the piece of clothing enough to where you can really judge what you're looking at. It looks to be some type of halter neck evening gown. Formal, yet not too formal. The way the fabric feels against your fingertips tells you that this is worth several months' pay at least. Just beneath the dress is a set of accenting jewelry at the bottom of the box. You don't know enough about that kind of thing to even begin to guess it's worth.

“...What the hell is this?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“A dress, obviously. Do you have eyes?” Romeo snaps.

“Okay, but why?”

Romeo exhales, steeling himself like he's about to make a sales pitch. “...Tonight I have a guest. A former colleague of mine, for lack of a better word. I have a list of tables I need you to lead him to and goad him into playing. The fool likes to bid high.”

“And I gotta wear this to do it?” You prod, creasing your eyebrows.

“That GFNS has a type and if I work my magic, you will fit that,” Romeo explains, placing a hand on his hip.

“You can't seriously expect me to flirt with some rando. And what, are you gonna cheat him out of money? I thought you were against that!” You argue.

Romeo clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You don't need to seduce him, just act as you normally do. Pretend you recognize him. The idiot has a meager amount of fame in the outside world, so it won't be odd. As for cheating him– the piece of shit deserves it. He did the same to me and still believes I am unaware. It's a wonder I haven't killed him already.”

You pause, taking a moment to process everything. “How the hell am I supposed to convince him to follow me around?”

“Start by offering him a drink, and tell him you're my cousin. I will provide you with a list of what to do from there. The majority of men are simple meatheads,” Romeo states matter-of-factly. “Throw a pretty woman in front of them and they will fold like a deck of cards.”

You roll your eyes. “So now I'm pretty? What happened to ‘basic bitch’?”

“...You're not repulsive,” Romeo admits, averting his gaze.

“Such a charmer,” You say sarcastically.

“So, will you do it?”

It didn't sound like the most fun task in the world, but if you weren't pressured into behaving a certain way, it really wouldn't be so bad. Plus, you kind of want to have Romeo doll you up. The vice-captain has referenced it enough in passing, but had yet to follow through.

“I really don't have to hit on him?” You reiterate.

“Be friendly, that's it,” Romeo insists.

“Do I get another kiss for this?” You joke, wiggling your eyebrows.

Romeo's flicks his gaze over you fully, as if he's genuinely considering your question. “...Ask me again when you clean up.”

You nearly choke on air at his nonchalant reply.

“Joke! That was a joke!” You insist with a nervous laugh, waving your hands wildly in protest. “My next kiss, face or otherwise, will be reserved for my future partner!”

Romeo's lips pull slightly downward and his expression wavers like he has more commentary to throw back at you. Instead, the vice-captain pushes out an exasperated sigh as he turns on his heel and waves you off dismissively. “Go and put that on. Don't keep me waiting.”

“Okie dokie. You got it, Boss.”

When Romeo handed you a mirror after he applied makeup on you and styled your hair, you almost didn't recognize yourself. It's not as if you hadn't dressed up before, but it never came out quite this well. As it turns out, the vice-captain wasn't all talk with his stylistic choices.

You were thoroughly impressed. Romeo had also brought shoes to you before he had gotten started on your makeup, that matched the dress and accessories. Everything fit perfectly, too. Which, you did wonder how that was possible without Romeo somehow invading your privacy again. You didn't bother touching on that subject.

“Woah, you really know your stuff,” You compliment Romeo, as you admire the rouge lip color he had applied to your face. It complimented the dress perfectly.

“I am offended that you ever doubted me,” Romeo retorts. He's sitting on a stool in front of you and the couch in the VIP lounge. “I have a feeling this will go according to plan. Just look over your notes beforehand, got it?”

You nod, lowering the mirror onto the table in front of you. “By the way, is this guy really going to make up what it cost to get me this stuff? This looks crazy expensive.”

“Of course,” Romeo insists, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. “You think I intend to support a charity case? As long as you do what I say, this will be a miniscule dent in the return.”

“That's good at least. I almost started to feel bad.” You stand up, with the intention of getting the ball rolling.

“Hold on,” Romeo stands with you, pulling a golden vial out of the pouch of makeup that rests on the table. The vice-captain opens it, a strong, but inviting fragrance permeates your immediate surroundings. Leaning in close, Romeo dabs some of the liquid from the wand that's attached to the lid onto your neck.

“Oh, that smells nice…” You murmur, pretending like the close proximity of your gorgeous tyrant of a boss isn't making your heart beat rapidly.

“As it should. It's of high quality.” Romeo brings a pale hand to your neck, spreading the oil-like perfume across the expanse of your neck gently with his fingertips.

The Sinostra vice-captain's expression is completely unreadable at the moment. And for reasons unbeknownst to you– you struggle to take your eyes off of him. Maybe it's because he looks more peaceful than usual? If you had to guess, this kind of thing might be fun for him.

“Thank you,” You say impulsively, beaming at him.

Romeo removes his fingers from your neck, flitting his gaze to meet yours. His eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What are you thanking me for?”

“I dunno, this is kind of fun. I think it's better than you making me go on a drug deal,” You tease.

“I never admitted to making you do anything of the sort,” Romeo counters.

“Never admitted,” You emphasize with a coy smirk. “Even if you're doing this for your own agenda, I still appreciate your creative efforts. So, thanks.”

Romeo stares at you with an indiscernible expression for a few beats, his face alarmingly close to yours. It feels strange. Since when was he so comfortable being this close without reason? Especially when he's not visibly pissed about something.

“...Thank me by doing your job correctly,” He finally says.

Romeo increases the distance between the two of you, placing the now closed vial of perfume back where he got it. “Now scram. I have things to do.”

It feels like you can finally breathe. What is this strange feeling?

“Yeah, sure thing…”

The guest Romeo had told you to tag along with was turning out to be a seemingly decent guy. He had dark hair and was handsome enough, but compared to the ghouls at Darkwick, he didn't particularly stand out. Based on the information Romeo wrote down for you, he is well known on social media for creating and promoting a pretty successful clothing line. His actual name was lost on you, but Romeo just told you to refer to him as Zomo. You weren't sure if it was a public nickname for him, or one given to him by the vice-captain himself.

Everything Romeo had told you to do had seemingly worked. The influencer initially had been confused by you approaching him, until you labeled yourself as Romeo's close cousin. From there it was relatively easy to converse with him. You showed him around and you didn't have to try very hard to get him to participate at the table games. The first table the list told you to take him to was a game of roulette. And you couldn't help but notice a familiar red-headed captain seated at the gaming table.

You knew basic casino etiquette, courtesy of Romeo. Since you didn't intend on playing, you observed from behind Zomo's chair.

“Say… don't I know ya from somewhere, Kitty?”

You glance over at Taiga. He's leaning on the table in a languid posture, his head resting on his fist. The Sinostra Captain is smirking at you impishly.

“Yeah. Don't you remember? It's me, John Titor,” You joke, though you intentionally keep your expression serious for the bit.

“...That what it was?” The smile never leaves Taiga's face as he stares at you, likely trying to figure out if it's actually the truth. After a long pause, he starts laughing. “...Gyahaha! Ya don't seem like a John. Feel like ya gotta have a beard for that one!”

Romeo's guest looks between the two of you skeptically. You wonder if he knows Taiga already. If not, you could only imagine the confusion, especially considering you introduced yourself with your real name.

“I'll just call ya Johnny for now, how ‘bout it?” Taiga holds a fist out to you, like he intends to hand you something. Curious, you reach your palm out to him.

Without warning, Taiga slaps several orange chips directly into your hand. A familiar tingling sensation lingers on your palm at the contact. You blink, meeting Taiga's gaze dubiously.

Was it part of Romeo's plan for Taiga to use his stigma, then? Guess it only makes sense if they're trying to screw this guy.

Taiga grins at you wolfishly for a moment before pulling back and leaning onto the table again. “Get me a drink will ya? Think I'm in the mood for an Old Fashioned.”

“...Sure,” You say. Looking down at the Zomo guy, you speak up again. “Want anything?”

“Same thing, thanks,” He replies.

Hours went by of spectating as Romeo's guest fails each and every one of the games he participates in. A constant throughout the evening was Taiga making an appearance at every table that you influenced Zomo to play at. If you had any doubt that Romeo and the Sinostra Captain had collaborated in the scheme together, that was long gone.

Throughout it all, Zomo continued requesting drinks, and you retrieved them every time he asked. He was either so trashed that he didn't realize how much money he lost, or he just didn't care. By the time you reached the finale of the last game on your list, Zomo was completely out of chips.

