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#he looks like he needs a good scrub
andy-clutterbuck · 6 months
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2x08 | Nebraska
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mikelogan · 1 year
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Scrubs 9x06 Our New Girl-Bro
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jamesisasimp · 2 years
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Sam, Sam, Sam!!
I’ve just realised:
Atj is the fancast for dass James, right? And in the very first chapter Regulus sees him covered in blood on his couch.
Sooo
James must have looked something like this, only with a bit more blood 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
Roooooc, you don't understand, this is literally my favorite scene of him in the ENTIRE movie
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Shirt torn open, blood all over the collar, hair a mess...
I swear they had NO BUSINESS making him look this beautifully disheveled for only his last five minutes on screen- we were ROBBED
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ceilidho · 10 months
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prompt: reader is hired as a live in house cleaner because ghost is always away and he only comes back on leave and he insists she stay in the guest room. Over time he increasingly acts like she’s his live in girlfriend or something. Very confusing for reader lmao.
-
The job comes at the exact right time. 
The way you stumble onto your new job is a bit dicey, if you’re being honest. You’ve been meaning to get out of the waitressing life for a while—the tips are shit and the number of times that you’ve had your backside pinched has slowly but steadily climbed into the double digits. You just haven’t had direction; somewhere to go. 
Your savior comes in the form of a six foot plus soldier. Oh, he doesn’t tell you that, but his body language speaks for itself. 
At first, even the sight of him makes your belly clench and palms sweat like when you watch rock climbing documentaries or parkour videos online (all moist and clammy and you have to wipe them on your jeans before shaking his hand). He’s a one-time customer at your little roadside diner that gradually becomes a repeat offender. 
He comes at odd times, sometimes disappearing for a month or two before he’s back to sitting in the booth at the back of the diner with his back against the wall. You smile shakily when you pour him coffee after coffee. He never eats. Always sits in the same booth, dressed in the same black hoodie that does nothing to hide the sheer size of him and a black surgical mask that he never removes. He has a sixth sense for when you’re watching him from behind the counter, waiting for him to take a sip.
You never do catch a glimpse of his face. Not completely anyway. You know him only by the faint smell of gunpowder and metal that clings to him like a second skin, and the feeling of his calloused hand against yours. 
Like ice slowly chipping off a glacier that one day cracks, a huge chunk splintering off and crashing into the sea, you know nothing about him until you’re suddenly in his house. Simon, he tells you, and the sound of his name awakens something in you. He needs a housekeeper and you need a reason to leave. 
You quit the diner; barely even put in a week’s notice. 
The day you drive up the long beaten road up to his property, a cabin deep in the English countryside, clear blue skies follow you. Clouds crisp, delicate even. Simon takes you through the house, showing you to the guest room where you’ll be staying while he’s away. He never directly confirms your suspicions, but the faint tightness around his eyes when he mentions his job tells you all you need to know. No wonder he needs someone to keep the house in order. Never around to do it himself.
Then he’s gone, swift as a ghost. You wake up in the guest room to a hastily scrawled note on your bedside table and a faint feeling of loss. 
You scrub tiles and dust the top bit of the fan that everyone always misses; you mow the lawn, clean the gutters, and sit under the shade of a poplar tree with a glass of lemonade in the early evenings. If you look up into the tree, you’ll see spiders and squirrel nests. It’s almost therapeutic. 
Weeks pass at a time. Simon reemerges like clear skies between periods of rain. Sometimes even before you wake up, you can feel the change like lighting sizzling in the air, crackling hot under your fingertips and then stumbling into the kitchen to find him leaning against the counter, coffee already brewing. You blush into an apology that he waves off.
Good soldier. Better boss. 
You fall into a routine, something of a cadence that is only interrupted by Simon’s hands on your hips when he moves you out of the way to grab a mug from the top shelf. His finger brushing over the curve of your cheekbone to wipe away flour smudged on your cheek. Then he’s gone again, passing through like a ghost. 
Perhaps he’s a more tactile man than you originally assumed. Something about the way he held himself in those first few weeks in the diner suggested otherwise, the way he seemed to radiate a latent hostility. Do not get close. You read this in the general slope of his eyebrows and the scars across his muscled forearms up until he reaches out to touch you, growing more and more comfortable with you around.
