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joelscruff · 11 months

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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FIVE

previous chapters | kofi | i'm honestly amazed that i actually completed this chapter today; as a lot of yall know i've been dealing with a lot of shitty life stuff lately and part of me expected this to not even get posted this month. and yet!! here we are. thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and amazing, this chapter is for you and i hope you like it 💖 chapter summary: you're starting to feel a bit insecure about your relationship with joel. perhaps a late night visit to his house is what you need 👀 rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), fingering, handjobs, comeplay word count: 9k (woops) ao3

The rest of the week goes by gruelingly slow. Joel is busy every day and has barely any time to talk, so you mainly communicate through texts. The "conversations" are slow and broken, Joel only able to text when he has a free moment, which doesn't seem to be very often. You don't talk on the phone again, as much as you want to hear his voice, and you don't sext again either. It's a bit weird, a bit confusing, but you navigate it as best you can. It's not like he's ignoring you, he always responds, but it's just not the same as that first day.

you still wanna do this, right?

You type it around midnight on Thursday, hands trembling a bit as you hover over the send button. In one way you're afraid to ask him, afraid to seem clingy or young or inexperienced; but you're all of those things. When he's actually talking to you directly there's no fear, no question about what he wants, but going so long without hearing his voice makes you more and more insecure about what exactly he's thinking.

You erase the first message and start to type another one:

i know you're busy but

You shake your head and erase that one too. This is so stupid. Of course he still wants you, you idiot.

He'd said he was okay with the lie you'd told, had even said he would actually teach you guitar now too, but you're an overthinker, always have been. You can't help but feel dread whirling around in the pit of your stomach; he wants to end it, it's too complicated now. You've turned something sexy and fun into something ridiculous and unnecessary.

You lock your phone without sending anything and roll around in bed a bit, trying to sleep. Your thoughts make it impossible though, nagging at the front of your mind worse than your parents. You sit up and slide the tip of your thumb into your mouth, biting down in thought and staring at the blank screen of your phone.

What if you just...

are you home?

He hadn't sent you anything earlier to confirm he'd gotten back; you've discovered over the past few days that contractors really like to drink after their shift. Joel's been at the bar every night since that first day, often 'til late; you have to admit, it makes you a bit jealous to imagine Joel and his contracting crew out having a great time while you're laying in your childhood bed with a curfew. Bar hopping and partying has never appealed to you before, at least not when your college friends did it, but now the thought of it doesn't seem so bad. Not if you were doing it with him...

Your phone buzzes and you feel excitement burst through you at his reply:

Got in about 10 minutes ago, didn't think you'd be up. You okay?

You soften at his concern, cheeks warming. You don't hesitate, knowing if you think too much about it you'll end up changing your mind. You type your your response and hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.

can i come over?

You stare at the screen with bated breath, watching as his typing bubble appears. It takes barely any time at all for him to reply:

Of course you can. Door's unlocked.

Sneaking out of your house is much easier than you thought it'd be. You've never done it before, had almost expected the bottom half of your house to suddenly have some kind of security system with lasers and cameras, but nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You're wearing one of your old nightdresses, pink and frilly; you'd opted to start wearing them again the other day, liking the way they made you feel, accentuating your legs and breasts like your old Sunday school dress. You'd changed quickly every morning before going downstairs to save your parents from the heart attacks they'd have seeing you with so little skin coverage. But there's no need to change now, not with where you're going. You yank on a jacket and sneakers and carefully open and close the front door, scurrying out into the cool night air.

Joel's house isn't far, just a street over. You try not to run, as much as you want to; you know you'll end up all sweaty and messy haired - the opposite of how you'd like to portray yourself tonight, but your skin is practically glowing with anticipation. You hold the short hem of your nightdress down as you speed walk through the dark suburban streets of your neighborhood.

Your heart starts pounding when his house comes into view; the living room window is dimly lit. You jog up the front steps and take a deep breath before turning the handle, smiling to yourself when it opens easily; he'd really left the door unlocked for you.

"Mr. Miller?" you call in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and turning the lock.

He emerges from the living room and you feel your eyes widen. All he's wearing is a pair of loose fitting plaid pajama pants; nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and probably no underwear. You swallow, eyes trailing up and down the naked solidness of his chest, the greying hair smattered along the skin. He's got a softness to him, a bit of a pudgy belly that makes you want to smile, but his rugged sexiness is even more apparent. His strong pecs, freckled arms, the hair trailing down his stomach and into his pajama pants... it suddenly leaves you unable to breathe or form a coherent thought.

"There's my girl," he says, voice low and husky; he must have talked a lot today, called people's names, ordered them around, "C'mere."

Your brain is still muddled and awestruck as you feel yourself rush forward, arms immediately wrapping around his bare torso. His skin is softer than you'd thought it'd be, warm under your touch as you carefully press your cheek to his chest. You feel the scratch of hair against your skin, reminding you of his age; fifty six. The thought gives you an ache between your legs.

He holds you close and rubs your back, presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, fingers splaying across the wide span of his back. You find yourself able to breathe again, but all you inhale is his scent, fresh and masculine. It's then that you realize his skin is slightly damp, peppered here and there with little droplets of water.

"I just got out of the shower," he says quietly, answering your unspoken question, "Was about to get in bed when you texted but I figured if you were comin' over I should clean myself up a bit."

You hum against his chest, still not sure exactly what to say. The ache between your legs is growing stronger the more you stand here in his embrace; somehow you hadn't expected to feel this way just from hugging him, although you probably should have guessed.

"I wanna get in your bed," you say softly, opening your eyes again and pulling back to look at him. His expression says it all, eyes going dark as they fall to your lips.

"Then let's get in my bed," he murmurs, just as quiet.

The last time you were in Joel's bedroom there'd been more of a sense of urgency, when he'd sat with you in his lap on the edge of his bed and held you open in front of the mirror. Now things are much slower, more quiet. You slip in behind him and unzip your jacket, taking it off and hanging it carefully on the hook behind his door.

"That's pretty," he says behind you, and you feel him reach out to gently touch the pink material, hand ghosting the bare skin of your chest. Your breath hitches and he smiles, "Tiny little thing, isn't it?"

"I've had it for a long time, I thought you might like it."

"I do," he pulls you toward him, then reaches his hands up to thumb the thin straps of the nightdress. You watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes them off your shoulders, "I'm gonna take it off though, that okay?"

Your brow furrows; he notices your reaction and his hands freeze, "Not okay?" he asks, confused slightly.

"N-no, it's okay," you say quickly, "I just... I'm still a little self conscious."

His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, "You have nothin' to be self conscious about, sweetheart," he reassures you, "I wanna see you..." he pushes the straps down your shoulders and you stand there trembling slightly as he pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to him, "There you are."

You shiver a bit under his gaze, but not out of discomfort or fear. You feel safe with him; you know he'd never do anything you didn't consent to. You're just not exactly sure what you want, what exactly you've really come here for. Before you'd left the house you'd been so afraid that he was losing interest, already getting tired of you; now he stares at you like you're some kind of rare gem, making you feel bashful and beautiful under his gaze.

"I wanna touch you," you whisper, the shakiness of your voice betraying your nervousness - or anticipation.

His hands freeze for a few seconds but he regains composure quickly, tugging the dress down further until it's cascading down your legs, putting you completely on display. He swallows audibly, taking you in. You look at his face and feel yourself pulse under his gaze, the way he's staring directly at your bare pussy.

"Let's get in bed," he murmurs, "I think there's a few things we can touch."

His words send a buzzing warmth through your body and you cross your legs unconsciously, an action that makes him smirk. You turn away from him with heat flooding your cheeks as you climb into his bed; it's large and comfortable, but you already know neither of you will be taking advantage of the big space. You sit up against his headboard and pull the duvet up over yourself, hiding your breasts from view - as if he hasn't already seen them.

"I'll keep these on" he says softly, tugging at the band of his pajama pants, "Don't worry."

Your heart leaps to your throat and you nod quickly - probably too quickly. It's not that you're scared to see him naked; you've already seen both halves now and that's taken away a lot of the fear, but the concept of being in bed together, both naked... you're not sure you're ready yet. And you're glad he understands that without you having to say it out loud.

You watch as he climbs into bed and positions himself up against the headboard like you, scooches in next to you so your sides are touching. His skin against yours is unlike anything you've felt with him up until this point; he's so warm, a firm and large presence at your side that immediately has you feeling intimidated. Your nerves are already beginning to set alight just by having him so close. You open your mouth to speak but are unable to say anything when he inches even closer, his bare waist pressing firmly against yours.

"Hey, you're okay," he breathes, reaching up to gently thumb your cheek in a calming motion, brow furrowing slightly, "You don't gotta be nervous, sweetheart, it's only me."

"I'm not nervous," you whisper back, and while you're not exactly being honest there's certainly something else you're feeling, "I'm just..." you cross your legs again under the duvet, "I'm getting really wet."

He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that makes you smile a little, cheeks burning under his gaze. He reaches over and slowly pushes the blankets down from your loose grip, exposing you to him once again. He moves his hand down, fingertips trailing along your bare chest until carefully bringing one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing gently.

"You don't gotta hide these from me, darlin'," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your nipple, sending tingles throughout your body, "They're too pretty to stay outta sight."

You shiver when he carefully tweaks your nipple between his fingers, his gaze firmly set on his movements. You watch together as he plays with it, toys with it, rolls it between thumb and forefinger. The warm and tight feeling sends an odd tingling sensation from your breast to your pussy, like they're connected somehow.

"I'm gonna put this in my mouth," he says softly, "Suck on it a little bit, that okay?"

You can't help but feel a bit unsure, biting your lip, "Is that... does it feel good to do that?"

He nods up at you, thumbing your nipple again slowly, "Feels really good, I promise. You got a lot of nerves here, just like your pussy. Really sensitive."

Your eyes are hazy as you nod to him slowly, "Th-that sounds nice."

At your words he leans his head down and brings your nipple into his mouth, dropping his fingers and replacing his thumb with the warm suction of his lips. You gasp out in surprise, hand coming up to immediately cup the back of his head.

You've never felt anything like this; the suction of his mouth is so new and strange, that tingling sensation returning as you cross your legs tighter and whimper aloud as he sucks your nipple. His tongue is wet and warm, tracing the shape of you in little circles, while his free hand comes up to squeeze your other breast, tweak it with his fingers. Your breath begins to come out raggedly, brow furrowing and legs tightening together as he suckles.

"Oh my god," you hear yourself whimper, hand tightening in his hair, "Why does that feel so good?"

He pulls off your nipple with a quiet laugh, peering up at you, "Yeah, you like the way that feels, babygirl?"

You nod quickly, swallowing and trying to get your breath back, "Yes," you whisper, "A lot."

He smiles at that, "Then how 'bout you lay back for me?"

It's an offer that's impossible to refuse. You quickly pull yourself down from the headboard and slip beneath the covers, head coming to rest on one of his pillows. He slips under as well, then very slowly positions himself on top of you, a leg on either side of your trembling form. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether you're more nervous or excited.

"You're okay," he reassures you again, inching downward a bit and pressing a few gentle kisses to your neck, "Gotta be on top to do this right, so it feels good."

You nod slowly, "I c-can feel..."

"What?" he whispers, "What do you feel?"

Your arms are loose at your sides and Joel's are pinned above you, but there's an unmistakable feeling of something prodding into your thigh, large and thick.

"Your cock," you manage to whisper, voice trembling, "I think."

"That's right," he murmurs, "It's 'cause I'm gettin' hard from suckin' you like that, touchin' you," he trails his fingers down your sides gently, making you shiver, "You like feelin' it there?"

You feel yourself slowly nodding, eyes going even more hazy and hooded, "I wanna touch it."

"I know you do," he whispers, "I want you to touch it too, sweetheart. But I'm gonna play with you a little longer," he leans his face down and licks a small stripe against your other nipple, making your hips buck, "Then I'll teach you how to touch it, that alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, "Please."

"You like when I play with you, don't you?" he murmurs against your breast, then captures your other nipple in his mouth and starts to suck.

"Y-yes," you repeat, hand coming up again to tangle in his hair, already overwhelmed by the sensation, "I missed it."

He hums, sending another cascade of tingles throughout your body. To think that less than half an hour ago you were laying in bed wondering if he still wanted you; now you're naked and he's on top of you with his mouth on your breast. How is this your life?

"What did'ya miss?" he pulls off for barely a few seconds, scruff scratching perfectly against your sensitive skin, "Tell me, babygirl, wanna know what you've been thinkin' about."

You whimper when he goes back to suckling, your fingers threading through his greying curls. It's hard to get your thoughts straight when he's making you feel like this, every tight suck and wet lick going directly to your aching core.

"J-just missed you touching me," you breathe, voice rough and wanton with pleasure, "Missed your hands on me, your fingers..."

At your words he carefully brings one of his hands downward, caressing your body gently as he goes. Your breath hitches when he swipes his middle and index finger down your wet seam, urging you to open up for him. You uncross your trembling legs, looking down to watch as he continues to suck on your breast while his fingers dip down to your wetness.

"Inside," you whisper, finishing your thought but almost giving him a command at the same time; he doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing both fingers past your entrance and slipping them inside your throbbing hole, "Fuck," you whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, "Like that."

You can feel the head of his cock through his pajama pants, pulsing against your thigh, leaving a sticky spot in the fabric. The fact that he's getting hard just by doing this to you, getting wet in his own way, it just turns you on even more.

He pulls off your breast with a wet pop and tilts his head up to look at you, pressing little kisses around your nipple and then pulling himself up a bit to hover over you. You feel his clothed cock prod your lower belly and you shiver again.