“Damn… lost again, eh? That's embarrassing.” Romeo's guest lethargically scratches his head at the Baccarat table. The rest of the players had already made themselves scarce, leaving the two of you alone for the moment. Aside from the dealer who was busying himself in idle chatter with another casino employee.

“Oof, damn!” You say, doing your best to feign shock for the umpteenth time. “That sucks, buddy. Maybe next time?”

“Buddy…?” Zomo repeats, his brow creased. You hear him curse under his breath. And only seconds after that, you feel a hand grip your wrist and yank you forward.

“Woah…!” You trip over your feet and nearly butt heads with the man seated at the table. Zomo stretches a hand out, stilling your shoulder in time with his free hand.

“Here I thought you were gonna cozy up with me for the night. Turns out you're just a fuckin’ tease, eh?”

Oops, looks like you made the wrong dialogue choice. Creeper alert!

You attempt to yank your hand back, but the man's grip is firm. Zomo's face is just inches from yours, and his breath reeks of brown liquor. Taking a deep breath, you narrow your eyes at him. “Let me go, fuck face.”

“Don't think I'm gonna do that,” He says, his voice slurring over his words.

“Dude, seriously!” You growl, moving your other hand forward to attempt to peel the man's fingers off.

The sound of a gun bolt sliding back and locking into place sounds from your right.

You glance up. The Sinostra vice-captain is training a rifle less than a foot from the man's head. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his finger linger dangerously close to the trigger. “W-Wait Romeo, don't–”

“Get the fuck out,” Romeo seethes, his words come out far more venomous than you ever thought possible. “Unless you'd like me to contact Darkwick's medical facility to relay details for your death certificate.”

“W-Woah, chill man…! I w-wasn't gonna do anything,” Zomo sputters out as he releases your wrist to hold his hands up in surrender.

“Not only are you a thieving weasel, you're lying through your teeth,” Romeo balances the butt of the rifle against his shoulder, using his free hand to wave over a member of security. “Escort this BFL out.”

The security member quickly makes his way over to grab Zomo's shoulder and carries out Romeo's orders. The vice-captain's old acquaintance doesn't make a fuss as he's led towards the door. If he did, you may actually think he's insane. You wouldn't put it past Romeo to actually pull the trigger. The Sinostra vice-captain had shot at Ritsu before, after all.

Romeo lowers his gun once Zomo's out of sight, and turns his head to look at you, his gaze cold. “VIP room, now.”

“Uh, sure.”

You follow Romeo back to the room you can never seem to stay out of nowadays. The vice-captain says nothing the entire walk there. It was a little unsettling not hearing him rant angrily about one thing or another. You weren't sure what to expect when you watched Romeo close the massive double doors behind the two of you. A distinct clicking noise makes you double take in his direction.

Did he just lock the door?

A brief surveillance of the room tells you that you're the only two people inside.

“Sit,” Romeo demands, waving in the general direction of the sofa. The vice-captain doesn't wait for you to reply before he stalks off towards the back of the room with his rifle, presumably to stow it away.

You make your way over to the sofa, plopping down. Deciding it's been weirdly awkward for long enough, you speak up. “You're being quiet. Are you mad?”

You hear something click shut from behind you, and a few moments later Romeo walks back into view. The vice-captain makes his way over to you, taking a seat relatively close to you. He looks at you with a hard gaze.

“Would it kill you to take my word and just follow the script I gave you, moron?” Romeo finally reprimands. Though, he sounds almost nice compared to how he usually berates.

“How the hell was I supposed to know that ‘buddy’ would set that weirdo off?” You argue. “You really know some odd people.”

“...You should be grateful I was using the EITS to watch over you,” Romeo spats, his arms folded over his chest.

“It's okay, I would have karate chopped him,” You insist, holding your arms out in a playful representation of what you imagine a proper karate pose would look like.

“Don't make me laugh,” Romeo starts, though the agitation in his tone tells you he's not actually in a laughing kind of mood. “You couldn't even peel that pig's fingers off of you!”

You pivot your body to face him, leaning your cheek on the back of the couch. “You worried about little old me?”

“Worried…?” Romeo repeats, his intense gaze burning a hole through you. “The only one who should be worried is that weasel. So long as you are in my LOS, no one will touch you.”

You feel your cheeks burn at Romeo's words. “Uhm… line of sight?”

“Obviously.”

“Geez. Can’t tell if you sound delusional, or romantic,” You mutter, averting your gaze to a random spot on the couch.

Romeo scoffs. “I said it exactly as I meant it. Attributing further sentiment is a waste of time.”

You laugh a bit, in spite of yourself. “Yeah, don't I know it. I'm getting ahead of myself, sorry Boss.”

“You should be. Now make up for it by canceling your extracurricular plans this week to work for me.” Romeo's lips peel into a devilish grin as he makes the absurd request.

“That hardly seems like a fair shake,” You say with a snort. “What are you gonna do when I'm not around one day?”

Romeo's expression slips into a puzzled one. “What do you mean?”

“Well, one day I'm gonna return home if I break my curse. I doubt Darwick intends on giving me permanent residence here. I'll have to help you find someone to replace me when that happens,” You explain, flashing him a bittersweet smile. “You forget?”

Romeo frowns, eyeing you dubiously. “I don't plan on forking my assistant over so easily.”

“I didn't realize that you had any real say in it,” You tease. “Are you going to convince Hyde that I will be a valuable asset for the foreseeable future?”

“If that's what it comes to. That DOF owes me anyhow, always nagging at the most inconvenient of times!” Romeo pauses, holding your gaze. “...Don't tell me you actually have been looking forward to going back to your mundane life?”

Did you?

Maybe in some ways. Though, Darkwick and the people in it have become your second home. Initially it wasn't a choice, but for the moment you wouldn't trade it away. Not yet.

“...There are things I miss. People,” You admit, doing your best not to sound like a sad sack.

“Like who?” Romeo persists, the frustrated look on his face not budging.

“Family and friends,” You reply vaguely. “I miss the normalcy sometimes. The routine, being able to put time into things that aren't important, and going out when I want with whoever.”

Romeo clicks his tongue irritably. “...What a stupid sentiment. You can basically have all that here. Why not just stay here and visit there?”

You snicker at his persistence. This might be the most interest that the Sinostra vice-captain ever showed in how you feel. Though, the bar is still low considering he's using that information to try and manipulate your actions.

“Why not just visit me if I can't stay here?” You counter.

“I have far more important things to do.”

You sigh, feigning a wistful expression. “Well, that's alright. I guess I'll just invite Kaito over.”

“What…?” Romeo sits forward, his fuchsia eyes glaring daggers at you. “You intend to let that blubbering fool into your home alone?!”

“Sure, why not?” You ask, your lips curling into a coy smirk.

“That leech still owes me money! If he's around you with that much freedom the hormonal fool will spend my cash impulsively,” Romeo explains.

“Oh, right…” You mumble, wearing a pensive expression. “...Then I guess Alan could visit.”

“That behemoth will cause a mess bumbling around in your dinky home,” Romeo argues.

“Hm… Towa, surely.”

“Have you lost your mind? Do you have flood insurance?!”

“Okay, Boss. Tell me– who is suitable for me to invite into my home?” You ask, stifling a laugh.

“No one,” Romeo answers with conviction. “So stop considering it, BB.”

You sigh. “You know this ongoing territorial Boss bit is totally gonna scare away any potential love interests for me in the future.”

“Good,” Romeo remarks impassively, narrowing his eyes at you. “Let there be no other distractions.”

“That's totally not fair. Unless you're planning on doing the charity work of being my boyfriend, I think I'll pass,” You retort, puffing your cheeks. “As a hopeless romantic, there's some things I won't sacrifice.”

“I will do it,” Romeo declares pointedly.

Your eyes widen and you lift your head from the back cushion of the couch, gawking in disbelief. “...What?”

The vice-captain's expression is serious. Romeo's words are not to be taken lightly.

“I said I'll do it, idiot,” Romeo insists. “But I will write up a list of guidelines you must follow consistently in regards to hygiene and skin care routines. And for outings together you will not give me any push back when I select your outfits, or how I choose to style your hair. And you must be prompt when I invite you out, no excuses.”

You gape at him in shock. “...You're serious?”

“Does it seem like I'm joking, nitwit?” Romeo snaps.

“Okay… what about, uh…” Your cheeks turn bright red, you can just feel it. “Intimacy? Physical touch? Is that really something you'd be open to…?”

“So long as you're not filthy, I will accomodate,” Romeo answers, like it's the simplest question in the world.

“Er… But is that something you want or just something you'd be willing to do just to keep me here?” You prod, brows tented.

Romeo gives you a prickly stare. “Obviously, my intention is to keep you here.”

Ouch.