“You alright, love?” said into your ear on a warm night when Simon materializes onto the couch beside you, practically out of thin air. Your heart almost bursts in your chest. 
When you turn, he’s as beautiful as ever, honey burnt eyes staring out from behind a balaclava this time. Still dresses in his standard issue tactical pants, the faint smear of grime and gore around the ankles. There’s a lump in your throat when you smile. 
He smells richer now. Deeper, like the forest floor. Like crawling through mud and spider webs and a thick, cloying miasma of desperation. 
“Sorry—I didn’t know you’d be back,” you apologize, going to rise up to your feet. It feels wrong to commandeer his house when he’s on leave, even though you live here too.
A heavy hand on your shoulder pulls you down, settling you to his side. “Off your feet now—there you go, atta girl. No sense getting up; show’s not even done.” 
He angles you back to face the TV and tugs you into his lap almost effortlessly. You do not look back, even when you feel him slip the balaclava off, hot breath fanning over your neck. Not even when fingers play over the thin line of skin where your shirt rides up. You blink like your eyes are gummy and try not to shudder when his thumb dips underneath your shirt.
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moondirti · 1 month
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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.
if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.
and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.
so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.
it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?
granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.
jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.
until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.
because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.
by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.
it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.
and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.
johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?
he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.
"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.
"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."
he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.
besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.
but–
"are you a doctor?"
"n-no."
"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."
he just can't help himself.
over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.
his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.
on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.
then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.
"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?
"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."
"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."
and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:
you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"
ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.
"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.
"hm."
"is this how it usually-"
"sometimes."
"oh."
"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.
a few moments later, you speak up again.
"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."
he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.
"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."
you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."
and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.
if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 11 days
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[I only have 30 pounds in my bank account] - Mafia!TF141*F!Reader
Summary: You sigh when it's the fifth time someone fights in your poor tea shop this month. You just open it two months ago, in an area ruled by mafia called '141'. Maybe you should find their boss and give them money or what to stop the bullshit keeps happening in your shop. (well, here they come)
Mafia!TF141*F!Reader, but only Soap and Ghost in this chapter unless I extend this
chapter 2
You’re just trying to fulfill your dream, plus survive with the money you earn with your shop, but you start questioning if this is a good idea, maybe you should just listen to your friend and be a 9-5 worker, sitting in front of a laptop the whole day.
This isn’t a good location to open a tea shop, your little shop will rather become a place for dealing drugs or getting extorted in the first month. The area is fully ruled by the mafia, hence the cops couldn’t do anything here, but it makes the rent extremely low, which you’re able to afford with money you saved during school, and have a tiny shop that can barely squeeze in more than 8 people.
Looking at the scene playing in your shop for the fifth time this month, you stare at the people fighting and break the cup with dead eyes. You want to shout, to kick these guys' ass out of here or hit them with your broom, yet you glance at their muscles and the knives in their hand –  probably killing every day as work out, to your opposite one because you slump onto the bed once you close the shop and go upstairs, you choose to remain silent as the yelling only become louder.
Maybe you should find the mafia boss or some henchmen and give them half of your income to prevent the mayhem, but first, you don’t even know who actually rules this fucking place; second, you doubt they will have interest in your skimpy bank account. The only information you have is the mafia ruling here called ‘141’, since it’s an open secret to residents here.
“What are ye arseholes doin’?”
Fuck, here comes another one, or two as you spot the man with a balaclava behind the mohawk man who's speaking. They are tall, muscular and built like bricks. Grown like giraffes either, you complement when you need to crook your neck up to look at them stepping into your shop as if it's their backyard.
but the chaos halts immediately as you watch your ‘customers’ seem shocked with terror at the men.
You pretend you’re deaf and attempt to bury yourself in your counter. Please don’t kill me I didn’t hear a goddamn word and didn’t see you threatening them. You recite your defense as you scrub at the same tea cup till the distinct accent from the mohawk man catches you off guard that you almost drop it.
“I guess it’s already clean, lass.” A smirk appears on his face as he points at the cup.
“Wh– what do you want?” 
“Calm down, jus’ want te have some tea.”
“I only have 30 pounds in my bank account.”
“We’re just sayin’ we want tea.” The taller man speaks for the first time after coming in, and it startles you but forces your brain to function at the same time.