"Wanted to be full again, huh?" he murmurs, eyes dark, "Missed havin' these big fingers inside you?"

You nod and tug at his curls, urging him to lean his face down toward you. He takes the hint immediately, smirking a bit before reaching down to press his lips to yours and kiss you hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, contentment and arousal flooding through you as he slowly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your fingers.

"Wanna know what I missed?" he asks against your lips, voice deep and breathy, "Missed this tiny little hole, so tight, all for me," at his words he curls the tips of his fingers inside of you, making you emit a loud whimper that makes him grin, "That's right, takin' my fingers so well, angel. Bet you could take three now," you feel another one of his fingers prod you alongside his others, "You want that, babygirl? Want three of those big fingers?"

You swallow nervously but slowly nod, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "Wanna be full."

"Good girl," he murmurs, brushing his nose lightly against yours, "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You hear the sounds you're making but you're not quite sure where they're coming from or how you're making them; you sound pathetic and breathless as he fucks you with his fingers, teases the third at your hole and leans down to kiss you again. His tongue slips past your lips and you feel the vibration of your own moans in his mouth when his thumb gently teases your clit.

"There you go, angel," he mutters against your lips as his third finger breaches your entrance, slowly pushes past the other two, "Thaaat's it, babygirl."

You tremble underneath him, feeling your body tense up at the new intrusion. You've had three of your own fingers inside yourself, but not three of his, long and thick and so much bigger than your own. You hear your whimpers turn into cries as his fingers fill you up, your own hands coming up to grip his back, nails digging into the skin.

"Shhh," he soothes, trailing more kisses along your face in an attempt to relax you, "You're okay, sweetheart, you're okay." And you are okay, being underneath him like this, being entirely at his mercy as he pushes your limits, helps you discover something new. It burns a bit, stretches and pulls and stings, but he talks you through it, whispers reassuring words in your ear, and you know you're safe.

He stills once all three fingers are deep inside, then pulls himself up a bit to look at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear and peering down with a soft expression despite the depraved circumstances.

"How's that feel?" he whispers, voice gentle and soothing, "Tell me."

You're still making whimpering noises, shaky and quiet, but you're able to reply with the only word you can bring to the front of your mind: "Full."

He smiles down at you, brushes his nose against yours, "You did so good, angel," he murmurs, eyes not leaving yours, "I'm prouda you."

He knows what he's doing with that phrase; immediately you feel yourself loosen beneath him, hands going slightly limp against his back. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly begins to move his fingers again, pumping them in and out at an even pace.

It's amazing. It's so different than just two fingers, so much bigger and fuller - you've never felt anything like it; something so dirty but somehow passionate and warm. He kisses you as he fucks you with them, hovering over you with his hot skin emanating onto yours, wisps of hair from his chest and stomach tickling you everywhere. He thumbs your clit again and you moan loudly against his lips, your orgasm swelling in your belly as your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.

"You gonna come, angel?" he asks you softly, sweetly, pulling back a bit to stare deeply into your wide eyes, "Yeah, you're gonna come on those big fingers, huh? Can feel your pussy gettin' all tight around me, she wants it so bad doesn't she?"

You moan even louder as you frantically nod, "Yes, gonna come, gonna come," you cry out, overwhelmed by the thickness of his fingers and the way he's looking at you, the way he's talking to you; everything is just him.

"That's right, give it to me, sweet girl," he urges you, plunging into you faster and faster as his thumb rotates mercilessly against your clit, "Make a mess for me, soak those fingers, there you go."

You keen, high and borderline ridiculous as you stiffen beneath him and begin to shake, pitiful sounds escaping your mouth as you come. He fucks you through it, watching your face every step of the way and not stopping his movements until you've come down completely. You lay beneath him, chest heaving and eyes closing involuntarily as he strokes your thigh tenderly, reassuringly. He keeps his fingers lodged deep inside of you, not moving but simply keeping you full as you come down from your orgasm; you find yourself hoping he doesn't pull them out just yet.

"Can I show you somethin'?" he asks softly, and you open your eyes to find him still peering down at your face. You can't speak, can only nod as you bite down on your lip and try to catch your breath, your entire brain focused solely on the way his fingers feel inside you. As if he can read your mind, he's suddenly pulling them out and bringing them up to hover between the two of you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, suddenly feeling beyond empty as you pout up at him. He just chuckles to himself, still holding his three fingers - wet and glistening - in front of you while his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his pajama pants. Your eyes go wide, lips parting a bit as you look from his face to where his hand is and back again.

Without words from either of you, he slowly reaches inside and pulls out his cock, thick and dripping. You make a weird sound in the back of your throat, sitting up slightly as you peer at it with wonder. He's showed it to you before, it's nothing new, and yet...

"That's about the same width, wouldn't you say?" he asks you quietly, bringing his dripping fingers down to his hard cock and aligning them side by side; he's right - the thickness of all three of his fingers is relatively similar to the thickness of his cock. There's certainly different aspects - the length being the main difference - but the overall width is pretty spot on.

"Y-yeah," you say softly, eyes glued to it, "Pretty close."

You watch as he carefully drags his fingers along the thick length of his cock, still soaked with your release. He spreads your juices along it with his thumb and fingers, fists it gently and very slowly fucks his fist once. Your eyes are hooded and dark, saliva beginning to pool inside your mouth for reasons you can't even begin to understand.

"You just took three fingers," he continues, thumb tracing the base of his wide tip, "So wouldn't you say that answers a question you've been worryin' your pretty little head about?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, trying to figure out what he means. It's hard to focus on absolutely anything else when his dick is right there in front of you, practically begging to be touched, the fat head pulsing and drooling under your gaze.

"Oh, this is gonna be a problem, isn't it?" he says, amused as he continues to slowly stroke himself, "Can't even think when there's a cock in front of you, huh?"

The words snap you back to reality, but only slightly. You smile sheepishly as you will yourself to look up at his face and away from his dick, "Wh-what question, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles, "You were afraid it wouldn't fit inside you, babygirl," he reminds you gently, "But it will, we just proved that."

Your brain slowly makes sense of what he's saying and you can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you; he's right. It had burned a bit, been uncomfortable for a moment or two, but ultimately you'd been able to take all three and enjoy it. You feel a smile spread across your face, and you notice his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you.

"You're right," you say breathlessly, smile still wide, "I did it, didn't I?"

His expression softens even more and he smiles back at you, laughing quietly to himself. He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it, pulling one of his legs back and moving to sit beside you on the bed instead of over you. Your brow furrows a bit in confusion.

"What is it?"

He just shakes his head, still smiling softly to himself, "Nothin', you're just... you're adorable."

Your cheeks warm at that, unable to help feeling a little self conscious. Now that you've come down from your orgasm you're suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, of the fact that he can see every inch of your body. You draw the covers up around yourself quickly, hoping he won't mind.

"Such a shy little thing," he murmurs softly, but makes no move to pull the blankets down again like he had before, just watches you with a smile as your gaze slowly falls back to where he's hard and aching.

"Can I...?" you can't bring yourself to say the words, feeling flustered and nervous at the very thought. He just nods and reaches over to touch your hand, strokes your trembling fingers in his grip.

You watch as he carefully maneuvers your hand toward his crotch and slowly places your hand on his cock. Your fingers curl around his girth almost instinctively, imitating what you've seen him do before. Your lips part, breath hitching as your skin touches his most intimate area, a place on a man you never thought you'd ever be able to feel, at least not until you were married.

It's soft. Not in terms of arousal but just in texture, a silky and smooth feeling you hadn't been expecting. You stare down at your own hand in slight awe as your thumb gently strokes along his shaft, brow furrowing at how different it is than what you'd imagined. It's surprisingly just a body part, just an extension of Joel that usually remains hidden and secret; it's not as scary or intimidating when you can touch it like this, play with it like he plays with you.

"Wow," you say softly, barely aware of it as your fist ever so slowly moves along his length, pumps him just once in that hypnotic way he'd showed you; he's still covered in your own release, wet and slippery, but somehow you don't feel grossed out by it.

"You're a natural," he replies just as quietly, and your skin heats again when you look up to see his face, see the desire and pleasure in his expression, "Don't think there's much I need to teach you, to be honest. My parts are a lot simpler than yours."

You smile to yourself and pump him slowly again, this time brushing against the wet and throbbing tip. He makes a faint grunting sound that makes your eyebrows go up.

"This part..." you say quietly, thumbing the head ever so slightly and feeling your heart race when it pulses beneath you, "It feels different?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, biting down on his lip for a moment, "That part's sensitive, kinda like your clit."

You nod slowly, pushing your thumb up a bit and slowly rotating it along the sensitive area. He inhales sharply, grunts again when you prod the spongey head with both your thumb and index finger, teasing it like he'd done with your nipple.

"Fuck," he mutters softly, voice heavy and breathless, "That's it, angel, you got it."

His praise is like a warm blanket, shrouding you in safety and comfort as you slowly pump his cock again, teasing the head intermittently and trying not to smile too much every time he makes another one of those breathy grunting sounds. You feel pride swelling in your chest, the knowledge that you're actually making him feel good pushing you to continue on.

"What about these?" you ask softly, stilling your hand on his cock for a moment to gesture toward his balls, round and heavy beneath the base, "Does it....do they feel good when they get touched, too?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice dark and full of arousal, "They do."

"Can I touch them?"

The sound that emits from his throat sounds almost like a growl, low and husky, "Yes," he groans, "Go ahead and touch 'em, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice is slightly desperate, bordering on depraved. Your eyes travel back up to his face and his jaw is slack, eyes hooded as he watches you touch him. You've never seen him like this, almost completely wrecked by something you did.

"Gotta be real gentle," he continues, taking a breath through his nostrils and reaching down to pull his pajama pants down a bit more for easier access, "They're sensitive too."

You resume your slow pumping of his cock with one hand while your other reaches down to lightly trail the tips of your fingers along the shape of his balls, round and tender. You cup them gently, teasing them one by one in your palm. He hisses in pleasure, eyes shutting tightly as he leans back a bit against the headboard.

"Feel good?" you whisper, trying your best to fall into the role Joel usually takes on, the role of the person giving the pleasure.

"Yes, baby," he groans, pressing the backs of his hands against his shut eyes, "Yes, feels so good, sweetheart."

Your pumping gets a bit faster, a bit wetter as precum continues to drool from the tip and down his shaft. It's unbelievable that you're really sitting here in a man's bed, a man about thirty years older than you, pumping his cock and making him come apart like this. You can feel yourself throbbing beneath the blankets, getting wet all over again at the reality of the situation, and when your movements cause the blankets to fall from your chest and expose your breasts again, you don't bother trying to cover up.

Joel groans at the sight, reaching over to tweak one of your nipples between his fingers, making you whimper, "You know what happens when a man comes?" he asks you suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure, "You learn about that in school?"

You nod quickly, feeling sweat trickle down your face as you continue to stroke him up and down, "Yes," you whisper, "I know what happens."

He groans again, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath as he begins to palm your breasts, "I'm about to come, darlin'. There's gonna be a lot, need to know where to aim it."

You bite down on your lip, trying to keep all your focus on making him feel good and not on the hands now squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples. "Wh-where do you want it to go?" But you already know the answer.

"Here," he grunts, thumbing your hard nipples, "These. Wanna come all over these pretty tits, sweetheart, will you let me?"

You nod, "Y-yes, Mr. Miller."

It's everything he needs to suddenly pull himself up from the bed and pull your hands off him, gesturing for you to lie back against his pillows. Your heart races in anticipation, eyes going wide and lips parting again as he leans over you and starts to jack his cock, fast and unrelenting. This is what he'd done the other night, when you'd talked on the phone; you'd tried to imagine what he'd looked like, making his own mess... now you're about to find out.

"Stay just like that, babygirl, just like that," he grunts out, pumping himself over and over as he aims the tip toward your bare breasts, swollen from all the attention he's given them tonight. His expression is tense and so is his body, soft stomach suddenly taut with pressure, chest heaving as he works his hand. He looks almost pained, brows scrunched together as he pulls himself over the edge.

"Come," you find yourself saying quietly, a shaky whimper playing at the edge of your voice, "Come for me."

Within seconds of your words your skin is hit with long ropes of a warm, white liquid, splattering across your breasts in uneven patterns. You watch with hooded eyes as Joel slows his strokes, groans louder than he has all night as his release spurts continuously from the head of his cock, painting you all over. His tense expression eases into one of pure bliss as he tosses his head back again, moaning up at the ceiling.

Wow.

Without asking for permission, without even questioning whether it's proper sex etiquette to do so, you find your hand travelling quickly downward to your wet pussy. You frantically begin to rub your clit, still gazing up at Joel's pleasured form, feeling his come slipping down the sides of your breasts onto the sheets below. You throb and pulse beneath your fingers, whining softly to yourself as your body readies itself for your second orgasm.

Joel looks down at you then, cock still in hand, slowly beginning to soften. He sees what you're doing immediately, and the devilish smirk that crosses his face is enough to send you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck," you moan out as you come, trembling in the sheets and curling your toes in pleasure, "Mmmm," you squirm and writhe beneath his gaze until it's over, then lay still and loose on the bed with barely any thoughts floating through your mind.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to collect yourselves. You can't help but look down at your chest, see the thick patches of come splattered all over your breasts, your nipples. How all of that could come from one person is wild to you; this certainly hadn't been taught in any of your health classes.

The memory of being so naïve, so innocent... it makes you grin. Because you couldn't be further from that person anymore, the one who did everything that was asked of her, never listened to her own heart, stayed on the sidelines and focused on math and extracurriculars and God while other people had these experiences. And now here you are - actually having them.