There's a couple ways you could interpret that, if you think hard enough about it. But since it wasn't the answer you were looking for, it was difficult to not take personal. You weren't particularly interested in trading intimacy with someone who just wanted you around for business purposes. Even if it seemed like it could be fun, it would inevitably be a disaster in the long run. But it was Romeo, what did you expect?

Shifting your gaze off to the side, you speak in a near whisper “...I'm sorry, that's not really something I'm interested in. I'm gonna have to pass on this one. I like you and all, but I think this is seriously gonna blow if I get attached to you romantically, ya know?”

Romeo stares at you pensively. Even as you shoot up from your seat seconds later.

“I'm gonna head home now!” You announce, somehow managing to keep your voice steady. “You can call me whenever you need me in the morning though, since there's no classes tomorrow.”

Just as you wave Romeo off and turn heel, an arm snakes around your waist, pulling you backwards.

“W-Woah…!”

In the blink of an eye, you're sitting back on the couch, with your thighs overlapping Romeo's. The Sinostra vice-captain is gripping one of your wrists and his left arm is looped around your backside.

You stare up at him in surprise, and he's glaring daggers back at you. His pretty lips pressed into a thin line.

“I cannot believe you have the audacity to reject me,” Romeo says, his jaw clenched as if he's struggling to maintain his composure.

“Hey, reject?” You echo, your eyes wide like saucers. “T-That's not my intention.”

The vice-captain's eye twitches in vexation. “Not your intention? How else could I possibly interpret that?! Do you have any idea how lucky you should feel that the thought even crossed my mind, THD?”

“I do feel lucky,” You argue, your brow creasing. “I-I just don't think the way we feel about each other is the same.”

“If that's the case or not, what difference does it make? There is no one better suited for you, I can assure you that,” Romeo asserts.

Heat rises to your cheeks at the bold statement. You open your mouth, but find yourself grappling with your brain and heart to the point where nothing slips out.

“Is there someone else? Is that what this is about? One of the fools you rattled off earlier? Do tell me their name,” Romeo rants. Despite the vice-captain's voice not being as elevated as it usually is, his expression isn't any less venomous. “If you try to weasel your way out of it, I will find out eventually.”

“No…!” You nearly shout in disbelief. “C'mon, you're being completely unreasonable! How would there be? I'm with you during most of my free time!”

Romeo lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “On four separate occasions this week, you were spending time with other ghouls. And I've seen the way those Frostheim fools look at you!”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, Romeo it's not like that…!”

“Don't! Don't call me that…!” The vice-captain tears his gaze from yours, his eyes settling somewhere on your lap. “...Take some responsibility, BB! You're the one that started this shit with that idiotic kiss nonsense!”

Huh…?

“That's what this is about…?” You ask, your jaw slack as you stare at Romeo's conflicted expression.

As far as you could tell, the Sinostra vice-captain had been completely flippant about the interaction. Was that really the catalyst for his possessive behavior? Your attempt to mess with him?

“It infuriates me,” Romeo starts, his posture tense. “You had remnants of sweat on your face, and you looked as if you just rolled out of bed, putting no thought into your appearance whatsoever. Other than that moisturizer, there was no fragrance lingering on you.”

You give Romeo a tired look, wondering where he could possibly be going with this.

“...It infuriates me that I didn't hate it,” Romeo admits, his grip on your wrist tightening marginally as the confession leaves his mouth.

Oh…

“...You mean you like the way my natural skin smells?” You ask, eyeing the vice-captain curiously.

“Must I repeat myself in another language, fool?” Romeo snaps, his steely eyes darting up at you.

It wasn't that unusual to like the smell of someone's natural oils. But you suppose for someone as finicky about scents and hygiene as Romeo could be, it was probably pretty important to him.

A giggle slips past your lips involuntarily.

“And what about this is so funny…?!” Romeo snaps.

You smile at him, finding the beautiful ghoul in front of you particularly endearing right now. “That's just the best compliment I think I may ever receive from you. And it's super common. Science might say that it means you're attracted to my pheromones. You're so cute.”

“Cute?” Romeo repeats, looking at you like you've lost your mind. “I have been reduced to falling prey to primitive behavior that does nothing to serve me! There's nothing ‘cute’ about this, FFS!”

So, Romeo likes your smell so much that it's been making him act like a possessive basket case all week? That explanation didn't entirely track.

“Do you like me, Boss?” You ask, sporting a lopsided smile.

“Like? Who fucking knows,” Romeo grumbles, leaning back into the couch as his grip falls from your wrist.

“Well…” You look down at your legs that were still on top of his. “I gotta say, I don't think I would have ever thought you'd let me be on you like this. You want me to move?”

Romeo doesn't give you a verbal reply, but the arm around your waist stiffens.

“No, then?” You prod.

“You're not leaving. Not like that. Not now,” Romeo decides. The vice-captain looks at you like he's daring you to go against his orders.

“I won't go if you don't want me to,” You reassure.

Romeo must believe you because his arm relaxes slightly.

“...Hey,” You start. “If you're not sure how you feel, can I try something? Maybe it will help you determine your feelings. And then we can discuss the whole dating thing again.”

“...Try what?” Romeo asks, raising an eyebrow.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for a potential adverse reaction. “Okay, here me out. And feel free to throw me off for my brazen stupidity if you're against it…”

“Spit it out, idiot.”

“Okay, okay. Can I kiss you…?” You blurt out, wincing preemptively.

Romeo stares at you with an unreadable gaze, and your stomach flips with anticipation.

“...Fine.”

“Oh, for real?”

“Do it before I change my mind, BB,” Romeo demands.

“Oh, yes. Of course. So, uh… like before?” You meant the cheek kiss. Hopefully the vice-captain would catch on to save you the embarrassment of explaining.

Romeo clicks his tongue. “Do I have to hold your hand through everything? Just do it.”

Okay, cheek kiss to be safe. That shouldn't be too intimidating. You've kissed your friends and family members cheeks, nothing but a cinch!

You sit up and inch your face closer towards Romeo's. It doesn't help your nerves that he's staring at you expectantly. Has this guy ever been on the receiving end of a kiss before? Couldn't he at least close his staggeringly pretty eyes so your heart would stop pounding against your chest like a jackhammer?

Knowing how bothered Romeo would be if you chickened out now helps you regain your composure. You shut your eyes and close the distance, pressing your lips against his devastatingly plush cheek. After an appropriate length of time, you pull back and assess the damage.

Romeo shoots you an unimpressed look. “What? That's it?”

You twiddle your thumbs nervously, an awkward laugh spilling from your mouth. “Uh… what, you want me to do it again?”

“Yes! Would you like me to write it in crayon?” Romeo snaps, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Okay, okay!” You impulsively reach for Romeo's gloved hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

The vice-captain shows no sign of protest at the gesture, so you proceed with the second kiss, this time landing your lips closer to his temple.

By the time you pull back, Romeo looks nothing short of impatient. “Are you so caught up in the role you played earlier that you forgot we aren't actually related? Is this supposed to entice me?”

You puff your cheeks, your face burning from his criticism. “You're such a turd! You really want me to kiss you for real?”

That's the only conclusion you could draw from the vice-captain's words. If your lips were even slightly chapped, or breath even a little off there would surely be hell to pay. You don't recall eating anything sinister.

You don't have time to make any further advances, nor does he grant you the courtesy of a verbal reply. The arm around your waist effortlessly draws you closer, to where you're sitting fully on the vice-captain's lap. Romeo pulls his hand from your grip, drawing it towards your shoulder.

You nearly gasp when you feel the wandering hand ghost over the expanse of your collar bone. “What are you–”

“Quiet,” Romeo interjects softly. His fuchsia eyes rake over you in admiration as his fingertips travel upwards towards your neck. You feel his thumb gently brush against the length of your throat, eventually tickling your jawline.

“Exactly as I pictured it,” Romeo murmurs vaguely. “...Don't wear this around anyone else.”

“...W-Well, to be fair I was already seen in this by countless people,” You argue, struggling to hold his gaze. If someone would have told you just hours before that the Sinostra vice-captain would be leering so suggestively at you right now, you'd surely laugh in their face.

Just what did you do to catch the attention of the most self-assured and vain man you'd ever met in your life?

“A severe lapse in judgment on my part. Don't anticipate it happening again,” Romeo retorts bitterly.

Without warning, the Sinostra vice-captain cups his hand against your neck and pulls you forward. Your eyes flutter shut unconsciously and the warmth of his lips reach yours.

In spite of the intense nervousness you felt just moments prior, the kiss has you melting on impact. Maybe it's the way his touch is so characteristically deliberate, yet delicate at the same time. You knew his lips were soft, it's obvious at just a glance. But it was clear to you now that having them pressed against your own is far more satisfying than you could have ever imagined.