Ah, they aren’t here for money. You finally get what they’re talking about.
“Isn’t it supposed te be a tea shop here? One cup for him, and give me a cup of coffee.”
“Oh, of course. What kind of tea would you like, Sir?” You shift slightly to meet the other man’s eyes, and you want to shiver under his cold eyes.
“Just give him whatever you recommend.” 
They round over the glass scattering on the floor and take a seat closest to your counter after you nod at them.
While boiling the water, you sneak a glimpse at them, and the shape of guns covered by their clothes are unignorable as you scold yourself to stop looking at them, or the bigger guy might stab your eyes, but you still curse whole-heartedly in mind when the Scottish accent man meet your eyes with his azure ones and shines you a grin.
Should just quit staring, or you shouldn’t open this shop at all. Regretting your decisions as you turn back and focus back on making their drink, you’re able to recognize them staring at you from the periphery of your vision. Is it too late to kneel down and beg for your life right now?
You still perfectly make their orders and bring them the drinks, even though you’re sweating internally. At least don’t mess it up, and your confidence in your tea and coffee isn’t born from nothing, as you notice the man with the skull balaclava takes a sip first, then raises his eyebrow, added with a side glance at you.
“Haven’t seen him amazed by tea in years, it must be very good.” The mohawk man whistles as he sips at his coffee and gives an approving nod too.
“Thank you…” Your ego shouldn’t be boosted by mafias, but you still relax a bit knowing you didn't screwed up.
“When did ye open ‘is shop?” The man asks while the other continues drinking his tea, but seemingly taking in the conversation too.
“About two months ago."
"That’s why we didn't know about it before…” He taps at the table twice before shooting you another question “Got blokes like those in yer shop earlier often?”
Death sentence is served to your front, that’s what you think you hear. Is it better to say yes or no? Judging by the fact those people are their minions, you’re not sure if saying yes is indicating they haven’t controlled them appropriately.
“Tell us the truth” 
“Yeah, it’s the fifth time this month.” Swallowing, you confirm. Lies aren’t meaningful, and surely they’re able to pierce any veil with those scrutinizing stares and keen minds.
You watch them sharing a glance, and Soap takes out a pen along with a piece of paper, and starts scribbling on it.
“Here, call this number when you run in trouble, aye?" He shoves the paper into your grasp “I’m Soap, call him Ghost.”
"It’s a nice shop, we’ll come back soon.”
Your little shop drops into peace again as your customers leave, and you gaze at the generous tip lying on your counter, to the paper in your palm.
A number is written on it, with a big badge of ‘141’ beside it.
Oh shit, so your shop just became the most far-flung mafia’s property without you knowing.
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toji-girl · 3 months
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tags: pregnant! fem reader + fluff + you're mamaguro + toji refers to you as mommy + so self-ship coded but made into x reader for all to enjoy + feedback such as comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♡
Bright red colors felt like lasers burning into his eyes as Toji cracked them open feeling a smaller hand nudge him awake until he was halfway sitting up. "What is it Megs?" He asked in a sleepy tone.
It had a tinge of irritation to it that his son picked up on as he moved to crawl onto the bed taking the spot that you were laying in an hour prior, the mattress was still warm and it smelt just like you.
"Mom is downstairs crying," Megumi replied and looked at his dad who hung his head to scrub his hand over his face knowing exactly why you were awake at three am and crying as well.
Toji scooped up his son who is a spitting image of him, to the point that you tell people he gave birth to your son. "Is it the baby?" He asked curiously, his voice clogged with his own tiredness.
"Something like that, when you were growing in mommy's belly I had to get her about ten banana creampies a day just so I could keep my head and hands." He teased and chuckled in an attempt to soothe.
But it had the opposite effect.
In the mind of a five-year-old, he thought you developed monster teeth or something and tried to chomp off parts of his dad. "No!"
Megumi's tantrum ended when the both of them entered the kitchen to see you going through the cabinets in search of your craving. "Momma!" He cried when Toji sat him down so he could walk to you.
Pregnancy made your emotional state ten times more sensitive and hearing your son call out for you made your eyes burn with more tears as you turned to look at them with a sad smile. "Did I wake up my babies? I'm sorry honey." You murmured and ruffled his hair.