"I guess I'm not a good little Christian girl anymore," you find yourself saying with a shaky giggle; you suddenly feel reinvigorated, sexually liberated... free.

Joel laughs at that, breathless and genuine. He grins down at you, releases his cock and shuffles downward to lay beside you, "You're my good little Christian girl," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cradle your face, "You did so good."

"Did I?" you ask sincerely, "Be honest, I wanna know."

He just smiles and thumbs your cheek, eyes going crinkly, "You were perfect, babygirl, I swear." He leans forward and kisses you gently, sweetly, like you both didn't just do something completely filthy and depraved - but you're starting to realize that maybe it's normal to do things like this, not as taboo and sinful as you'd always thought.

When you part, you're suddenly painfully aware of the state of the bed, not to mention both of your bodies. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat, you've got come dripping down your skin, and both fluids are already beginning to stain the bedsheets. You make a face.

"Can we...can we change the sheets? And can I maybe take a shower?"

Joel chuckles at that, stroking your cheek one last time before pulling back to extricate himself from the bed, "I'll change 'em, sweetheart. You go get in the shower, it's right across the hall."

You slip out of bed on shaky legs, losing your balance a bit and having to grab on to Joel's bed side table for support. You both laugh, and you find comfort in the casual intimacy of it all - both of you standing there naked without any shame or embarrassment. It's strange and new but so refreshing, that familiar safe feeling warming your skin as you make your way to the bathroom. You pick up your discarded nightdress as you go.

You stare at yourself in Joel's bathroom mirror for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide as they trail up and down your bare form. Splotches cover different parts of your skin, especially your breasts, nipples swollen and dark, not to mention covered in come. You feel an ache between your legs again at the sight and almost roll your eyes at yourself - when will you stop being this insatiable?

Unable to push down the urge to do so, you carefully drag one of your fingers through the layer of white splattered across your chest, fascinated by its sticky texture. He'd marked you, in more ways than one.

The shower is pleasant and relatively quick; you want to get back in Joel's arms as soon as possible. You try not to think too much about the implication of that desire, the safety you feel when you're with him versus the anxiety you feel when you're not and what exactly that means. You try to remind yourself of your roommates and their experiences, their ability to sleep around without catching feelings or getting attached. How do they do it? How do they do it when being close to another person like this is so intimate and special?

You change back into the nightdress after your shower and slip back into Joel's room, finding him laying in the freshly made bed beneath a new duvet. For a moment you think he might be sleeping, quietly shutting the door behind you and tiptoeing over to the bed. However when you get close enough he opens his eyes and looks at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there," he murmurs, reaching down to pull back the blankets on the other side - your side, "Get on in."

Your heart pounds harder than it probably should.

Climbing into bed beside Joel feels surprisingly normal, easy. You wriggle underneath the duvet and cuddle in beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his solid form and nuzzling your head against his shoulder. He's wearing his pajama pants again but his torso is still bare, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. You feel him press a soft kiss to your hairline and you can't help but smile.

"I'm glad I came over," you whisper with a content sigh, "I was... I was starting to worry you didn't want me."

"Really?" he asks softly, brow furrowing, "Why's that?"

You shake your head and nuzzle in deeper, "Just me being self conscious and insecure, as usual."

His hand comes up to rub your back soothingly, circling it with his palm through your thin nightdress. He pulls you in a bit closer, kisses your forehead again with a bit more firmness.

"It's normal to feel that way," he murmurs against your skin, "But I do want you, babygirl. You're all I think about lately, I mean that." You shiver at his words, closing your eyes and willing yourself to believe that he really does mean them like he says. "Most beautiful little thing I've had in my bed for a long time."

You press a gentle kiss to his collarbone in response, nose trailing along the skin. He didn't shower but you're sort of glad he didn't; he still smells like sex, a deep masculine musk that you can only attribute to him now, a scent that makes you feel safe.

"I just feel bad...making us sneak around and all that," you admit, "I know it's childish and silly, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. I shouldn't be but I am."

"You're young," he says softly, tenderly, "That kinda stuff still matters, especially when you're livin' with them. I get it, honey. You don't have to defend yourself."

You grimace against his skin, "I just wish this could be more normal. That you could just be a guy I'm seeing instead of my guitar teacher," you shake your head, "It's not fair."

He pulls you in even closer with a soft chuckle, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm lookin' forward to teachin' you how to play."

You make a face, "Hymns," you say with a roll of your eyes, "You're teaching me how to play hymns. I don't see anything exciting or sexy about that."

"We'll make it sexy," he murmurs, inching his face downward so it's more level with yours, eyes casting down to your lips, "Thought you were my good little Christian girl."

All thoughts suddenly seem arbitrary when he's looking at you like that, your gaze immediately going hazy as he leans in and kisses you deep, pushes his tongue inside your mouth softly and tastes you. You hum against his mouth as a response, thighs tightening together as if on instinct the second you feel yourself begin to throb again.

"Are you?" he asks huskily when he pulls away, eyes dark but tired, "Are you my good little Christian girl, baby?"

You nod, swallowing down your arousal, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

"You gonna let me touch you while I teach you guitar?"

You nod again, biting back a whimper, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

His eyes dart back down to your lips, hand on your back traveling downward to cup your bare ass beneath the nightdress, "You gonna let me fuck that soft little pussy while you play one of your hymns?"

"Yes, Mr. Miller," you repeat, leaning forward to bury your face in his warm skin and inhale him again, moan softly against the hair on his chest, "Yes."

He squeezes your ass for a moment and then brings his hand back up, pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you tightly, "See, babygirl?" he whispers, "Told you we'll make it sexy."

Joel's alarm wakes you around six, rousing you from one of the best sleeps of your life. You open your eyes groggily, feeling him lean over you in bed to turn it off, warm chest brushing your arm. You roll over in bed and cuddle into him again, humming sleepily to yourself when he pulls you in close.

"I gotta get ready for work," he murmurs gently into your hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time to go."

You frown sleepily but don't have the energy to protest, eyes closing again as you melt back into his pillow. You feel him release you from his embrace and press a kiss to your forehead, a simple reminder that this isn't some dream you're having, it's somehow reality. You smile and fall asleep again within seconds.

He wakes you up again after about half an hour, seats himself on the edge of his bed and strokes your hair. You peer up at him with a sleepy and satisfied expression, unable to stop the words that fall immediately from your lips:

"Kiss me."

He doesn't need convincing, still thumbing your hair behind your ear as he leans down and kisses you softly, bumps your nose against his and lets your tongue lazily explore his mouth, tasting mouthwash. You sigh contentedly, pulling back to smile at him while he strokes your cheek.

"Sleep good?" he asks you softly.

You nod, remembering the closeness the two of you had shared all night, the soft hugs and tender cuddles, the quiet intimacy you've never experienced with anyone else. "Amazing," you whisper.

He kisses you again before you get out of bed, then takes your hand as he leads you downstairs. You grab your jacket on the way out of his bedroom, still hanging on the back of his door. You look down at yourself as you both reach the top of the stairs, realizing there's no way you'll be able to walk home in an outfit like this without certainly being accosted by a nosy neighbor.

You push down your worry when you reach the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face when you see that the kitchen table is set with breakfast; scrambled eggs and bacon.

"You made me breakfast?" you ask in awe, looking from the food to Joel and back again.

He laughs, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, "I did," he says with a smile, "And as much as I'd love for us to just sit and enjoy it," he looks down at his watch with a grimace as he takes a sip of coffee, "we have about ten minutes before I gotta drive you home and then get to work."

You sit down at the table, picking up your fork and immediately digging into the eggs, "You're gonna drive me home?"

He seats himself across from you, watching you enjoy what he'd cooked with a fond smile, "Can't have you walkin' home in that tiny little thing, can I?" he says teasingly, "Your parents would wring my neck."

You groan, "Oh god, please don't even joke about that. If they knew..."

He just chuckles and starts to eat, looking up every now and then to give you one of those crinkly-eyed crooked smiles that makes you weak. You smile through mouthfuls of food and feel your skin alight every time you feel his gaze on you.

"I don't usually eat this fast, I promise," you say through a mouthful of bacon, covering your mouth, "It's only 'cause we're on a time crunch."

He shakes his head, still smiling, "You're so damn cute."

You try your hardest not to reach across the table and pull him toward you for a kiss.

The drive from his house to yours is extremely short, no less than two minutes. Still, you enjoy the short time you spend in his truck, his big hand spread out on your bare thigh while he hums along to a tune on the radio and gives you soft little sideways glances that makes your heart flutter. You can't help but feel like someone else when you're with him, someone more carefree and outgoing, happier and more experienced. It's only when you slowly near your house that you realize maybe this person is who you really are.

"Stop here," you tell Joel with a grimace, still a few houses away, "My parents are still home."

"How're you gonna get in?" he asks with an edge of concern to his voice, eyeing your house, "Think you can climb the fence?"

You bite your lip, "Probably. I've never done it before but I don't have much choice," you lean your head against the backrest in irritation, "God, why did I choose now to rebel? I coulda learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid if I hadn't been so obsessed with being perfect."

He gives you a sympathetic look, thumb stroking your thigh reassuringly, "I'll stay right here 'til you're inside."

You yearn to lean over the small space between you and kiss him, but you know there's always a risk of a neighbor coming out of their house and seeing you. Instead, you place your hand atop the one on your thigh and squeeze his fingers gently, giving him a small smile.

"I had a really nice night," you say quietly, unsure how exactly this kind of thing is done, "And morning."

"So did I, sweetheart," he replies, voice tender, "We'll do it again, promise."

With one final squeeze of his hand you slip out of his truck, tying your jacket around your waist to cover up your legs a bit. It leaves your upper half more exposed than you'd like, your eyes going wide when you realize how much cleavage this nightdress really shows.

"Here," Joel says, understanding your reaction immediately, "Wear this on top." Without giving you any time to protest he's unbuckling himself to undo his plaid button down, shirking it off his shoulders and handing it to you. It leaves him in a t-shirt and jeans, your eyes trailing to his strong arms without meaning to, the arms that had held you close all night.

"Thank you," you murmur, brow furrowing a bit, "You're sure?"

He smiles crookedly and buckles up again, "I'm sure, angel. You keep that."

Your heart flutters as you wrap his shirt around you, slipping your arms into the much too long sleeves and inhaling the scent of him - your new favorite smell - surrounding you. You're never getting rid of this. Ever.

With a wave you hurry down the sidewalk, feeling slightly ridiculous in your layered and baggy outfit but relieved that you're covered up. You eye the tall white fence of your backyard, trying to formulate a plan in your head as you go. Hop the fence, get a ladder from the tool shed and climb up to your bedroom? But did you even leave your window open? You can't help but feel rage in your chest for your parents rules, the curfew, all the nonsense you've been living with for your entire life. Why the fuck don't you have a fucking key to your own fucking house?

You can feel Joel's eyes on you when you reach the fence, still sitting in his truck a few houses down.

Please, God, you think to yourself as you slip one of your sneakers in between the fence posts and yank yourself up, I know I've sinned. I know I'm a mess. And I'm not even sure I really believe in you anymore. But please, if you're there, don't let me make a fool of myself in front of Joel Miller.

Surprisingly, your prayer seems to work. Climbing up the fence is relatively easy; you keep an eye out for your neighbors as you quickly pull yourself over and flop down on the other side, extremely grateful that neither your jacket nor Joel's shirt gets caught on anything. You hurry to the tool shed, eyeing your bedroom window as you go and feeling beyond relieved when you see that it's wide open; God bless Texan summers.

You decide to wait inside the tool shed until your parents are gone, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself with the ladder. You close the door behind you and sink to the concrete floor, heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you've just done overwhelms you.

You snuck out to see a man. You slept in his bed. He drove you home so you could sneak back in.

Quiet laughter fills the tool shed, all coming from your own mouth. You grin to yourself and shake your head in the darkness, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes. Who are you? Who is this new person you've become? You don't know, but you love her.

You find yourself pulling your phone out of your jacket pocket and typing out a new message, but this time it's not to Joel - it's to your friends from college:

i think i'm officially a bad girl.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

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natriae · 5 months

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Ushi gushi who u dated thru highschool and 2nd year college and he is getting hornier but all u guys have done so far is make out and hand job/fingering till u ask if he wants to go further and BOY does he and u see a side of him u never imagine 😍

HEHEH KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING RN

Ushijima Wakatoshi is no doubt the best boyfriend ever. He spoils you and always makes time for you. He would drop everything to go see you, but he's still wakatoshi. He has a hard time with social cues and displaying his emotions. You like to call yourself the 'Toshi master. Usually able to understand his affection and thoughts without him showing it.

He's remained the same since highschool. He stuck to the same routine with little differences in the past years. He'd wake up do his morning run, then go to class, practice, then shower and do his homework, and finally cuddle you to sleep in his dorm. Saturdays were specifically reserved for you. He tried to leave his comfort zone by taking you on dates, but you knew he perfered to stay in. You did too, so it was no issue for you to spend every Saturday with Wakatoshi at your house back in highschool. He found comfort getting groceries with you and helping you clean. He found comfort in really anything that took his mind off his family.

There was a lot of feelings that Wakatoshi missed out, but with therapy and you supporting him along the way he got better at understand what he was feeling. Being away from his mother definitely helped as well.

Even with all his amazing qualities there were sometimes you felt insecure in your relationship. Going to college was a much different territory for both of you. Students from all around Japan went to school with you guys. At Shiratorizawa no one really talked to 'Jima because they were scared of him but here you can't remember a game where some girl wasn't flirting with him. Or even listening to how far your friends have gotten with their boyfriends. It's not that you want to force 'toshi out of his comfort zone, but sometimes you think he doesn't like you..like that. Almost like it's out of obligation.