You wrap your arms around Romeo's neck in your mindless search for a closer touch. A passing insecure thought that you're doing too much materializes, but is quickly quelled when you feel his lips part and reconnect with yours again. You feel a hand grip the side of your hip, his digits going in for a tight squeeze. Involuntarily, you whimper against Romeo's mouth.

The Sinostra vice-captain pulls back from the kiss, his face beautifully flushed. His right thumb strokes the contour of your jaw languidly as he surveys you with half-lidded eyes. “I've made up my mind.”

You feel completely malleable under his deceptively soft gaze. Drawing your arms back ever so slightly, you press him further. “...And?”

Romeo regards you voraciously, his lips curling into a smirk. “You're mine, (Y/N). It would be in your best interest to remember that.”

#tokyo debunker #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #romeo lucci/reader #fluff #romeo lucci #taiga hoshibami

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joelsmochi · 5 months

Text

honeypie - joel miller

summary: part 2 to honey (can be read as a standalone, doesn’t have much to do with the original plot!) warnings: not proofread, 18+, slight angst?, age gap (everyone is legal!!!!!), bickering/arguing, double date trope womp womp, degradation, dubcon, creampie, joel is a smidge misogynistic insecure and possessive wc: 2.6k a/n: this is mainly just some self indulgent yet rushed storytelling (so sorry, i wrote it in an hour because i was bored at work lol)! i wanna write a part 3 and actually include the beekeeping a little more but i have nooo idea how i’m gonna do it but we WILL get there one day babes!!! until then, enjoy this fluffy angsty sex 😽!!!💓

series masterlist | main masterlist

“If you guys are gonna bang when I’m in the house the least you could do is be quiet!” You heard Sarah shout from the other side of Joel’s bedroom door after banging on it.

Joel grimaced, his body tensing beneath you but you were almost oblivious to the complaints of your best friend. Almost.

You didn’t let up on your movements or noises whatsoever and as much as Joel loved those sweet little moans spewing from you as you humped against him, he loved his privacy much more especially when it came to his daughter.

You shook your head profusely when he attempted to get you to stop, insisting on how you were almost there.

“Soclosesoclosesoclose—just w-wait, I’m cu—fuck. Ahh, fuck, I’m cumming. Oh yes! Yesyesyesyesyes! Ohh—oh, my God—“

Joel covered your mouth with a clammy hand, feeling torn from his mixed feelings of lust and embarrassment.

Going downstairs didn’t help him feel any better either, especially when Sarah began berating you both, not that he blamed her for it.

“Call it payback for all the times I let you and your boyfriend have sex in my bed,” you retorted.

“In your bed?!” Joel mumbled to himself.

“Yeah yeah, could have at least waited until I was gone,” Sarah muttered.

“Sorry, Sar,” you hummed, “your dad is just really hot.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, man.”

“I didn’t even know you were home,” Joel complained. “You’ve been with Jared or whatever his name is all week.”

Sarah’s squinted her eyes, annoyed by the lack of care from her father. “Alex. His name is Alex dad—see, I hate this!”

“Oh, by the way, Sarah,” you said, pattering behind the kitchen counter, “wouldn’t use the open jar of honey if I were you.”

“UGH! EW! Fucking ew!”

♡

“Other than the obvious,” Sarah mumbled, “how’s my dad taking care of you?”

You wore a bright smile and looked away from your reflection momentarily. Joel was… Joel. Rough around the edges but he was a genuine person, confident in the external reality but a little insecure. Not unbearably insecure though, just enough to make you know he was trying his best.

He wasn’t the most romantic but you figured it was just from him being out of the game for so long and you knew you could train him to be more romantic if it was needed.

He didn’t push you aside or make attempts to subtly suggest you needed to leave after sex either; he’d pout real big and give you those gorgeous puppy dog eyes until you held him. He loved making you laugh.

But it definitely still felt like just sex rather than a relationship. You weren’t particularly complaining, but you weren’t bragging about it either.

“Good,” you answered.

Sarah could tell from your tone how honest it was. Good meant great, happy, damn near perfect.

“Good. I’m glad,” she said. “I was worried he’d be like one of those incels that get real creepy and pervy after thirty-five.”

“No, no, he’s great,” you reiterated. “He’s very funny. Smart. He asks me to tan in my bikini while he’s working on the hive or the yard.”

You watched from the corner of your makeup coated eye how tightly she grimaced.

“Images. In head. Don’t want them there,” she dramatized.

“I have to hear every last detail about you and Al up to where he’s shoving your cervix into your stomach. You can deal with a little sexiness from us,” you said.

“It’s just so weird,” she whined.

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You asked.

You had slowly began to worry about how this would affect your best friend over time, you knew it was a weird situation. You had no issue cutting Joel off if it meant Sarah got to be happy. There were other men in the world, there weren’t other Sarah’s.

“No, God! No. It’s just not as simple as I was expecting. You know?” She explained kindly.

“Totally! I’d be weirded out if you were hooking up with my dad while I was across the hall. I’m not blaming you there, or anywhere for that matter. Just know you come first.”

“Well, yeah, who else is going to wax your back hair and not judge you for it?” She teased.

You rolled your eyes at her.

“Lots of men with weird fetishes.”

♡

“Can’t believe I agreed to this,” Joel huffed.

He adjusted the waistband of his jeans making his shoulder briefly flare. You let your mind wander while Joel complained about the double date you had arranged with Sarah and Alex. You were currently waiting in the parking lot for them to arrive.

“It’ll be fun. You’ll get to meet Alex and see he is a respectable man and you and I get to pretend we’re a couple for a few hours.”

“Pretend?” Joel questioned. “W-what do you mean pretend? Are we not together?”

“Uh, no?” You said.

Joel didn’t appreciate your amused reaction and questioned you a little more.

“You never asked me to be your girlfriend— you haven’t even taken me on a date,” you explained. “Did you really think that conversation wasn’t necessary?”

“So if we’re not together then what is this?”

You sucked your teeth before simply saying, “Sex.”

Once the four of you were inside Sarah and her boyfriend felt the tension between the two of you.

You watched Joel punch in all of your names into the keypad before pressing ‘start game’.

“So Alex, what do you do for work?” Joel asked.

“Oh, well right now I’m working at a café downtown, but I’m majoring in political science to become a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?” Joel sounded impressed.

“Lawyers are great at communicating,” you antagonized. “They know what questions are… Important to ask.”

Joel rolled his eyes and motioned between you and the bowling balls. “Just go. Good God.”

“Dad, what did you do?” Sarah asked.

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” He defended.

“Girl, what did he do?” She asked you.

Shrugging, you said, “I don’t know. Since Joel thinks he’s so great at communicating, maybe he should answer. I’m gonna go bowl.”

“Hope you gutter!” Joel shouted after you walked away. “She told me I needed to ask her to be my girlfriend.”

“You thought she was your girlfriend?!” Sarah said with wide eyes.

“Well… Yeah? Do I really need to verbally ask her that?”

“That’s why I got a strike, bitch,” you said while slapping the back of Joel’s head.

Sarah and Alex awkwardly stood up so that he could pretend to teach Sarah how to bowl properly. But the bickering between you and Joel didn’t end there.

“I thought it was obvious,” Joel told you. “I have you over all the time. We fuck. We laugh. Did I really need to ask?”

“So what would have happened if I pissed you off and you were to say ‘it’s not like you’re my girlfriend’?”

“I do not sound like that!” Joel scoffed. “And I would never do that to you, you know that. I just kinda figured you were mine, you know?”

You squinted at his unearned possession over you, feigning offense and scoffing obnoxiously.

“Yours? I’m not your property, Joel. You don’t get to claim me.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you goin’ to do about it? Fuck some other loser?”

You grinned, and immediately he regretted his words.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do,” you whispered.

Alex and Sarah sat back down and you asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink before walking away to go to the bar.

“Hi, what can I get for ya?” The boy at the counter asked.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen, why?”

“You see the older man on lane twelve?”

He looked and then nodded.

“Well, I wanna make jealous so if you could just smile and pretend to flirt with me I’ll give you ten bucks,” you explained with a sly smirk.

“Fifteen,” he negotiated.

“Ugh, fine. Can I get two lemonades, a beer, and a water please?”

“That’s not coming out of my tip, is it?” He questioned whilst punching the order into his screen.

“It will if you don’t start looking at my boobs,” you said through your faux smile.

You leaned onto the counter and gave the employee a clear view of your cleavage, which he seemed to appreciate very much.

But Joel wasn’t only focused on the teenage boy behind the counter, he noticed the numerous men gawking at your short shorts that showed off too much of your ass with you bent over the counter the way you were.