After date night he asks if you want it instead of getting in the mood. Almost like it's apart of his routine. You guys eat, come home, he kisses you a bit and fingers you till you cum, and then he washes his hands and kisses you goodnight. You want him to do it for his own pleasure.

"everything okay?" He asks once he finishes washing the dishes. He walks over to the small couch you sat on while in deep thought.

Looking up at him you smile at his cute face. Bring your arms up signaling you want a hug. Lifting you up he places you on his lap as he sits down. You legs draped over his as your wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his chest. "I guess, I've just been thinking...'Jima you find me attractive, right?" Looking up you watch as he nods his head. His eyes srunching a little in thought. Your hand resting on his chest feels his heart begin to beat a little bit faster. " um, remember when Tendou had-um- remember in highschool when tendou was quite aroused and everyone made fun of him?"

"his boner?" Ushijima states unbothered.

Your face reddens at his outburst and you nod your head. "well why don't- you dont seem to get that when your with me, and I was worried that you dont feel that way about me, and I don't want you to be doing anything you find uncomfortable if you dont feel that way about me." While you ramble you start to feel a small poking at the side of your right butt cheek. "'Jima?"

His faces flushes a bit and his heart beats after as he brings his lips into his mouth. "I do feel that way about you." He says, not looking into your eyes.

Bringing your hand up to his cheek you move his head so the two of you can look at each other. "why don't you ever show it?" you pout.

"i don't want to make you uncomfortable." He tells you, face remaining unmoving. You watch as his pupils expand looking into your eyes. "Meditating usually helps it go away." He tells you like it was a serious issue. You giggle and move into kiss his lips.

"Do you still have those condoms Tendou gave you?"

His single nod is all you need to tell you that tonight you won't have to worry about Wakatoshi's attraction towards you.

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archangeldyke-all · 13 days

Note

Reader using the power of seduction to get her way? She wants pick the show they watch tonight but Sevika fights her on it? Sloppy head.

She wants to get Sevika out the house to come run errands with her on a busy Sunday morning? Sloppy Top.

She wants Sevika to do the dishes? Reader is shoving her hands down her wife’s pants.

😌🤗🙏🏽

i love this so muchhh

men and minors dni

sevika's whipped for you. she's past the point of even trying to deny it. she's not really sure what happened to her, or when her womanizing ways were traded in for a singular obsession with you-- but it's where she finds herself now.

she wouldn't trade it for the world.

that doesn't mean it's not a little embarassing for sevika how quickly she folds for you.

like a week ago. she'd had plans she'd been looking forward to all fucking week to go on a bar crawl with a few of the crew members. and then she'd gotten home, and you'd pouted when she told you her plans.

"sorry baby, the boys are already waiting for me at the last drop." she grunted as you wrapped your arms around her.

"do you have to go?" you whined, kissing against her neck. "i've got a bubble bath drawn up. you could join me, spend the night in, split a nice bottle of wine..." you trailed off, sucking a hickey into her neck.

she didn't smack your hands away when they began unbuttoning her top. and she wasn't surprised in the slightest to find herself texting the groupchat that she couldn't make it. after all, you're way more fun than her friends.

that wasn't the most embarrassing time you've seduced her into your plans, though. not even close.

just three days ago, she'd been heading out to go to the gym.

"bye babe!" she called over her shoulder.

you stuck your head out of the bathroom. "where're you goin'?" you asked, a little whine in your voice. she froze, her hand hovering above the handle.

"the gym, why?"

you pouted. "oh, damn."

"what?"

"no, don't worry, go have fun." you promied her, waving it off.

sevika wasn't satisfied, though. "what?" she asked again. you just shrugged.

"wanted to watch that movie with you." you pouted. "thought we could have a movie night tonight since it's raining."

sevika tried to stay strong, she really did, but then you walked out of the bathroom wearing the shortest pajama shorts you own.

they shouldn't even count as shorts-- they're more like panties.

her grip on the handle tightened so hard she was certain she crushed it-- and all the thoughts of her work-out flew out of her mind. she gulped.

"'s long as you let me fuck you when i get bored." she mumbled as she started walking toward the couch. you just giggled and sat down on her lap, kissing her cheek.

"'s long as you face me toward the tv." you shrugged.

and now, sevika's sure she's reached a new low.

you've got her in the crawlspace under your porch, a flashlight in one hand and a shoe box in the other. why? because you 'think you heard a crying animal.'

sevika wanted you to leave it and let it die. "i'll scoop it out if it starts stinking, but we should just let nature do it's thing, babe."

"sevika!" you gasped. "that's horrible!"

she wasn't going to budge. not a bit. not when you pouted, not when you started throwing crumbs through the slats of your porch to feed the pathetic little creature, not even when you tried crawling under yourself.

but then, you'd cornered her inside your house, your tits on full display in one of your lowest cut tops. sevika knew she'd be under the porch before you could even start talking.

"sevika?" you asked sweetly, blinking your eyelashes up at her. she gulped, tried to pry her eyes away from your cleavage. "baby, please can you go under and see what's going on? i promise, once we get it out, whatever it is, we'll give it some food and water and put it in a bush back where it belongs. i just think it's stuck on something, and it's crying so much i can't ignore the poor thi--"

"you're fucking evil, you know." she cut you off. you had to bite back a smirk.

"what do you mean?" you asked

"you think i don't know you're trying to trick me right now babe?" she asked, pointing at your tits. "you think i didn't notice your sudden wardrobe change?"

you pouted. "so is that a no?"

"fuck! i'll fuckin' save the fuckin' animal, for fuck's sake, are you happy?" she asked, stroming to the utility closet to get her supplies.

you just giggled and followed after her, kissing her cheek. "and once you're done, you're gonna ride my face as a reward." you whispered against her cheek.

and now she's covered in mud, rescuing a fucking mouse from where it's been trapped in a sewer pipe. you're watching from the opening, holding a flashlight over her shoulder to help her light the way.

"you did it!" you squeal, jumping up and down. sevika grunts, turning on her belly to start crawling out. she's not gentle with the shoebox as she shoves it out from under the porch, but the fucking rat will be fine. you help her stand when she reaches the opening, and then pull her down for a long, slobbery kiss. all of her complaints and anger melts the second you do. "thank you, baby. really." you whipser.

sevika huffs. "i'm gonna go shower. you're gonna give the fuckin' rat a grape and set it free. then, i'm gettin' my reward." she smacks your ass, then turns to run in the house.

you giggle and call after her. "sounds good babe, i'll meet you in the bedroom. you want me to keep the slutty shirt on or...?"

sevika freezes on the porch, considers her options, then turns around to look at your tits in the nearly-transparent white shirt, and all the mud on her body is worth it for that view. she grins. "keep it on."

you giggle, nod, and blow her a kiss.

yeah, she thinks as she stumbles inside, stripping her muddy clothes off. she doesn't mind being whipped for you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x you #sevika x reader #soft sevika

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coco-loco-nut · 14 days

Text

Forza Red Bull

Pairing: Max x Best Friend Reader

Summary: You have a big decision to make, stick with Red Bull or move to Ferrari

A/n: changing when the driver's press conference is for the plot. Thanks for the request!! I loved writing this

requests open masterlist

_________

It is getting increasingly harder to hide your trips to the Ferrari motorhome, where you are negotiating a potential contract. Fred has been talking with you the latter half of the season, just waiting on a phone call from you, one that you are reluctant to take despite it being an offer you can't otherwise refuse. Your contract ends after this season and Red Bull is waiting until after the season to offer you a new contract, despite them knowing your requests.

Carlos is leaving the team, having gotten a better seat elsewhere. Most F1 fans believe Ferrari will be signing Ollie Bearman or Arthur Leclerc.

"Y/n, it's a beautiful day for racing," Max wraps his arm around you, fresh from a workout. The hot Abu Dhabi air doesn't help the sweat.

"Ew, Max, get off of me, you smell," you gag for the added effect.

"I'm wounded, my own teammate and best friend?" Max places his hand over his heart.

"Go shower than we can talk. I stopped dealing with sweaty Max after karting," you shove him off of you. Max rolls his eyes, heading to shower while you beeline for coffee.

Your heart hurts while greeting the staff you have grown to love since you joined the team in 2021. Hannah sits down beside you.

"How are you feeling today?" she asks, handing you a pastry.

"Good, I think I have a shot at winning today, hopefully with your brilliant strategy I will," you smile hopefully, one that drops as you see her cringe a little.

"About that, Christian wants you to defend," Hannah tells you, you can feel the anger building. You have been so close to beating Max last year and the championship is just within your grasp, you need this win. You should've known better, you were brought onto the team for your ability to defend.

"Hannah, please," your eyes beg her to give you the better strategy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," she whispers, the one person on pit wall you thought that was on your side other than your race engineer. You swallow your pride and nod, looking away.

"Understood, I'll defend," you say after a second.

"You are a wonderful teammate and driver, Max is lucky to have you," her comforting words fall flat. Max. Your best friend and fiercest competition.

"I have to go to the press conference," you say, standing up and walking away.

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Pierre asks, you two weren't close, but you were a part of a group chat for drivers who are traumatized by Red Bull, one that you had often joked that you don't belong in. Now you know why Daniel added you.

"Red Bull," you huff angrily.

"I'm sorry," Pierre doesn't know why he's apologizing, but he can certainly empathize with you. The two of you walk to the conference together. You weren't close with Pierre, but you aren't enemies either.

You receive the first question of the conference.

"Y/n, you've been strong in free practice and qualifying. How are you feeling going into today, knowing that these are crucial points in your battle with your teammate, Max? Especially since you were in this position last year," the interviewer asks.

"Wow, starting off strong. Um, yeah, the car has felt great all weekend, I feel great going into today. It's always so much fun to race with Max, something I've had the privilege to do since we were karting together. Max got the win last year, so I hope I can secure it for myself this year," You say, hoping that satisfies the question. It does, at least until the journalists.

"How is Red Bull handling the driver situation, seeing that you and Max are both fighting for a championship," the journalist asks.

"Obviously the team wants us both to succeed, they will have a winner either way. I'm really glad to be with a team that supports both of us that way," you lie through your teeth, knowing that Christian wants Max to win. There is a reason that the Red Bull PR team loves you doing press conferences. You can feel Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel looking at you, knowing that you are likely lying, they just aren't sure which part.

"Good luck today, Y/n, if someone is going to beat me, I want it to be my best friend. If it isn't this year, I know you will take next year's Red Bull to the top," Max hugs you. Your anger dissolves for a moment, you aren't mad at him. He makes a great point, you already have a great relationship with Red Bull, you love it here, even if Christian makes you mad sometimes. Ferrari is, well, Ferrari. The car isn't as good and the strategy is lacking. You are smart, you know Red Bull is the better team, and Christian can't ignore your ability after this season.

"Thank you, Maxie. I hope you lose," he can't help but to laugh with you. You go into your driver's room to text your agent, letting them know which team you chose.

"Y/n, are you sure?" She asks over the phone, calling you immediately.

"I am," your agent agrees to let both teams know, only asking you to call her after the race.

You get ahead later in the race, wheel to wheel with Max as you battle for P1. You know Red Bull isn't going to show their hand that they want Max to win yet.

Y/n, let Max overtake

The instructions flow through your earpiece, you push harder.

No. Max can take the win from my cold dead hands. That's a team order, Y/n I don't give a shit. Tell Christrian and Hannah to fuck off.

Max is a bit confused why you aren't letting him pass, GP told him he was getting the overtake, but he respects you wanting to fight. You ignore your engineer trying to get you to follow team directions.

Y/n, I'm saying this as your friend, your race engineer for the past 3 years. Max has the faster pace, you have to let him pass before you end up in a crash

You hold back the tears in your eyes, as you watch Max slide in front of you, taking P1.

It's not fair. I know, keep fighting. We will get it next season. I will hold you to that. Red Bull owes me that much.

You keep your helmet on after the race, not letting the cameras see you cry. Max immediately finds you after weigh-ins.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that," Max says, pulling you into a hug.

"I knew. Hannah told me this morning," you do your best not to take your anger out on him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've fought for you, you're my best friend," Max asks, confused.

"I didn't want you to throw your race for me,"

"This isn't happening next year, I will make Christian understand that. You fought so hard for the win, you deserved it," Max tells you and you nod.

"I know, I'm negotiating it into my contract. I have to go pee and make it look like I wasn't crying. I'll see you in a minute," you tell Max, purposefully being ambiguous like you have the past couple months, going into the private bathroom to make the quick call, getting your phone from your assistant.

"You have the green light to announce your contract," she says before you hang up. You subtly give your phone back and head to the podium.

"That was one hell of a fight, is Red Bull mad at you for ignoring team orders, even though you did give up the spot?" You are asked after the podium by Sky Sports.

"Probably, not that it matters much now since it was the last race of the season," you shrug.

"You have yet to announce your contract renewal with Red Bull, will you be negotiating the team orders part?" Another asks.

"Yeah, I will be making sure any future contracts don't allow something like today to happen again. Red Bull has been waiting because of my salary increase. Which is why I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari next season," you say, dropping the bomb. You had been tempted to say Forza Ferrari over the team radio. Max looks at you in disbelief and hurt. You don't comment after that, electing to leave the room and go back to your driver's room. Charles nods supportively at you, having been informed already about his new teammate.

"Y/n, open the door," you hear Max's voice on the other side a few minutes after you change.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I made the decision minutes before the race," your voice cracks a little.

"How long have you been talking to them?"

"Since after summer break,"

"Damn it! Why didn't you tell me, I could've helped you," Max looks utterly broken.

"Because you needed to focus on your racing. Even if I stayed things would be good for a few races then they would go back to how they are now. Red Bull will always choose you. I'm not mad at you for it, please know that," you plead a little as Max pulls away from you.

"You knew you were changing teams for half of the season and didn't tell me. You are going to our rival. You are supposed to be my best friend,"

"I am your best friend, Maxie, I wasn't allowed to say anything,"

"Don't call me that, I can't be friends with someone who doesn't trust me," Max gets up and leaves.

"Max! Max, please come back," you cry, a hole in your heart. You leave the paddock discreetly and go back to your hotel room. Usually, you'd be celebrating with Max, but now you don't know what to do. There is a knock on your door, you hope it's Max,

Daniel, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos, and Alex stand at your door with wine, a cake that reads 'Fuck Red Bull' and another that reads 'The real WDC winner'.

"Max is a dickhead," Daniel offers as you let them into your room. Despite Daniel's good relationship with Christian, he knows right from wrong.

"Thanks, guys," you say, happy to celebrate with them.

"Sorry, Y/n, you deserved the win. I'm glad you are taking my seat at Ferrari," Carlos says, patting your shoulder.

"Let's get drunk, eat cake, then go to the club," Pierre suggests, a plan that you all quickly agree to. Yuki and Alex show you the massive support you are receiving online and the backlash Red Bull is getting. It is comforting, you just wish your best friend was here.

Twitter has a field day with the squad you roll up to the bars with, but they all ask the same question, where's Max. It takes until testing for you to comment on it.

"You shocked the world after announcing a move to Ferrari not long after being forced to lose the world championship. Any harsh feelings towards Max Verstappen following last year's drama?" you are asked right away.

"None. Other drivers might be mad or take it out on the track, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his call, it was Red Bulls. Obviously, it sucks to lose someone who was your best friend, but everything happens for a reason. I can't wait to drive equally with my teammate and have the Tifosi support," you say, catching Max watching you out of the corner of your eye. He is obviously still upset. You ignore him, he can find you when he is ready to apologize.

"If she had told me what she was planning on doing, maybe we would be friends still, but I can't be friends with people who lie to me and are traitors," Max says when asked for his opinion. Max only apologized after you won the season with Ferrari, you think it was because Charles and Daniel forced him to. You are just happy to have your friend back.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 grid #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 month

Text

♥︎ ₵₳₦ĐɎ ♥︎

♥︎ Pairing: lead singer!boyfriend!yuta x chubby!fem!bassist reader (you get mark & johnny as bandmates too so that's fun)

♥︎ Genre: rockstar au/fluff/angst/smut

♥︎ Summary: Joining your favorite band was a dream come true. That is until you fell for the lead singer who has no shortage of groupies throwing themselves at him. He says he loves you but can you really trust him? I mean, you used to be a groupie too after all.

♥︎ Word Count: 4.1k-ish

♥︎ Warnings: Strong language. If you don't like curse words I'm sorry babes. I'm a potty mouth. Unprotected sex, creampie, shower sex, rough sex, a lil choking, nibbling, scratching, fingering, marking, oral sex (f receiving), tattoos/piercings, pet names (daddy, baby, etc), a lil drop of mutual possessiveness.

♥︎ A/N: I've really been trying to have more fun with my fics and just let my brain do it's thing so I hope y'all have fun with it too, darlings.

“Yuta, I fucking love you!” an obnoxiously tipsy female voice screams from the crowd.

A bra comes soaring from the sea of bodies packed into the pit at the edge of the stage. The pink lace fabric lands at Yuta’s feet, draping itself across his scuffed black combat boots. Any band knows that when you stop the show to do something — tune your guitar, take a sip of water — it’s prime opportunity for anything to happen. And it almost always will.

It’s not like you can blame her. Once upon a time you’d been one of those girls in the crowd, lost in the chaos of the night. There’s nothing like it, the rush that you get when your heart seems to sync with the violent bashing of the drums. The distorted guitars like electric coursing through your veins. Every lyric floats through the air, becoming more and more a part of you with each breath you take in.

Then there was him…

Nakamoto Yuta. When your friends were all drooling over him you’d pretend you weren't interested. You’d never be so basic as to fall for the lead singer of the band. Maybe he did have the sort of voice that makes a girl melt even when he’s growling the filthiest lyrics. Especially when there’s growling. And maybe he did have bone structure to die for.

Then there were the tattoos, piercings, and the way sweat glistened on his chest halfway through a show. You weren’t won over by any of that. It was all about the music, one artist appreciating another. So when Yuta’s bassist quit the band and your manager broke the news that she’d gotten you an audition your intentions were purely artistic.

In this industry, a girl’s gotta work twice as hard as the guys to prove she can do half of what they can. You worked your ass off session after session, easily demolishing any other bassist their label could’ve suggested. You earned your spot in the band ten times over. Made sure no one could question why you were there. Then and only then did you let Yuta fuck your brains out.

Before shows, after shows. Tour buses. Hotels. Airport bathrooms. Green rooms. Whenever. Wherever. However. In the studio and onstage it was still about the music but everything else? All of it was driven by how much you lusted for and, much to your dismay, loved one another.

Recalling the heavenly experience it is to be bent over a bathroom sink with Yuta so deep inside of you that you feel it in the back of your throat, you can’t really blame Ms. Pink Lace for tossing her bra at him.

Kneeling down to pick up the bra, Yuta takes a look back at you. The most innocent face in the world, his baby angel, geared up and ready to commit murder.

You can’t really blame her but—

Fuck it. You do.

“I think she wants to come backstage after the show!” a guy shouts from the other side of the stage, garnering laughter from the crowd. Yuta smiles as he approaches the mic stand, the bra dangling from his fingers by the strap. “I think she wants my girl to kick my ass,” Yuta laughs, pushing his messy hair back out of his face.

“Kick his ass” Johnny whispers into his mic from the safety of his drum kit. Nearly spitting out the sip of water you’ve just taken, you toss the rest back at Johnny. The years of experience he has over you come in handy as he expertly dodges it.

“Boo, she doesn’t like to share!” Ms. Pink Lace shouts, not quite ready to back down.

Yuta steps aside and turns to you once more, “You wanna come answer this?” You unplug your bass and stroll to Yuta’s side with the sweetest smile on your face. “Do I share him?” you ask as if it’s the dumbest question you’ve ever heard in your life. It is. You lay your hand flat on his chest, running it all the way down to the waist of his pants. Looping a finger around his belt, you pull him closer and into a kiss deep enough to make you both forget you’re on stage.

When you finally break away, you borrow his mic for a quick announcement. “Our next song is called ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’!” Taking the bra from Yuta, you put it on over your dress. Ever the supportive boyfriend, he clasps it in the back for you and plants another kiss on your lips before you skip back to your spot.

“Well, then…” Yuta sings, “This is ‘In Your Fucking Dreams’” Mark laughs, strumming his guitar to warm up, “In your fucking dreams, parenthesis, thanks for the new bra.” The crowd cheers, basking in the chaos of it all. You plug your bass back up, ready to shred hard enough that your fingers bleed. You’re pissed, all of the boys know it, but the show must go on.

There’s no crying in punk rock.

“Are you crying?” Mark asks, spotting you amongst the legions staff shuffling around the halls backstage. “No” you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “The lights were just hot and—” He grabs you by the arm, turning you to face him. “You’re a shitty liar. You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

Overhearing the conversation as he passes, Johnny doubles back. “Are you—” Johnny starts but figures it out before he has to speak another word, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re upset about that bra thing.” Feeling cornered, you try to push them aside but they don’t budge an inch. “Look, no. I don’t know. I’m just—fuck just leave me alone okay!” you snap, another wave of tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Yuta finally catches up, his exhaustion turning to concern when he sees you. If you’re upset, even over the tiniest thing, everything stops for him including the urge to pass out after a show. He takes you by the hand, bringing you into his arms. He’s sticky and wet but his embrace is comforting all the same. “Baby,” he says softly, petting your hair, “What’s going on? Talk to me.” With so many eyes on you, you aren’t quite sure how to admit that Johnny’s right.

You are upset about the bra thing. Upset, embarrassed, angry, hurt — every mixture of things — and you can’t make sense of any of it. “Can we just go back to the hotel?” you ask, gathering whatever composure you have left. Yuta hesitates but gives in when he sees your eyes begging “Please”. “Uh, yeah. You guys—” he sighs, looking to the others. Johnny and Mark nod, getting the hint.

Mark pats him on the shoulder before walking ahead, “Got it, bro. We’ll catch you tomorrow.” Johnny hangs back for a second, leaning in to whisper into your ear, “Don’t worry, he’s so whipped for you. It’s, like, super sad.” Johnny’s comment gets a giggle out of you which is all he needed to feel okay walking away.

Yuta leads you back to the green room where he stays glued to you as you wait for the okay from your manager to leave. You’re relieved when you can finally go, the fresh night air soothing the suffocating feeling that’s been terrorizing you for the past hour. The ride back to the hotel is quiet with most of your time spent zoning out in the kaleidoscope of lights cast on you as you pass the local shops.

You can feel Yuta watching you, his hand firmly and lovingly holding yours, but can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Not only are you the only girl in the band, you replaced someone fans already loved. Each night you have to fight for their respect, you knew this already. Now falling for him meant you had to fight for it in more ways than one. The girls will always be there in numbers your brain can’t even fathom, willing to do things that your brain, unfortunately, can fathom in nauseating detail.

“A girlfriend to a rockstar is like a bicycle to a fish. Fucking useless.”

That’s what one of the producers had advised him when you were supposed to be in the booth cluelessly recording your portion of a song. Those words crawled into the pit of your stomach, spreading doubt like a disease ever since.

By the time you’re done spiraling, you’re upstairs seated at the foot of the bed in your hotel room. Contrary to popular belief, your band’s not the type to trash hotel rooms. That’s why you get to book places as beautiful as this with little to no resistance. Everything’s sleek and modern with large three-panel windows that overlook the city. Abstract paintings adorn the walls making it feel more like an art gallery than a place you sleep but the warm overhead lighting saves it from feeling too stuffy.

“Hey, uh, could you shower with me?” Yuta asks, drawing your attention to the bathroom door. It’s only now that you notice the shower running and Yuta standing there in a towel. “I’d shower alone but I have a fear of showers” he adds, “Shower phobia. I’ve had it really bad since I was a kid.” “And Mark says I’m a shitty liar” you tease, flopping back onto the bed.

You can’t see Yuta but you hear him shuffling across the smooth carpeted floor. He stops at your feet, dropping to his knees and laying his head in your lap. Almost on their own, your fingers find a way into his hair and silky strands swirl around them. Yuta breathes in deep, hoping what he says next will soothe you. “You’re enough for me. You know that, right?”

Time seems to freeze and you along with it. Something you love about him, his ability to seemingly always know how you’re feeling, has finally come back to bite you in the ass. Why can’t he just be content pretending nothing happened?

“Yuta, I—” you say, sitting up enough to catch him staring at you the same way he had in the car. Only this time you don’t dodge his gaze, you let it pull you in. The man looking up at you isn’t the one in the magazines or on stage. There’s no act, only him and a heart pledged to you before you'd even known it. “What happened tonight, I’m sorry” he apologizes, “I can do better. I will.”

“What? No!” you gasp, bringing you both up so that you’re eye to eye, “Please don’t apologize. That’s not what I wanted.” Still on his knees, Yuta slips his hands beneath your dress, fingers massaging your plush thighs. Touching you isn’t always sexual. Sometimes he just wants to be connected to you. This is one of those times. Feeling your body warm against his palms eases the anxiety knocking around in his head. Even though you’re upset your body still responds with pleasure to him, giving into his touch. That’s how he knows he hasn’t lost you. The day it doesn’t—well, he tries not to imagine that.

“Do you think I’d cheat on you?” he asks, catching you off guard with his directness. You place a hand on each of his cheeks, squishing them together so his lips purse like the cutest fish you’ve ever seen. Yuta makes little smooching noises and you give him a peck on the lips. “I know you wouldn’t do that” you sigh, relaxing your hold on his cheeks, “But there’s a million girls out there who want you. I’m only one. What if someday you meet a girl and she’s everything you never knew you wanted?”

Yuta says nothing in response, simply staring at you for so long that you want to shake him to see if he’s alive. “There are a million other girls…” he admits, “Which is good for all of the guys I know want you because there’s only one of you and you’re mine.”

“Oh, Yuta, come off it—”

“I’m serious. I don’t give a shit how many girls are out there. You never have to worry about me finding what I never knew I wanted” he promises, gripping your hips to bring you in so tight that your legs are already wrapped around him. His lips brush yours, hitting you with a wicked mixture of chills and hot flashes. “I know who I want,” he whispers, nibbling at your bottom lip, “Who I love. I choose you. No one else. Can you trust that? For me?”

The sincerity in his voice, how it trembles with emotion when he says that he loves you, resonates more than anything he’s ever sung. His hands ease towards your inner thighs and they part for him instantly. The pad of his thumb brushes your clit through your panties and you shudder. “Yes,” you moan between his lips as his mouth captures yours. His kiss is like quicksand, the more you move the faster it drags you in. But there’s nothing to be done about it.

You’re ravenous for each other, your tongues performing an intricate dance that tangles you together. The movement of his thumb against your clit quickens, your hips arching to beg for more. “You love me baby?” he asks, trailing kisses down your chin. Tugging your panties to the side, his fingertips tease the slippery warmth of your entrance. “Yes, I…” you squeak, shivering when his fingers plunge into you, “Love you so much.”