“Dad,” Sarah’s voice brought him back to reality. “Your turn.”

By the time Joel managed to spare you had returned with everyone’s drinks and Joel didn’t give you the satisfying reaction of jealousy like you’d hoped.

Wondering if you went too far, you drank a bit of Joel’s beer to imprint a lip gloss stain for Joel to taste in between sips. Something you noticed he loved to do over the past few weeks whenever he made you coffee or tea. You never finished your drinks and Joel always lined his mouth up with your lip print to taste you every chance he got.

And as you gave him the cheap plastic cup that held his beer, you watched as he habitually sipped right where your lips had been. Occasionally licking the rim of the cup before taking his next swig.

A couple of games later, you and Sarah managed to team up against the boys and kick their asses each and every frame. They sulked while you two gloated from the ending of the final game all the way back to the cars.

“Okay, okay. We get it, girls rule, boys lose,” Alex said.

“It’s boys drool,” Sarah corrected before turning to hug her father who placed a kiss on her forehead. “Night, dad. I’m gonna stay at Alex’s.”

“Okay, babygirl. Call me tomorrow.”

“Oh, and word of advice,” Sarah whispered after you got into Joel’s car. “Girls like what boys consider pointless communication. Take her out a few times, make her feel special, and ask her to be your girlfriend. She really likes you, she’s just making you earn it.”

Joel softly smiled and nodded. “Mmkay. Thanks.”

Once he got in the car he didn’t acknowledge you in the least bit, finally free to punish you for letting those men get a free show.

“Not a word?” You nudged his arm as he drove. “You could ask me now.”

He snickered, the most noise he’s made in the last ten minutes.

“You don’t get to just fucking claim me, Joel!”

Joel sped up before pulling into a rest area.

“Come’ere,” he hoarsely demanded.

He unclipped his seatbelt and began undoing his belt and jeans.

“Don’t get all fuckin’ shy on me now, girl. Come on.”

You hesitated but unbuckled your seatbelt and climbed into his lap; he moved his seat all the way back and pushed his jeans low enough for his cock to spring up and slap his belly.

Instinctively you reached for it, but he removed your hand from his hardening length and held your wrists tightly behind your back with one hand. Using his other hand to grab your face by your cheeks he forced you to look into his cold eyes.

“Do you not want to be with me?” His voice strained as he asked that, a hint of hurt glaring in his dark eyes.

“Of course I want to be with you,” you answered.

“I don’t play games,” he said, gripping your wrists even tighter. “Don’t fucking—“ A soft smack landed upon your cheek. “Don’t fucking do what you did tonight ever again. Get on your knees.”

He slightly shoved you back as he loosened his grip on your hands and face; you submissively sank to the rough carpeted floor of the car and he wasted no time pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail and shoving his fat dick into your wet mouth.

He tasted so fucking good, the mix of his clean flesh and salty precum like honey dripping onto your tongue. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned along his shaft as you eagerly bobbed your already hazy head up and down.

Joel’s hips rolled up in pleasure, gurgling out helpless moans as your nose rubbed the wiry hairs along the base of his shaft. Despite the aching and soreness, you loved having your throat full of Joel.

You took initiative and pushed against his hand, nonverbally telling him to make you suffer, and he shamelessly did so.

He couldn’t tell if the slick that was coating his balls was your spit or tears and he didn’t give a fuck. If you were going to show some loser teenager your tits and some loser bachelors your ass the least you could give him was some fucking remorse, right?

Joel felt powerful, in charge in ways he never experienced before. Your flooded eyes looked into his and saw how contorted his face was, so even if he was the one telling you what to do you knew you had him wrapped around your finger.

“Give me that fuckin’ throat, baby,” he moaned. “Oh, fuck! That throat is so fucking tight—mnh. God…damn baby. Feels so fucking good.”

He smacked your wet cheeks as encouragement before slowly pulling you off of his dick; you coughed at the gust of oxygen that flooded your lungs, giggling as he smacked his fat tip against your puffy mouth.

“Look at you, baby,” he whispered. “So pretty when my cock shuts that smart fuckin’ mouth a’yours up.”

“You love my fucking mouth,” you smugly said as you climbed into his lap.

“I do, but I think you forget what it’s supposed to be used for,” he whispered.

“You can stuff my mouth all you want, I’m still gonna give you a reason to use it.”

An eyebrow of his cocked up and a grin spread across his face at your confidence.

“Take your pants off,” he instructed seductively. His rough hands ran up your arms and back while you did what he said. “There you go,” he moaned when you slid down on his wet cock. “You’re such a good fucking slut for me, honey.”

“Just—just ask me, and I’ll s-say yes!” You shakily moaned as you relentlessly bounced on his dick.

Joel gripped your neck and began fucking into you from below, pushing deeper than he needed to, definitely bruising your cervix.

“You know you belong to me. All that fucking shit about claiming you and how I don’t own you, fuck was that?”

“Joe—elll, ugh!” You screamed into his chest, not sure if you were cumming or if your cunt was just overwhelmed with sensitivity. “Just ask, just ask baby I promise I’ll be good I’ll never misbehave again.”

He popped your ass and chuckled cruelly when you flinched and moaned. “Be my girlfriend, babydoll. Hmm? I want you to be my girl. You’re already my slut. Will you be my girl, babydoll?”

Your eyes gawked up at him and you couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged against your lips.

“Yes! Yes, yes, baby! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“Say it,” he begged. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours Joel! Fuckfuckyes I’m yours! I belong to you! I fucking belong to you!”

Joel felt the familiar deep stretch in the peak of his belly at your cries. He listened to you submit to him, let him claim you as his, ultimately marking his territory as he began to cum inside of your warm cunt.

“Thaaaat’s my good girl,” Joel growled as he fucked the last of his spend into you.

“Fuck,” you exhaled, climbing off of him. “You’re such an ass.”

He chuckled at this, the softness in his laughter coaxing a giggle from you.

“You love me,” he mumbled.

“Mmm, not quite,” you said as confidently as your tired body would allow.

“Oh, honeypie… You’ll get there soon enough.”

#pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller tlou #beekeeper!joel #pedro

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salamanderst · 7 days

Text

Think I’m fuckin’ around? (C.S)

part one

Dealer!chris x black!reader

Warings: SMUTTTTT, smoking weed, high sex, p in v, degrading, dom!chris, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), use of y/n (i tried to use it as little as possible), use of pet names (ma & baby) let me know if there is anything else!!

A/N: guys just because it says black!reader you can still read it regardless of your ethnicity, just remember the CHARTER is a black women, you are just reading her perspective. Also I’m so sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, English is not my first language 😔

also this is gonna be a part srs!!

5 minutes later after Chris texted me, i hear my door open. i forgot this man has a key.. "hey ma, where ya' at?" he said walking into my apartment. "couch." i shout back. he sits down beside me pulling out 2 joints from his backpack, "okay, you gotta listen this shit strong. like this ain't no pussy shit, k?" he said giving me a stern look.

"Chris i literally don't give a fuck, just give me my weed." i whine, reaching for the baggy. "you'll get your weed when you listen to what i say." he said, swiftly lifting his hand up that had the joints, up in the air. "okay. i heard you." i said sighing. "good." he said giving me a kiss on the cheek.

he passed me the joints as i leaned over and grabbed my money. "m'k Chris, how much i owe you?"

"you get em'for free if you let me smoke with you.." he said throwing his head back on the couch. "that's a pretty good deal, i might have to take that up.." i said with a smirk. he tilted his head at me his hands behind his head. "mmh, okay you can smoke with me." i smiled.

Chris wasn't lying when he said this shit strong, because holy shit i am high. and only off one joint, when it normally takes 2. "you feeling good ma?" Chris laughed watching me zone out at the show i put on. i threw my face in my hands muffling, "Chris when you said this is strong, i didn't think you meant this strong." i groaned. " you think i fuck around? ion sell pussy shit." he said taking another hit of the joint.

i giggled seeing him taking another hit. "whats so funny?" he said, smoke escaping his mouth. "just funny you always wanna stay over when i ask for weed..." what am i saying? "mmh really?" he said raising his eyebrows with sleepy eyes, coming closing to me. my breath hitched as he came closer to me. Chris always flirted with me, i never flirted back because i didn't want to start anything, i mean his weed is really good i cant risk that. but right now things felt different...?

"i- mean im not complaining..." i said felling his breath on me as he got closer. "didn't think you were ma..." Chris said whispering in my ear, making me feel hot in my chest. he started kissing down my neck, putting his left hand on my shoulder his joint in the other.