Yuta’s tongue tickles your neck, love bites marking his way to your cleavage. “Tell me I’m yours,” he says, making no attempt to hide how desperate he is to hear you say it. Your walls clench around his fingers. He flexes them in response, the stretch so satisfying that your eyes nearly roll back. “I want you to own it so say it” he urges, pushing in deeper, “Tell me I’m yours.” Your arms come around his neck, your best attempt at staying upright.

“You’re mine. All mine” you moan, the faintest hint of possessiveness peeking through. It’s music to his ears, turning him on to the point that the towel’s virtually useless now in hiding how hard he is. Reaching between your bodies, you take him into your hand to delight in what you’ve done to him. Stroking up and down you feel the blood rushing up his shaft — veins throbbing, his arousal decorating your chipped nail polish.

“Is this mine too?” you joke, teasing the head of his cock with light circular movements. “Fuck, yes. You want it?” he mumbles, his face buried between your tits. He can barely breathe, he’s probably lightheaded, and it’s worth it. Gripping him by the back of the head, you bring him eye to eye with you again. “I want it” you grin, the fullness in your lower belly intensifying.

Yuta sticks his tongue out, curling it to wet his lips. Catching you off guard, he grabs you by the neck and pushes you back on the bed. Keeping you pinned by your neck, his free hand tears your panties to the side. His mouth latches onto your clit, licking and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You’re completely at his mercy, only able to shake and moan as he devours you. His tongue runs between the petal soft lips of your pussy, your juices the best drink he’s had all night.

“Find someone else?” he scoffs, taking a handful of your belly, “Who else’s pussy tastes this good, hmm?” His tongue slams into you, the hand around your throat bringing you flush against his face.

“Yuta, oh god — fuck — you can’t say things like that” you whimper, clawing at the sheets.

“Or what?”

Yuta pulls back, his face soaked with your juices, “Is my baby gonna cum if I tell her how good she tastes?” Refusing to wait for your answer, his tongue dips back inside of you. The ridges of your walls glide across his tastebuds, pulsing each time he swirls around and around. He’s relentless, letting up only for quick breaths of air. “So wet and so — mmm — fucking good” he groans, kissing your inner thigh.

When his tongue meets your core again you feel tingling in the tips of your toes and fingers. The tension in your stomach rises, your breaths growing shallow. Yuta releases your neck, locking his arms around your thighs to keep them spread. “That’s it, baby. That’s my girl. Cum for me.”

Pulling his tongue out, he drags it across your clit and sends you crashing over the edge. You throw your hand over your mouth, suppressing the incoherent moans that spill from your lips. Yuta snatches your hand away, holding you by the wrist just in time to hear those last few moans escape. Not missing a beat, he hops up and brings your limp body with him.

Disoriented, the rubbing of your thighs against your core causing some aftershock, you struggle to gain your footing. “You’re trying to kill me” you pout, leaning on him for support. “Why would I do that?” he asks, putting on his best innocent face, “We still have 10 more stops on the tour. The label would kill me.”

“I can’t stand you!” you say, slapping him on the cheek as softly as you can. Yuta winks, pinching you on the ass, “You’ll live. Now about that shower—” Shaking off the post-orgasm brain fog, you manage to hold yourself up enough to lock lips with him. It’s the clumsiest thing. Kissing, caressing, peeling away your clothes. All while blindly making your way to the shower.

You step into the shower first, expecting Yuta to follow immediately after but he stops short just outside of it.

“Were you, like, serious about that shower phobia thing?”

“No,” he laughs, “I just want to look at you for a second if that’s okay.”

Standing alone in the shower, steamy droplets of water running down the curves of your body, you’re pure perfection. A vine of cherry blossoms travels across your left shoulder, riding your love handles, your hips, down your thigh. He knows how long it took to finish that tattoo. All of the tiny gorgeous details missed by the naked eye. It’s been a secret mission of his to explore every aspect of it. And of you.

The admiration radiates off of him and you find yourself overcome with shyness. “Dude, come on. You’re making me nervous!” you say, hiding behind the shower curtain. Yuta jumps into the shower, hugging you from the side, “Oh my bad, dude. I call you ‘baby’ and I get ‘dude’?” Paying him no mind, you grab the body wash and begin to cover him in rose-scented bubbles.

“Don’t be a brat. I call you other things too. I call you baby—” Your fingers trace his collarbone. “I call you honey—” They travel across his shoulder, drifting down his back. You pause halfway down, “I call you…daddy.” You don’t even try to hide your amusement when your nails press into his lower back and he whimpers. “You—why would you do that?” Yuta asks, knowing very well why.

It does something for him when you call him that. Something that makes him want to tear you apart in the best way. Leaning against the shower wall, you play with his belly button piercing. “Did I do something wrong, d—ah!” Yuta lifts you up, bringing your legs around his waist. Catching your breath, you hold on tight, terrified to fall.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Yuta giddily shifts your weight like it’s nothing, thrusting into you, “I know.” Still dripping from your last orgasm, he slips in easily. Almost too easily. There’s no teasing, no taking it slow. Every inch of him is buried deep inside of you. You can’t cover your mouth and the shower does nothing to conceal your overstimulated moans.

Yuta bounces you up and down on his cock. The water raining down on you causes a sharp slapping noise when your bodies come together. “Fuck me harder” you beg, knowing it’ll only make the sound louder. Always here to give you what you want, he fucks into you harder and harder. With every thrust you seem to get tighter, your body so needy for him that it can’t let go.

They say there’s nothing like it. The rush that you get from a concert. Your heart syncing with the violent bashing of the drums. Well, whoever said that, has no fucking idea what they’re talking about.

Yuta presses your legs back, the head of his cock thick and throbbing as he stimulates your sweet spot. “Baby, it feels too good” he pants, knowing he’s on the brink of coming undone. Purposely clenching as tight as you can, you rock your hips down onto him and he can’t hold out any longer. Now this rush? There’s nothing like this.

The fullness as he cums inside of you makes your second orgasm all the more intense when it consumes you. The two of you float in a state of euphoria somewhere between being out of your body and being hyper-aware of it all at once. Kissing you on the neck, Yuta carefully sets you down on your feet. Unable to hold himself up, he sits down in the bathtub. He holds his arms out to you and you make your way down, cuddling up to him.

“I love you, dude” he mocks, tracing the petals on your tattoo. You groan, rolling your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. I love you too.” You share a laugh at your mutual silliness and then…nothing. Only silence. Your breathing. The running of the water. Your heart and his. You may be in the business of noise but together you’ve found meaning in just being.

“Our band doesn’t really have a concept, you know? We kinda just do what we want. It’s a vibe” Mark explains to the journalist holding a mic way too close to his face.

When your label booked you for a weekend at one of the biggest festivals in the country they failed to tell you that you had interviews lined up. Let alone ones this painfully boring. So here you are, half dressed outside of your tour bus baking in the summer sun with a camera pointed at your faces.

“And vibes are important!” Johnny throws in, “People…they need vibes because without vibes, who are we? Am I right?” Mark stares into the camera, his mind truly blown, “Bro, that’s…deep.” The interviewer nods, pretending that he understood any of that, “Vibes. Right. So you guys are on another level and—”

Just that moment a group of girls pass by behind the camera. Dressed in their skimpiest festival gear, it takes zero effort on their part to reel Mark and Johnny in. “We are so sorry” Mark apologizes, quietly flirting with the girls, “We gotta go get ready for soundcheck.” “Soundcheck, yes! Gotta keep that sound checked” Johnny says, throwing up a peace sign.

As Mark and Johnny ditch the interview to recruit groupies, the interviewer turns to you and Yuta who’ve been praying that he’d forgotten you were there. “Well, uh, I guess it’s just me and the happy couple, huh?” the man asks, plastering on a smile. The two of you are collectively unmoved, though you’re a bit nicer about it than Yuta.

Like a shark, the interviewer smells blood in the water and the mic is in your face next. “Some would say you’re pretty brave dating a rock star. Aren’t you worried someone might try to steal him away?” You and Yuta share a knowing glance before you snatch the mic from the interviewer.

“No. I mean, have you seen me?” you ask, almost glowing as Yuta showers you with kisses, “Next question.” But there is no next question. You hand the mic to Yuta and walk off to avoid saying something you’ll regret.

“And then there was one. So I’m here with lead singer—”

“Yikes, sorry. I have…interview phobia? Yeah” Yuta lies, beginning to back out of frame before you get too far away. Nearly defeated and totally at a loss, the interviewer tries one more time to bait Yuta back in. “I was hoping we could finish this. Maybe I could ask a few more questions.” Yuta pretends to consider it for dramatic effect. “Better idea, you should pull out your phone and stream our new single ‘Don't Ask My Girlfriend Stupid Shit’.”

Noticing that Yuta’s still holding onto the microphone, you run back to steal it. “Parenthesis, thanks for the brand new mic, asshole!” you cackle, holding the metallic purple equipment up like a Grammy. You disappear again, this time with some new equipment. Yuta just shrugs, waving goodbye to the camera, “Love of my life.”

#nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader #nct x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #nct angst #nct smut #nct au #chubby reader #plus size reader

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bedoballoons · 8 months

Note

oh well if you didn’t get itI basically said that move to will probably not be able to control mui because he only appears to turn into ai but it’s just an illiusion.

for my request it was another mitsuri like us x character but we are sad about our past.

SPOILER FOR SEASON 3!!!!!

Due to mitsuri eating so much food, having be reallly strong and have pink and green hair. She was called a pig and one EX said that only a cow or pig would ever marry her which made her dye her hair black and eat 9x less than she needed. And when she found another partner she realized she don’t keep on pretending. One headcannon can I have about her is that you do this she gained an eating disorder. Where she will not eat as much as she needs.

can the characters be: wanderer,albedo,diluc,kaeya,xiao and one of your choice. I love your works and also My cat just had 3 KITTYS!!! I plan on naming them scarameow,kokkie and coco.🐱🐱🍫🍪

Ohhh! You know I really seem to write this show alot and I've still never seen it... :p CONGRATULATIONS on kittens!! Those are such cute names!! I hope they are all doing well ❤️❤️

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Mitsuri like reader~༺}

CW: Angsty! Reader has a eating disorder, has been called a pig and is self conscious about weight! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon chérie, my love,

A/n: I just wanted to say that if you've ever been called a pig, or cow or made fun of for your weight, please don't listen to them. Your body is beautiful and me personally I think you're amazing wether you're skinnier than average or heavier than average. You are gorgeous! ❤️

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Xiao, Wanderer, and Kaeya!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc set a plate in front of you, sitting in the chair across from you with a hopeful gleam in his red eyes...,"I haven't seen you eat anything all day...please, just a few bites. It's your favourite, fresh out of the oven." You looked down at the fresh warm food, the wonderful smell making your stomach churn unhappily, it was such a fatty dish...

Suddenly the harsh words of others started playing in your head, reminding you why you wanted to loose weight so badly..

Pig

Cow

Fatty

You pushed his cooking away, unable to even take a nibble, "I'm not hungry...sorry Diluc. It smells amazing though..." you tried to smile at him, but he clearly wasn't happy with your response. He took your hand into his and placed a kiss on your fingers, whispering against them with sorrow in his voice, "You are beautiful the way you are...please, don't listen to them."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney hurried up to you, holding a freshly baked croissant in his hands that he'd gotten for the two of you to share, silently hoping you'd eat it with him...that all of his suspicions weren't true, "Mon chérie! Looks yummy hmm? Want to sit down for a bite?" His eyes met yours and he simply couldn't imagine how someone could say anything horrible about you, you...were the most gorgeous person in his eyes and he wished so desperately he could show you that.

"I don't mind if we sit and chat while you eat! I'm not really in the mood for a croissant right now, thank you though." You tried your best to sound sweet and truthful, feeling so guilty you had to lie to him...but you wanted to be perfect for him and loosing weight seemed to be the only way...at least in everyone else's eyes.

"...my love, I'll get you anything you wish to eat.."

"I'm just...not hungry right now Lyney."

He grasped your wrist softly, stopping you from walking away so he could kiss your lips...he'd find a way to show you your own beauty, he'd tell you every hour on the dot if he had to...

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo bit his lip, for once in his life he had encountered a problem he just had no idea how to solve, he thought of you as the true meaning of life, the very being that made him want to get out of bed every morning and show his love for you any way he could, a inspiration that never ceased to look perfect and yet...you didn't feel that way about yourself...

How could it be, how could someone break your heart...call you a pig for enjoying food...a cow, it bothered him to no end and he just couldn't wrap his head around that cruelty..."Klee and I made cookies...they are chocolate chip...with a few sprinkles, would you like some?" He sat next to you, Klee following after him, "Ohhh please try one! The sprinkles make them extra yummy!" She looked at you with such a cute face...that for a split second you considered it...they smelled so good and even with sprinkles you could tell they'd be delicious..but, you felt sick at the thought of taking bite...

"Awe next time Klee, I'm...not hungry right now..."

Albedo sighed...how was he going to fix this...

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao was having a hard time understanding your situation, it didn't make sense, why would the pathetic humans who couldn't compare to you in the slightest tell you such awful things...and why would you ever believe them? He was so worried about you, your normally plump cheeks sunken in slightly and your happy smile gone, you didn't enjoy eating...in fact he almost never saw you eat at all anymore.

He had to remind you every two minutes, just to take a few bites and even then you'd refuse, "You should eat...you need to. Please." You'd look away, slightly angry...slightly sad and just say you didn't want to, and it wasn't like he was going to force you to, but he wished there was a way he could help. He'd just have to keep telling you what was true...clearing their sick words from your mind with his sweet sentiments,

"You are the true meaning of every beautiful thing in this world, those mortals are threatened by it and seek to destroy you because of it...don't listen to them."