"this okay..?" he said, lifting his head to look at me. "yes." i said my eyes fluttering. Chris reached for the ash trey taking one last hit before he put out his joint. he moved both his hand to my neck as he kissed my jaw line, making his way to my lips. he made it to my lips giving me a small peck then ripping away, leaving me wanting more.

"c'mere.." he said softly leaning back on the couch, indicting me to crawl onto his lap. i sat up moving onto his lap, straddling him and placing my hands on his shoulders. he moved his hand to my waist, running his hands up and down slowly on my sides. he placed his lips on mine, i gasps into the kiss, he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. i slowly started to rock my hips back and fourth, feeling him grow harder under me.

he slide his right hand down onto my thigh, slowly making his way up to my core. he grazed my heat with his knuckle through my sweats, making me gasp and pull away from the kiss. "this okay..?" he whispered leaning his head to the crook of my neck. "mhm.." i groaned nodding my head. he slide his hand down into my sweats, then going into my underwear. feeling his cold hand against me cupping my pussy making me lift up my body. he started rubbing circles around my core well pulling me back into a kiss.

i held onto his shoulder as i grinded on his hand, moaning into the kiss. he slipped his tongue in and out of my mouth, with each moan that left my lips. i could feel the smirk on his face. he pulled his hands out of my pants, and removed his lips from mine. "wha-" i started to speak, cut off by him lifting me off his lap. he stood up to remove his sweat. then pulling off mine, making me laugh, leaving us both in our underwear.

"m'k come back.." he said sitting down on the couch his arms open. i sat back down on his laps, his hands reconnecting with my waist. he pushed his lips on mine again, this time with more hunger. he lifted his hips up, telling me to rocking back and fourth, so i did. i whimpered into the kiss as i felt him getting harder and harder under me. he pulled away from the kiss again, then moving down to my neck to leave marks. "Chri-hugh i have places to be tomorrow.." i said my breath hitching as he held my hips, making them rock back and fourth faster.

Chris once again removed me from his lap making me sit beside him. "turn around.." he said, still sitting beside me, i turned around my knees on the cushion of then couch and my elbows right over the couch. he moved behind me removing his boxers, holy shit he was big. "you're okay with this ma..?" he said looking me in the eyes with a soft look. "y-es Chris." i said not wanting to wait any longer.

he slid my panties to the side. he pushed his tip on my folds, mixing our juices and using it as a substitute of lubricate. without warning he rammed his cock into me, making he moan loudly. he held onto my hips, going at a slow pace that was gradually becoming faster. "o-oh f-uck.. you ta-king my cock so-oo well ma.." he moaned, as his cocked slid in and out of me.

my jaw hung open moans consonantly leaving my mouth with every thrust. "oo-oh fuck Ch-ris you feel so good.." i moaned my eyes squeezed shut. "mmh.. yea? you like this dick.." he groaned leaning down to whisper in my ear. "you like when i fuck you like this.. huh?" he said his movements becoming faster.

"mmgh f-fuck y-yes." i groaned. skin slapping filled my apartment. "mmh so so good f'me baby.." he groaned lifting his body back up. he grabbed my hair making it into a pony tail. "mmhgh.. C-hris faster- pl-lease." i moaned feel myself becoming closer. no word just movement, Chris slammed into me making scream of pleasure. his thrust become faster and harder, my vision become fussy, as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. Chris was tugging on my hair making my head lift up as his moments become even faster. "g-gonna cu-m." i couldn't even say a proper sentence just simple words. "fucked yo-u s-so good can't even talk.." he groaned with each thrust. i cursed out with my moans, whimpering Chris's name every second.

i felt the not in mt stomach grow, my climax was so close. "ne-ed too c-cum.." i moaned. "cum baby." he whispered. his words made me reach the edge. my mouth hung open as i made a mess on his cock. soon after he quickly pulled out painting my shirt with his cum. "mhg f-fuck." he whimpered under his breath.

"sorry ma, i didn't mean to ruin your shirt.." he huffed out a laugh still out of breath. i giggled back my arms hung over the couch, trying to catch my breath. "c'mere lets go get cleaned up ma.."

heh... whyd i kinda eat... (proud)

145 notes · View notes

leeknowsnot · 1 year

Text

kinktober — the god of love (minho)

genre: smut (minors dni), fluff

content: minho x reader, god of love minho au, reader is a hopeless romantic because i am too, greek god themes, he is eros the god of love, modernized greek gods, body worship, vanilla, just pure love, mature themes, mention of p-rn

oh my god, this is my first smut on this page. i hope i did okay though, it's been a long while since i wrote smut. anyway, i'll try starting on the others soon! read at your own risk

kinktober masterlist

Piles of paperwork laid before him. His eyes scrutinized every paper, dreading the sight of the amount of work he'd have to do. What was he doing here anyway? Right. He was called in for some extra work because the amount of stuff that the employees under him had to do was overwhelming.

Piles and piles of paperwork. "Over what?" his colleague would ask him and he would roll his eyes.

"Some dumbass woman who can't stop falling in love and getting heartbroken over every goddamn man," he would complain.

For Minho, being the God of Love wasn't all arrows and rainbows. Oh look, a girl crushing on a guy. Let's shoot an arrow to his chest so he could fall in love with her too! No. He wasn't highschool cupid. It wasn't as easy as that, unlike what most people would actually think. If he was going to be honest, there wasn't much field work to begin with. The only field work he'd do is to sit on his chair, observing people as they fall in love with each other, only to deal with multiple paperwork as soon as couples start falling out and breaking up with each other. He hated how people treated love as if it was something so dispensable. Like a one-time thing. Well, mostly because it gave him so much work to deal with.

And you, on the other hand, was one of those types that he hated the most: a hopeless romantic. He never really believed in hoping for love despite being the God of Love himself. Stop falling in love multiple times in a year. He always wanted to drill that into your brain each time he'd come down from HQ to observe you and your stupid attempts at pursuing whoever you were onto at the moment. He would lie if he said he never cringed everytime you'd blush at the smallest things. He was annoyed at how you always fell so hard over the bare minimum.

He types away angrily at his keyboard, cursing under his breath. "12th time this fucking year. I swear, if that shithead falls in love with the wrong guy again, I'm gonna shoot myself."

His fingers stop typing, eyes staring into the screen as his eyebrows rest on a permanent scowl on his face. He stared at your image through the documents, analyzing every feature on your face. He wouldn't deny the fact that you were attractive in a way, which made him wonder for a moment why you'd always fail at your attempts on finding love.

Minho sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose before he stands up from his seat. "Better pay her a short visit. I need some amusement after all that headache she's been giving me," he mutters to himself.

...

Minho sat there, eyebrows raised. You weren't the type to wear revealing dresses and yet here you were, a scissor away from being practically naked. Okay, maybe he was exaggerating since you only opted to expose your shoulders but you never really showed much skin before. Each time Minho would drop by secretly to observe you during your dates to see if they'd finally succeed, you were either wearing cute floral dresses, or anything that was wholesome. But then again, he had to remind himself where he had to go just to check on you.

A nightclub.

In all honesty, some shoulderless blouse was just the tip of the iceberg compared to how the others dressed. Some were practically naked but Minho didn't pay much attention to them. His eyes were focused on eyeing you at the other side of the room, through grinding bodies.

Though, his gaze on your faltered as soon as a woman sat beside him, brushing her arm on his that was rested on top of the counter. "Hey there, pretty boy," the woman winked at him.

Minho wanted to puke then and there and his expression said it all. He eyed the woman from head to toe, immediately disgusted at her mere presence. He brought his eyes back to you but as soon as he did so, he saw you swaying by the dancefloor with some guy.

Now, Minho wasn't the type to be fazed by such a sight, but the way the man roamed his hands around your torso and attempted to grind his hips towards yours slightly annoyed Minho. Especially with how your face would contort and twitch in discomfort. You were trying your best to hide it and make light of the situation but Minho knew better than to not notice.

He stood up from his seat, tossing all reasoning aside and decided to pull you out of whatever shit you had gotten yourself into just so you could get yourself a lover. "To hell with that," he thought. You were looking for love at the wrong place. The worst place, in fact.

As soon as he arrived at your spot, he grabbed your wrist, earning a surprised yelp from you. He didn't look at you but at the man who was already 5 seconds away from zipping off his pants. Minho was glaring. "Keep your hands and your dick to yourself, yeah?" he tells off the man, earning himself a drunk response but all noise had been shut out and the fucks he could give was thrown out the window the moment he turned to you. "What were you trying to get yourself into, you idiot?"

Minho forgot that he was the only one who knew you like the back of his hand at this point. He was basically a stranger to you. But as he looked into your eyes, you lost yourself in them. His voice came out as muffled due to the trance you were in from the alcohol you just had earlier. And Minho noticed this so he snapped into your face but to no avail.

He dragged you out of the club and you could swear the door that was supposed to lead outside the streets led to somewhere else when Minho opened it but you decided that it was your mind and the alcohol playing its tricks on you. Minho brought you to his office through the club's door—an ability that always proved to be handy. He made you sit on his couch, giving you a glass of water.

"Drink that. It'll help with the hangover," he says. He never had hangover before since human liquor never really had much of an effect for him and the other Gods but he saw how bad humans had it each time they'd have hangovers. "How many glasses did you have anyway," he mumbles under his breath, not particularly expecting you to hear or respond.

His hand bring itself up to your face as he holds a towel, wiping off your sweat. "You suck at taking care of yourself. You always put those idiots first before yourself, that's why you're always getting rejected," he mumbles again, an annoyed expression now on his face. However, his expression turns into confusion as soon as he sees you squint your eyes at him.

"You... look familiar," you say, a hiccup following your sentence as you try your best to dig your memories through your drunken stupor.

Minho shakes his head. "Don't be ridiculous. No one looks like me," he says but you suck air between your teeth.

"No, I swear I've seen you somewhere," you dazingly tapped on your temple before your eyes widen in realization and you point at him. "Oh, I remember now! I see you a lot of times whenever I..." you trail off your sentence. You gasp. "You're always around whenever I meet guys for dates! Are you perhaps, my stalker?"

This earned you a light slap on the forehead from Minho.

"You didn't have to hit my head!" you pouted at him.

"Stop pouting, you look ugly," he says as he removes your shoes. "I wasn't stalking you."

You squint your eyes again at him. Both at his answer and as to why he was removing your shoes. "Then what were you doing? And what are you doing?"

Minho glances up at you with a look of disbelief. "Removing your shoes, if that's not obvious enough," he turns back to removing your other shoe. "I thought you were dumb only with love. You're dumb with telling actions too."

You frown, "Why are you even removing my shoes?! Put them back on??"

"For the record, you are not Cinderella. And you'd rather I let you get blisters? Why did you even wear heels? You never wore heels," he whispers the last part. You blink.

"You are my stalker," you gasp, earning another glare from Minho.

As he finished removing your shoes, he plops himself back down beside you. "I was observing you," he says, answering your question.

"Yeah, you were stalking me," you butt in.

"Stalking is different from observing. Get your facts right," he argues back.

'This man,' you thought to yourself as you look at him in disbelief. Though despite his sarcastic remarks, you could feel as if you knew him for a long time already. Or maybe because you'd see him a lot everywhere. You always thought it was coincidence.

"Why were you observing me?" you ask him.

Minho sighs, rubbing his face with a hand as he looks at you, probably being annoyed at how much you were asking him. "Entertainment. Your idiocy amuses me," he sarcastically replies.

You were speechless.

First, this man ruins your date. Your chances of getting laid tonight. You didn't mind if it was drunk sex, as long as it was sex, that was how hopeless you were. Second, he denies being your stalker. Third, he was mocking your poor taste in men and bad luck in love. And lastly, he was telling you that you were basically a no go because you were an idiot.

"I can't believe this," you scoff under your breath. "You ruined my chances for... this."

Minho raises an eyebrow at you. "Chances at what."

You roll your eyes at him. "Getting laid."

Minho stares at you for a while before sighing. You were such a piece of work. On second thought, he'd rather deal with paperwork than your attitude. He shakes his head in hopelessness, eyes still at you.

"You were going to settle with drunk sex?" he asked with a tone of as-a-matter-of-fact. When you nodded, he chuckled in disbelief.

"Well, what do you want me to do then?" you snapped your head at him. "I always fail at romance. I try to establish wholesome relationships but they... They just fail. And this..." you pause. "It may not be the best option, but it's my only chance of actually getting a guy."

Minho was amused at how emotional you were getting. He could see the tears forming in your eyes as you explain. Sure, Minho was getting frustrated over this ordeal, but you were too and he just realized that. If he was getting annoyed over paperwork, then it meant people were hurting too. You were hurting too.

For some reason, Minho disliked that idea. For the longest time, he'd see the brightest smiles on your face each time you fell in love or experienced something akin to love. He thought it was only for work that he'd come down to observe you each time you go on dates. But in truth, he liked seeing you smile. He didn't know how or when it started. He just... liked to see your face brighten up.

Maybe he wasn't annoyed at you because you always fell in love and get broken and give him more paperwork. Maybe he was annoyed at the fact that people kept on hurting you. He was annoyed at the fact that guys always took advantage of your love. He was annoyed at the fact that you always gave it your all to guys who didn't deserve any of your love. He was annoyed at himself for seeing it otherwise.

Minho chuckles, more at himself than at you. "That's such a sad excuse to find love, it's pathetic."

You turned your head towards him, about to retort but you shut yourself up as soon as he brought his face close to yours. Your eyes widened. "What—"

"You're pathetic," he mumbles. "I can't believe you're going to settle with just that." Then, he closes the gap between you two. His lips touched yours momentarily, brushing like a feather before diving deep. For a second, it was as if your world stopped. You may have had failed attempts at love but that doesn't mean you never had kisses. Though, most of them were empty. In fact, you've had too many kisses to the point that you had to think to yourself if you'll only get kisses for the rest of your life.

But this. This was... You couldn't put the right words. No, that was the perfect word for it. Right. It felt so... right.

The kiss felt too short as soon as he pulled away, eyes staring into yours. You could swear you could see the whole universe in them. You barely talked to this man for more than an hour and yet you feel like you've known him forever.

Minho's eyes trail from your eyes to your lips. He has always seen you. How you look. How you dressed. How you spoke. But he has never seen you this close. And now that he has, it was as if he was looking at Zeus' finest piece of art. Your beauty held more charm than Aphrodite herself. Hell, you'd start more wars than Helen of Troy ever did with that pretty little face of yours.

He parts his lips, his warm breath adding fuel to the warmth that had now spread on your blushing face. "In all of my decades, observing your kind and mine," he pauses. "I have never met anyone as beautiful as you."

"I wonder which God sculpted you," he mutters under his breath, eyes bearing themselves into yours. "Those eyes. They're like Narcissus. I could get lost just by staring at them."

He placed another kiss on your lips, this time much softer than the last.

"Those men are fools," he says. "They could never see true beauty. Beauty that has so willingly presented itself before them."

It was as if he had fallen right then and there. The irony of being the God of Love was that he barely fell in love himself. But when he does, he falls deep. Turns into such poet. Just as how he was letting himself become vulnerable before you.

He takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect pieces of a puzzle. You were entranced. You didn't know how or why. But the way his hand would graze on your skin felt like electricity. The good kind where the hair on your back would stand each time you'd feel warm air breeze through while you are cold. Like goosebumps.

You wondered if there was something in that water that he had given you earlier. Aphrodisiac? No. There was nothing in there. And yet you felt so entranced. So pulled in. So dazed. You had never felt this feeling before from your past lovers. Then again, were those even love? Or just infatuation? Was it the true definition of love, or was this the true definition of love? Maybe it was just the effect of having the God of Love himself being so close to you. But you were none the wiser of his identity as a God. And yet he pulled you in like gravity.

His lips placed a chaste kiss on your lips once more, gradually travelling towards your cheek, your jawline, and your neck. They were slow yet passionate. His hands ran up your arms, holding your shoulder as he carefully lays you on the couch so you'd feel comfortable.

Minho looks at you once more. "Will you let me show you what love is?" he asks with a quiet tone. You stare at him for a short while, with him still placing soft kisses on your neck as he waits for your response. Eventually, you nod.

He hums quietly in satisfaction. "Just follow my lead," he says.

You don't know what happened after that. You only remember his occasional glances. His chaste kisses on your skin. His hands caressing everywhere they could land on, memorizing your every curve. You only remember laying there, naked.

His gaze on you never faltered. His eyes memorized every feature, taking in every imperfection that you had. As a God, he was but used to seeing only the perfect complexions. But with your body, the imperfections were what made you more beautiful in his eyes.

Minho leans down towards you, brushing the back of his fingers on your cheek softly. He held you as if you were porcelain. No rough movements. No raspy caresses. "Stop looking for love," he muses. "Because love himself is presenting itself to you." He takes your hand, placing a kiss on your knuckles. "Love itself is yours to take."

You part your lips with a soft gasp. No one, not even one man has ever told you such words. No one, not even one man has ever seen you this naked. No one, not even one man has ever held you as much as this man did. And he was worshipping you with both his words, his kisses, and his touches.