"You look perfect in my eyes..."

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Why are you listening to those idiots! They probably wouldn't know what beauty was if it slapped them in the face! You are...ughhh" Wanderer groaned in annoyance, knowing full well yelling wasn't going to help you...but he was just so angry, how dare anyone bully you like that, get under your skin. "I'm sorry....I didn't mean to shout, I just, you can't believe what they are saying! Hell if someone like me, who's never loved anyone before...who never gave a damn what people looked like...could fall so goddamn hard for you, you have to be goregous. I will say that as many times as I have to!"

You fought the urge to cry, he didn't usually get so emotional over things like this, but he was worried about you and...for good reason, "Wanderer, I'm fine.." You tucked a piece of your pink hair behind you ear, trying to hide from his prying eyes that starred daggers at you, did you truly think he'd buy that? "Don't lie to me. You're not fine, you're hurting yourself...making yourself sick. Just tell me what to do! How do I help! What do I say...you're fucking perfect to me...isn't that enough?"

𑁍༄Kaeya:

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"Oh...are you sure you don't want just a bite. I've gone and ordered two, you wouldn't want me to have to eat both would you? I'd surely become ill with a stomach ache.." Kaeya scooched the plate in your direction, using every persuasive method he could think of...he'd already tried complimenting you over and over, flirting with you more often, showering you with kisses and love, but you still wouldn't enjoy a meal with him. This was his last resort...

"Kaeya..."

"Pretty please...just a little would make me so happy..."

You sighed, thinking about how much you'd eaten...or more rather, how much you hadn't eaten and took a small bite, the flavours tasting good, but not like they used to...it was difficult to even swallow. Kaeya seemed so proud though, so...hopeful.

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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kenmakodz · 3 months

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CANDID LOVE ˙✧˖📷

06. brain food ☆

writing in-between cuts!

a quiet knock on the door catches your attention, which was previously focused on scrolling through random shows on Netflix. a weird feeling, you get. an emotion that seems to be the love-child of excitement and nervousness. there's no time to run away from these feelings, though, so you get up and open the door for the poor boy who's been hauling 3 bags of food.

"my god" he sighs, setting the bags down on the coffee table. "i think my stomach has eyes. there's no way we're finishing all this in one night." you laugh, noticing how he's holding his arm out of pain. "i've definitely done the same, more times than i'd like to admit-- here, sit down for a bit." gesturing to the couch, you sit down and pat a spot relatively close to you. he takes this offer with open arms, considering he'd walked pretty far. "sorry i took a while, hopefully i didn't keep you waiting too long?" his hands fidget together as he takes in your room. it's the size of a triple, but you have it to yourself. it's quite surprising how nice the school treats transfer students, considering how main students are usually shoved into a tiny room with 2-3 other people. you place your hand upon his; a ballsy move, but you know how it feels to be anxious about things. you don't want him to be anxious with you. "it's fine, really. i don't mind waiting for you." you smile, moving your hand back to it's previous position. embarrassment clearly runs through his body, but to you he just looked starstruck. after a moment of pushing these feelings back, he returns your smile. "i'm glad, then. um, can we eat? i fear my stomach is going to wrinkle up if we don't." "yes yuuta, we can eat."

"okay, okay. this seems good for now, i think?" he sits back from the laptop you two have been sharing, taking a second to re-read the outline. your eyes scan the page as well; it's a very.. rough outline. you start laughing at the last few lines, where he'd begun to give up on being professional. after all, only you two will see this draft. "why are you laughing?" he pouts, thinking you're making fun of the ideas laid out. "oh relax," you lean back with him, realizing he's gotten much closer than before. "i can just tell that you were rushing writing the final scene." his head whips to you and a hand clutches his chest, feigning shock; a sarcastic gasp falls from his lips. "how could you! we worked very hard on this!" your hand pushes his away from his chest, the both of them landing on his lap. "oh, shut up. i'm just teasing." he huffs anyways, a facade you've become accustomed to. after all, one of your best friends is nobara kugisaki.

reaching to a stuffed dog to your side, you hand it to him. "here, will an emotional support dog help?" he sighs, wrapping it in his arms. "i suppose." laughing again, you sit up and grab the laptop once more. "you're so dumb." he grips the toy more, you don't realize it, but he likes the way it smells of lavender just like you do. "what are you doing now, don't you think its enough for tonight?" you stop to think, after sending the draft to your phone. "well, we'll need to send casting calls to the neighboring schools sometime soon.. but i guess we can be done for now." he closes the laptop for you and places it on the table once again, looking back. "good, we can do that another time-" his sentence is cut off due to his phone practically blowing up in the room over. "sorry," he starts, getting up and handing the stuffed dog back to you. "let me go check on that."

"hey, sorry again. my friends were blowing up my phone for some reason." he comes back into the room where you two were sitting before, unsure if he should sit back down. he can't read your face, and you can't read his either, despite you both feeling the same way. "it's okay. you can sit back down if you want to stay a bit longer..?" you look down for a split second, anticipating the rejection he was about to give you. "i was looking for shows before you got here, but i couldn't find a good one." you try to convey what you say as a question, but it almost comes out as a plea. he doesn't say anything immediately, and you almost get upset? looking back up, you realize he's already getting ready to sit back down with you. "i'd love to stay. i also have an amazing suggestion for a show." your eyes light up, and it feels like the room filled with more air the way you both sighed with relief. "oh really?" you tease him, as he takes back the toy he'd left with you. "lay it on me then."

fun facts -> TWO PEOPLE PINING FOR EACHOTHER BUT NEITHER KNOW IT!!!! a classic trope. chefs kiss. yuuta offered to go get snacks not only because he was starving, but he also needed time to calm himself down before going to y/n's dorm. he was scared. scared that he'd say something stupid, give her the ick, embarrass himself. you know, the works. once he got there though, it felt like he never wanted to go home again.

-> GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCh. screams. kicking my feet like a little girl writing this chapter.

previous, masterlist, next [07. i hate men (except you two)]

taglist is open! @just-a-girlblogger @moryymor @swissy23 @hvnyacoded @sereniteav @k4romis @jayathelostdragon @h3rmess @olivandeee @lysaray @ari3000dontcare @raechu11 @marifujioka @nyxlai @sonicsolos @saltypuffin1040 @r0ckst4rjk @h8ani @lmaolmaolmao @maya-maya-56 @mittensdun @adrenova @pnkblueberry @morgyyyyyyy @chososwh0r3 @lunecqm @r4veeen @arivsx @levlucs-kiru @mellozhi

if you are in bold, i am unable to tag you :( and if i forgot to add you, PLEASE YELL AT ME

⤷ © kenmakodz

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lycheedr3ams · 9 months

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König would NOT cheat!

heated rant about my opinions on könig's loyalty to his s/o

part of the exploring könig's character series (organized masterlist to come)

disclaimer: i am not judging any fanfic writers for the things that I am going to discuss in this post. i don't mean hate towards anyone. but also, this fandom has really gotten away from how characters are in canon just to satisfy the readers' desires. fanon is NOT canon, and it should not be!

König would not cheat.

think about it. he grew up likely with few to no friends, could never really connect with anyone, was an outcast. then his s/o comes along and completely breaks his walls down and accepts him for who he is. do you seriously think he would cheat on the one person he ever trusted enough with his whole heart? the only person in his whole life who ever accepted him for who he was?

i've seen some fanfictions that said König would come back from a bar with hickeys all the time, or how he would cheat on you repeatedly throughout your relationship. (firstly, in all of these fanfictions, the reader stayed with König. idgaf who you're with, if you've been cheated on, leave! this is setting such a bad example for impressionable people). I don't think the writers who described these types of scenarios understand social anxiety or what it's like to grow up ostracized. when someone has social anxiety (i can speak on this topic since I have it) they're not going to just go up to strangers and start making out with them or do random hookups. especially in König's case, since not only does he have social anxiety, he is often feared by others and adopted the "lone wolf" persona so that people would leave him alone. for him, it was easier that way.

and why the hell would König even want to cheat on the one person he can trust? how could König give up that trust and love just for a one night stand or some random drunken make-out at a bar? also, i don't really see König going to bars by himself, let alone making out or fucking a random girl. König knows what it's like to be alone, to have absolutely no one. do we really think König would give up his s/o just for some momentary fun? i don't think so at all.

i can't even imagine how much time it would take to build a relationship with König, and how much effort it would take too. I think König would see and appreciate that time and effort you invested in him and rarely, if ever, take it for granted. he would appreciate everything you do to make him feel accepted and loved. and to give that up to kiss a random girl? he'd never.

i honestly don't know how to best articulate into words the intense emotions i have on this topic. it literally boils my blood when I see fanfic writers saying König would cheat on you, because he fucking would NOT! people who think a life-long outcast would cheat on the one person who ever accepted them have clearly never known what it's felt like to truly be an outcast.

i will shout it from the rooftops. König would not cheat.

and fine, let's say hypothetically he DID cheat... I don't think he'd ever be able to look you in the eye again. he'd be so ashamed for what he did when he remembered how lucky he was to have your love. he would be quiet and shaky and would never forgive himself. he wouldn't be able to shamelessly come back to you every time like so many fanfictions I've read said he could

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prejacfetish · 7 months

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Train Yourself (or a partner) to Cum Faster - Coach Sarah' Method for PE

TL;DR

* Find what tier you're in below

* work towards the next tier

**Introduction**

After posting my first adventure here, I've gotten many, many people asking me to train or coach them one-on-one. Of course, having someone hot, clever, and a little sadistic to train you is the best, but, tragically, the reality is that I am way too busy to coach every person who wants to be coached.

But, these conversations have helped me start to formulate a generic write-up for some of the stuff I would suggest for guys or girls who want to be coached, either to cum faster, to cum helplessly to some specific stimulus, or both. This is my first stab at the former -- coaching to cum faster.

I've never had a "method" before. Every guy or girl I've ever played these sorts of games with I've approached individually, depending on their desires, their past, and what I personally was finding hot when I thought about it.

But I do think there are patterns or defaults that can help, so I've decided to start writing them down and sharing them.

If any of you follow my advice and keep notes, I'd love to hear how it goes! I particularly enjoy public comments, even if they're made with a burner account, because then everyone can benefit from your experience.

**What this guide is and isn't**

This will be an initial attempt at a guide specifically for people (any gender, any genitals) who want to cum faster. This is actually NOT what I do most of the time in my personal life -- most of the time, especially if I'm even occasionally sleeping with the person, I'd much prefer to train them to cum when I want, which might be 30 seconds into making out with them, or not at all. But, since PE Fetish is where I shared my first post, that's what most of your questions have been about, so I figured I'd start there.

So, what are the main goals of making someone cum faster? And what are the things I am not particularly interested in?

Let's get some of the "not interested" things out of the way first.

First, I'm not interested in fantasy, and that's not what this guide is about. I think fantasy captioned images where a guy is cumming in his pants after just seeing a girl in tight pants are great, if that's your thing. More power to ya! But MY thing is doing it in real life, and in real life that sort of thing is both borderline impossible, and also, if it really COULD be achieved, would completely screw up a person's life. Hot in fantasy, but not workable in reality.

Second, for this guide, I'm only interested in "conditioned triggers" in as much as they facilitate cumming faster. The idea of cumming whenever you see pussy or breasts or ass or a fire truck or hear a specific phrase is GREAT, and I LOVE it -- but here it is, at best, of secondary importance.

If you condition yourself to only cum to bare breasts, for example, you're working towards a different goal than strictly "lowering your time" PE. Imagine training to only cum to bare breasts, and it worked perfectly. Does that mean if we were hooking up, and I left my shirt on, you could you go for hours?

Obviously the answer to this is probably "who knows," but the point is that if your goal is just to get faster, a trigger CAN be helpful, but it should be a side dish more than the main course.

(Side note, a variation on this that I applied with Alan in a previous post, and that I have used several times since, is conditioning friends to cum when they see my bare pussy. This is a fun variation on a PE fetish, because it lets you keep a guy hard for as long as you want, but they know they will never be able to fuck you! That's not what I'm covering here, though. Maybe another day!)

So if that's what I DON'T want, what DO I want to achieve with this kind of coaching?

**Goals / What this guide will help you do**

The following three goals, IN ORDER OF IMPORTANCE:

1. the person gets better at the learned skill of cumming quickly. week over week, the number of minutes and seconds it takes for them to cum goes down consistently (if not strictly linearly)

2. the person gets better at cumming from less intense VISUAL & mental stimulation. if in week 1 they are cumming to niche hardcore porn, in week 52 (say) I'd like them to be cumming just as easily to pics of people wearing clothes, or just their imagination.

3. the person gets better at cumming from less intense PHYSICAL stimulation. if in week 1 they are cumming to jerking off with a death-grip at high speed, or by holding a hitachi directly against their clit, by week 52 (say), I'd like them to be cumming from one finger rubbing their frenulum, or a soft paintbrush or make-up brush on their clit.

This is a key concept, so I'll repeat it: for me, and this guide, I am more interested in lowering times FIRST, decreasing intensity of visual stimulation SECOND, and decreasing physical stimulation THIRD. There can be some wiggle room, and not everything is linear, as I'll explain; but in general I think going from 20 minute jerk-offs (or 4+ hour goon sessions) with a tight grip and nonstop hardcore/niche porn on monday, to trying to "OFM" to girls in baggy clothes in 90 seconds on tuesday, is a recipe for not getting anywhere.