His hand pulled you closer for another kiss before caressing down your body, eventually resting itself on your thigh. His thumb brushes on your skin before travelling towards your inner thigh. His finger lingers too close to your core. Not touching, but you could feel it. Minho smiles at your reaction, chuckling as he finally runs a digit through your folds.

You lightly gasp, biting your lower lip to immediately stop yourself from letting out a sound. He looks up at you, amused by your sensitivity. You couldn't blame him. After all, you were a virgin. Both by touch and by intercourse. He could immediately tell as he continued running his finger through your heat, dragging through every slick as a string of your love juice connects your nub and the tip of his finger with every slow stroke. He traces small circles around your clit, earning a shivery hum from you as you cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

You hated how slow he was teasing you. Minho, however, was loving every second of it. How red your cheeks were right now. How half-lidded your eyes were. How wet you already were with just a few kisses and a few strokes.

He leans towards your chest, taking out his tongue to gently brush on one of your nipples, making you twitch. "You're quite easy to please," he mutters as he flicks his tongue and sucks lightly on your nipple. "But then again... You are a virgin."

This made your eyes widen. You tilted your head to the side, covering your face with embarrassment. You hear Minho chuckle before he takes your wrists, removing your hands from your face. "Shhh, it's okay." he whispers in your ear. He places a quiet kiss on your ear lobe. He faces you again. "At least you didn't get to experience how horrible and selfish those men are when it comes to making love."

His smile falters. "No. They don't call it making love, do they?" his eyes trail down to your stomach, bringing himself down so he could place kisses and kitten licks on your skin. "I believe most of them like calling it casual sex."

"Bastards," he curses under his breath before lowering himself again, this time being face-to-face with your heat. You embarrassingly closed your legs, momentarily making him react as your thighs envelope his head. He looks up at you with an amused smirk. "Guess you're into that, huh?" he mumbles with a husky tone before finally leaning in.

You could swear you momentarily saw stars as soon as his warm, wet tongue ran through your folds. His breath would always exhale each time he would swirl his tongue around your clit, slurping occasionally from his makeshift chalice.

You were sweeter than ambrosia and nectar, and he couldn't have enough. You were a walking cardinal sin, ready to prey on a God, to tempt him to indulge in such temptation. And that God was him. Except that you weren't tempting him, but it was him who willingly walked into your trap without any provocation.

The God of Love, enchanted by a human being. By you.

As his sucks and licks increased their pace, so did your stiffled moans. "Don't keep your moans to yourself," he says. "I'd love some good music." He stuck his tongue inside of you, exploring every crevice of your walls as much as he could while his teeth would occasionally scrape lightly through your clit. When you finally moan out loud unintentionally, he smiles. "That's it. Let me hear your pretty voice."

Every second that he spent worshipping you with his tongue brought you closer to something. You were already way past from what you used to consider as climax from your self-ministrations but this was something else. Something higher. Something more pleasurable.

You subconsciously grabbed his head, pulling his head closer. Minho's eyes widen a bit, surprised at your action but complies anyway. He smirks, tongue lapping you up faster as his mouth starts making the most sinful sounds as he sucks you in his mouth. He holds both your legs, determined to make you see a taste of heaven just as much as how he was tasting his own version of heaven through you.

As he gives you a long, dragging suck with the swirling of his tongue on your clit, it finally brings you to the edge. Your eyes shut tight, mouth hung open, and back arched as you cry out in pleasure. Your legs shake as they attempt to wiggle out from his grasps but his hold was strong, keeping you in place as he continues to suck on you, giving you overstimulation as you ride your first high.

He eventually lets you recover as you pant, now hovering above you as he licks away the remaining juices off his lips as if it was syrup. His eyes observe you, loving how helpless you looked as you tried to catch your breath from just a single climax, and just with a simple oral too. Minho brushes off a stray hair off your face, tucking it behind your ear as he places a kiss on your forehead.

"Well?" he asks. "It's good, isn't it?" You were too out of it to even answer. No one could blame you, the first orgasm—whether it was oral or not—was always the most mind-blowing. Too mind-blowing it turned you speechless in a matter of minutes. "That guy you were dancing with wouldn't even give a single fuck whether you'd cum or not," he says. "He'd only want to put his sad excuse of a dick inside that pretty little mouth and call it a day."

Minho places a soft kiss on your lips. "Human men won't care for you as much as Love himself would," he pauses. "Because they do not know love. They only know Lust."

He gently opens your legs, zipping down his own pants in the process. "Let me make love to you," Minho says, caressing your thighs as he raises them. He places kisses on your legs. When you finally recover from your trance, you glance at him. He was now as naked as you were but you could swear you were laying your eyes upon a God. And you really were.

He was perfect regardless wherever you would lay your eyes upon. Especially his arms. God, his arms were like nothing you have ever seen and yet they held you with such care. He could flail you around like a ragdoll, just like what most men would do in those porn videos you'd watch each time you felt a little lonely. But no, he held you as if you were a priceless vase. He'd trace your body as if it was some rare artwork to revel on at a museum. He'd draw you in his head like you were one of his French girls. Except that he didn't have any of those. You were the only girl that made a significance within his eyes.

You finally gave in, tossing all reason aside. If this was going to be your final chance at love, you prayed. Then you might as well let it happen.

Your tongues danced within a kiss, intertwining with each other both emotionally and physically. He clung unto you and you clung unto him, bodies pressing into each other as your sweat would momentarily stick each time Minho would close the proximity between you two. His thrusts started as slow yet passionate strokes, your velvety walls hugging around him as you moan in between gaps of your sloppy kisses. His hand caresses your waist, resting by your hips as he grips them only to pull you back towards him so you'd meet his thrusts.

He wasn't ruthless. He wasn't in a rush. He wasn't destroying you. And just like he said, he wasn't just giving you sex. He was making love with you. His slow thrust eventually increase its pace, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix at each thrust. The sinful sound of skins slapping fill the walls of his office, mixed in by both your moans. He would always place wet, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and latch his lips on your nipple, never having enough of you as he drives deeper and deeper into you.

If he could, he would bury himself into you. Get lost in pleasure with you. Stay inside you. If it meant showing you what love really was, he would do it. Every stroke sent waves of pleasure through your body and his as your moans encouraged him to go even deeper. He couldn't get enough of the way you looked at him. How your lips would mouth incoherent words as he continues to savor the feeling of being inside you.

Soon enough, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing and ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around Minho's neck, pulling him closer as you yourself get closer to your own climax once more. He could feel you slowly tightening around him, a smirk finding its way on his lips.

"Cumming again?" he whispers, quiet groans lacing his question in between as he starts to thrust into you at a faster pace. You nod absentmindedly, eyes shut tight as you arch your back once more. He raises your legs, gaining more access to thrust deeper. "Deeper," he mumbles. "A little more."

With each thrust, his cock reached deeper depths that you didn't know were reachable. It sent you on edge. With his one final thrust, he finally hits that button needed for you to snap, making you moan out loud. The way you suddenly clenched around him as he was buried deep inside you made him reach his own climax as well, painting your walls with his own release. "Cumming cumming cumming!" you mutter, hands gripping on his arms as his groans muffle themselves in your neck.

You both laid there, gasping for air in each other's arms, savoring each other's warmth before Minho finally raises his head from your neck and looks at you. His face held the most loving and softest expression. He was smiling at your dazed state.

He places a kiss on your forehead. On your nose. And on your lips before looking into your half-lidded eyes. "I'll be back soon," he says. He said something else after that but you were too exhausted to even remember as your eyes finally closed, sending you into a state of rest.

...

You awoke with a jolt as you shot up from your bed, eyes open wide as you pant. You glanced around, immediately recognizing your surroundings as your bedroom. You frown to yourself, glancing down beneath the blanket.

What the hell happened? you asked yourself. You weren't exactly sure. You remembered being in a bar to meet up with that tinder date you have been crushing on since last week but after that, you passed out—probably from alcohol and now here you were, confused.

You wondered how you got home in the first place.

And that dream, you sighed to yourself, feeling your core wet from whatever dream you had. You shook your head, a palm running through your face as you groan in frustration.

"I can't believe I was so desperate to the point I'd dream of making love with someone," you roll your eyes at yourself as you throw yourself back on the bed again. This time, hugging your pillow and your curiosity piqued at your dream. "Whoever that guy was in my dream was really attractive though," you mutter to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Minho observed you through the window of your room from far a way, chuckling. He observes your pretty features first before finally turning around.

He'll remain in your dreams for now. After all, that was how Greek Gods would visit their human love affairs—through dreams. Though this time, he'd visit your dreams frequently.

Maybe because he wants less paperwork from you. Maybe because he wants you to pine for him more than the men you'd meet.

Eitherway, he can't wait until he visits you the next time you close your eyes again.

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