**Three Elements**

That said, progress is always non-linear. So, you'll be working through tiers. For each tier, you will:

1. Get your time down, and keep lowering it consistently

2. Then, start to experiment with less intense visual / mental stimulation

3. Then, start to experiment with less intense physical stimulation

When you are hitting all three benchmarks in a given tier, you'll move on to the next.

Ok those are the goals. Now onto the method.

**Method In Broad Strokes**

1. Take stock of where you currently are.

2. Find the highest tier you're in based on the benchmarks

3. Use that tier to set specific, concrete goals

4. Work towards those goals in the following order:A. TimeB. Visual stimulationC. Physical stimulation

5. When you reach a new benchmark, start the steps over

6. When (not if) you hit a plateau, follow the "plateau procedure"

Again, I've never written this down before, but this is basically what I'm typically, generically doing and thinking about when I'm training a friend (or enemy). I'm not always literally following the exact steps in the exact order, but it's pretty close to what I would do in the broadest of strokes.

(Also, for what it's worth, if anyone works on this constantly I'd love your feedback. I'm inventing these tiers right now based on experience, in order to help people broadly; but in my normal life I'd be setting individual goals for each individual. These might end up being a little "off" and if you find yourself stalling or hitting certain benchmarks more easily than others, I'd love to hear that.

**Tiers**

>**Tier 1 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates 3 or more times per day

>Time: n/a (doesn't matter)

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 2 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates once or twice a day, most days

>Time: n/a (doesn't matter)

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 3 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates either every other day, or 3 days a week.

>Time: records time consistently (time itself doesn't matter)

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 4 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates either every other day, or 3 days a week.

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 5 minutes

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>*Note: from this point and below, the requirement for every tier is "Frequency: Masturbates either every other day, or 3 days a week, not more."*

>**Tier 5 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 90 seconds

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 6 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 60 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person w/o penetration

>Physical stimulation: n/a (*Can be anything, though this is a good place to casually practice a "loose" grip (penis) or less intense or indirect vibrations (if you have a pussy and use a vibrator).*)

>*Note: from this point and below, the phrase "a single person" refers to "a single person per video or image." You are keeping to softcore, not fixating on a single individual.*

>**Tier 7 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 45 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person wearing SOME clothing on top and bottom (can be underwear or swimsuit)

>Physical stimulation: masturbates with thumb, index finger and middle finger only (penis) or fingers only (vagina)

>**Tier 8 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 30 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person wearing street clothes

>Physical stimulation: masturbates with two fingers only (index finger and thumb or index finger and middle finger) (penis) or 1 finger only (vagina)

>*Note: from this point and below, the phrase "street clothes" is subjective. My metric is "an outfit that wouldn't get you kicked out of a typical restaurant where families are present"*

>**Tier 9 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 20 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person wearing street clothes

>Physical stimulation: masturbates with two fingers only (index finger and thumb or index finger and middle finger) (penis) or 1 finger only (vagina)

>**Tier 10 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 10 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm without visual stimulation

>Physical stimulation: masturbates with one finger only (penis) or with a make up brush only (vagina)

**Using the Tiers**

Again, the method / pattern is as follows:

1. Take stock of where you currently are.

2. Find the highest tier you're in based on the benchmarks

3. Use that tier to set specific, concrete goals

4. Work towards those goals in the following order:A. TimeB. Visual stimulationC. Physical stimulation

5. When you reach a new benchmark, start the steps over

6. When (not if) you hit a plateau, follow the "plateau procedure"

For the purposes of this guide, you want to look at the HIGHEST number tier for which you hit ALL the metrics. That is the tier you are "on." One tier below that is the tier you are "working towards."

Note that I say you need to hit ALL the metrics to be ON a given tier. What happens if you hit some metrics for one tier, but not all the metrics? As you'll see, this will often be the case, and that's a good thing. In every case, you are considered to be on the HIGHEST number tier for which you hit ALL the metrics; hitting some metrics for lower tiers is great, but doesn't mean anything in terms of your programing.

For example, lets look at tiers 5 and 6

>**Tier 5 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 90 seconds

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 6 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 60 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person w/o penetration

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

Lets say you time yourself and are able to cum in 54 seconds while looking at hardcore BDSM porn. You are in Tier 5, working towards tier 6, because while you meet the time metric for tier 6 (good job!), you don't yet meet ALL the metrics.

Let's look at a more extreme example.

>**Tier 3 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates either every other day, or 3 days a week.

>Time: records time consistently (time itself doesn't matter)

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 4 Benchmarks:**

>Frequency: Masturbates either every other day, or 3 days a week.

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 5 minutes

>Visual stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>Physical stimulation: n/a (doesn't matter, can be anything)

>**Tier 7 Benchmarks:**

>Time: consistently reaches orgasm in less than 45 seconds

>Visual stimulation: reaches orgasm looking at images of a single person wearing SOME clothing on top and bottom (can be underwear or swimsuit)

>Physical stimulation: masturbates with thumb, index finger and middle finger only (penis) or fingers only (vagina)

Let's say you consistently masturbate to images of a single person wearing some clothing on top and bottom, like underwear or a swimsuit. Great! You have only recently started timing yourself, and you average about 8 1/2 minutes to climax, with a best-ever time of 5:24.

You are doing awesome, but for the purposes of programing, you should consider yourself at Tier 3, working towards Tier 4. This isn't to diminish your work cumming to less intense visual stimulation! But this guide is about learning to cum faster. Following the tier system, you can stop worrying about less intense visual stimulation for a while, and focus on getting your time down for a while.

Again, as a reminder, this guide isn't one-size fits all. If you think this concept is shit, do whatever you want! I'm not your mom (unless I've explicitly told you to call me Mommy) and you can do whatever you want to do. But this is the GENERAL advice and programing I'd give to a person who wants to achieve the specific goals I outlined above. If you want something else, do something else, I won't be offended.

**Moving Up In Tiers**

**Tiers 1 - 3**

Your goal here is to work from masturbating many times a day to once every other day, or 3 days a week on scheduled days each week. (Either is fine in my opinion -- every other day is probably sightly better in general, but every 3 days can make overcoming plateaus easier so it's mostly a wash.)

* for one week, keep track of how many times you masturbate. (Generally this means orgasm, but if you do a lot of edging, count each 30 minute block as one time)

* At the end of the week make a total for the week.

* Multiply the total by .9. That is your new weekly maximum.

* Divide by 7 to get a daily maximum, if you want to

* for each following week, multiply THE WEEKLY MAXIMUM by .9 to get a new weekly maximum

* Do not multiply the number of times you masturbated by .9, I don't care about that number at all. Reduce the amount you masturbate by as much as you like. Drop down to 3x a week on week 2 if you want. But your weekly maximum goes down by 10% each week regardless.

* You are done with this sequence when you consistently masturbate every other day / on 3 scheduled days a week for 3 consecutive weeks.

*Walking, exercise, and hobbies Side-note*

For people that I coach who masturbate A LOT, their masturbation is often a way of numbing difficult emotions. Simply dropping down in frequency without doing anything else tends, in my experience, to fail spectacularly.

If you masturbate more than 7x a week, you should follow the following sequence as you follow the above sequence:

* when you determine the number of times a week you masturbate, also keep track (precisely or loosely, guesstimates are fine) of the number of MINUTES you masturbate

* As you reduce the number of times you masturbate, you are REQUIRED to replace at least 50% of that time (100% is optimal) with specific other activities.

* Walking is the default activity, and might be the best. This generally means going outside and walking, maybe listening to music or a podcast. If you can't decide, just do this.

* Other activities include any form of exercise, or any hobby where you look at your hands (drawing, journaling, sculpting, ship-in-a-bottle are ok; video games and surfing the internet do not count for this requirement)

**Tiers 4 and beyond**

Again, the method / pattern is as follows:

1. Take stock of where you currently are.

2. Find the highest tier you're in based on the benchmarks

3. Use that tier to set specific, concrete goals

4. Work towards those goals in the following order:A. TimeB. Visual stimulationC. Physical stimulation

5. When you reach a new benchmark, start the steps over

6. When (not if) you hit a plateau, follow the "plateau procedure"

We've now covered 1, 2, and 3. Now we'll work on 4, 5 and 6.

**4A. How to lower your time**

This alone is a helpful and simple method, and I bet some of you who think this guide is WAY too complicated can still benefit from this approach. Here's what you do.

Note: should be self-explanatory, but the following is intended for people who are in tier 4 or higher. If you are masturbating 3x a day, godspeed, but this will probably not be super effective.

Solo Method:

Week 1

* each time you masturbate, time yourself with a STOPWATCH

* \- the timer begins when you touch your genitals, even through clothes (this is to prevent cheating by doing a lot of stimulation through your jeans or whatever, which is counterproductive)

* \- You can look at stimulating stuff at other times, but this may cause you to go crazy or fall off the wagon (hard to advise if you don't have a partner)

* at the end of the week, average the times (add them up and divide by 3 or 4 depending)

* Multiply this number by .9 -- This is your new MAXIMUM TIME

For each following week:

* each time you masturbate, set a TIMER (not a stopwatch) for your MAXIMUM TIME.

* If you orgasm within the maximum time, great! (it's not required, but I think it's good to write down how long you took, eg {max time - time remaining on timer = session time\]

* if you do not orgasm within the maximum time, no problem! stop masturbating and wait until your next session.

* Generally, if you are following the structure, you will always cum either in the first session or the second session. This is considered "good progress"

* At the end of each week, multiply the week's MAXIMUM TIME by .9 to get next weeks new Maximum Time

* Generally there's no need to add up your times and find an average anymore, unless you find yourself consistently beating your maximum times by a huge margin (over 25%) FOR MULTIPLE WEEKS RUNNING.

* When your week's maximum time gets = to or lower than the maximum time for the Tier you are WORKING TOWARDS, set your max time at that time and keep it there.

*Partner Method:*

*As above, but with a partner you can generally go faster, especially if the partner is keeping you in a chastity device. Sometimes I will multiply the max time by other numbers, like .85 or .8, or arbitrarily drop down even lower -- and then in following weeks raise the time similarly arbitrarily. I find a more chaotic approach that trends downward is often more effective and makes my partner feel much more controlled and helpless.*

Within 2 weeks, you will either be cumming within the max time for the tier you are working towards, most of the time or all of the time, OR, you will be plateaued, only cumming every other time (and likely really frustrated).

If you are pretty consistently cumming within the max time for the tier you are working towards, keep your max time where it is and move on to decreasing visual stimulation.

If you are plateaued, do the following:

* time yourself with a stopwatch (not a timer)

* masturbate once, with the goal of cumming as fast as you can

* whatever time you get is your temporary max time, which will be consistent as you move on to decreasing visual stimulation.

**4B -** **Decreasing Visual Stimulation**

(This is identical to (but maybe slightly more detailed than) the much-misunderstood "Trigger Method" popular on this subreddit. I hate to even use that term, because people almost always get the wrong idea about what the word "trigger" means. So if you don't know what I'm talking about, just forget the word trigger.)

* keep your maximum time, as above.

* as above, if you don't cum within your maximum time, stop and wait for your next session

* Look at the requirements for visual stimulation for the tier you are working towards

* Before you start masturbating, pull up something along those lines in another window, browser tab, screen, whatever. We'll call this the LESS STIMULATING stuff.

* masturbate as normal to the stuff you normally masturbate to

* when you are close to orgasm, switch to the LESS STIMULATING stuff while you orgasm

* Over time, experiment with switching to the LESS STIMULATING stuff earlier and earlier in the session

* Eventually experiment with starting with the less stimulating stuff and looking at it the whole time.

* There is another more concrete method for this that involves two timers, but that is probably too much for most people's patience.

* DON'T: look at the less stimulating stuff to start with and switch to some other thing later.

* I don't really recommend making the LESS STIMULATING stuff something specific like belly buttons or feet or eye contact or fire hydrants if your goal is to decrease your time. (That can be fun for other games, but outside the scope of this specifci guide.)

* When you are consistently cumming to the less stimulating stuff, move on to decreasing physical stimulation

* If you go for several weeks making no progress -- consistently not cumming, or frequently only cumming on session #2 and not #1, you can move on to physical stimulation OR add time to your max time and start over.

**4C - Decreasing Physical Stimulation**

Much the same as above, but with physical stimulation.

* keep your maximum time, as above.

* as above, if you don't cum within your maximum time, stop and wait for your next session

* Look at the requirements for physical stimulation for the tier you are working towards

* masturbate as normal to the stuff you normally masturbate to

* while you masturbate, experiment with less intense grip/pressure/lower speed on vibrator

* when you are close to orgasm, switch to the LESS STIMULATING type of touching while you orgasm. Do this until you feel you are cumming normally/strongly with the less intense stimulation

* Over time, experiment with switching to the LESS STIMULATING grip/pressure earlier and earlier in the session

* (For people with vaginas, when you are moving from vibrator to fingers, take your time. This tier might be a huge challenge for you! That's fine, be patient, take it slow.)

* Eventually experiment with starting with the less stimulating grip or pressure the whole time.

* When you are consistently cumming to the less stimulating stuff, but are falling short of the tier you are working towards in terms of time or visual stimulation, return to those steps as above. It's okay for progress to be non-linear!

* If you go for several weeks making no progress -- consistently not cumming, or frequently only cumming on session #2 and not #1, you can move back to visual stimulation OR add time to your max time and start over.

Ok, I typed this all out without too much thinking about it or review. I'll probably return to it in a day or two to make refinements and possibly add examples for the last part. And obviously I'll need

Please sound off with questions, in the meantime.

And, good luck! I can't offer direct coaching, but I'd love to hear your progress in the comments.

\-Coach Sarah

#prejac #premature ejaculation

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