Toji came in closer but was sure to keep a distance as he scooped Megumi up again. "He came in saying you were cryin' and we can't have that. Do you need some more of whatever you want?" He asked.
You sniffled and looked at Megumi then your husband.
"If you don't mind...I'd love you forever." You said in a teasing tone watching your husband shake his head playfully before setting his son down gently.
"You already love me. Get in bed with mommy and I'll be back."
Forty-five minutes later you and Megumi welcomed Toji back with open arms when he settled in the bed with your son in the middle as he passed the snacks out between the three of you.
His life feels so complete with the both of you, for the longest time Toji truly didn't see a reason for living or doing anything good until he met you that is.
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a-hazbin-reader · 4 months
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism
Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader
When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before
He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it
Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze
Mmmmmm glazed hearts
Great now he's hungry
ANYWAYS-
Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside
Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him
"Mm...good morning my dear..."
Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel
You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown
You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting
You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes
Just. No.
Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath
"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."
How can he say no to you?
He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair
The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌
He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT
Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping
WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN
Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo
You're so good to him how did you know he needed this
Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering
He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat
Though he pretends it's a big hassle
He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him
Bby boy that's all you do is think about him
He locks the door on your way out tho
Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child
You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you
"Alastor..."
Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice
When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you
He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for
"Look at me, darling~"
Okay maybe just a quick glance-
Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-
Ffffffffuck.
Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes
Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek
Not his tail fluttering
"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."
And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell
Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him
Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too
But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came
He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic
Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-
If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down
Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears
Wakes up drooling
Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent
How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????
Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??
When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone
The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways
The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him
You spoil him
Alastor thinking of his wife:
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bbyjackie · 8 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐄'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡
one piece social media + dating pt.2 feat: ace
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♡ liked by chef.thatch, marco_o and 11.4k others
_ynln: mad he lost a handstand contest to some kid 🥱🥱
tagged: ace
ace: tell me how i got rated a 6/10 and that rat of a human got 9/10 🫤
↳ marco_o: you definitely got bullied as a kid with that attitude (liked by chef.thatch, _ynln, yamatoto)
↳ _ynln: MARCO JWVFIJBVFQO 😭😭
↳ ace: just letting you guys know, i wasn't bullied. i was the bully 💪💪
↳ izou.u: that does NOT make it any better
↳ saaaa_bo: why are you proud of that, all you did was bully luffy
↳ ace: now i'm not saying i stand with bullying but.. ☝️
↳ yamatoto: BUT WHAT???
p1rateking_luffy: Hehe Ace remember when we used to have handstand contests and Makino was the judge! 😁
↳ _ynln: omg that sounds adorable
↳ ace: yeah and you would fall on your head
↳ ace: makes sense why you're so stupid
↳ p1rateking_luffy: what does that mean
↳ ace: see what i'm saying
↳ saaaa_bo: you're literally the last person that can say anything
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♡ liked by nicorobin, p1rateking_luffy and 9.6k others
_ynln: girls don’t want no scrubs!
[music: No Scrubs - TLC ♫]
tagged: lovenami, nicorobin
nicorobin: had so much fun with you 💗
↳ _ynln: I MISS U ALREADY
ace: YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL I CAN'T STOP LOOKING AT THESE PHOTOS 😍😍❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥💝💞💕❣️❣️
ace: I AM NOT A SCRUB GIVE ME A CHANCE!
↳ _ynln: stop i have a boyfriend
↳ ace: screw him, i'll fight your boyfriend
↳ _ynln: he'll mess u up
↳ ace: HE PROBABLY STINKS
↳ _ynln: yeah he does LMFAOO (liked by saaaa_bo, marco_o)
↳ ace: 😐😐
ace: PLEASE ONE CHANCE PLEASE 😩😩
↳ _ynln: YOURE SO ANNOYING 😭😭
lovenami: WHEN CAN WE HANG OUT AGAIN
↳ lovenami: I MISS MY HUSTLE PARTNER ALREADY
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♡ liked by iampops, sh444nks and 13.1k others
_ynln: i want to be that dog so bad
tagged: ace
marco_o: holy shit i've never been jealous of a dog
↳ ace: dw u can kiss me anytime 😘
↳ marco_o: bruh no i meant i want to sock you in the face
sh444nks: HAHAHA this is so good
↳ _ynln: omg i made it in life, redhair shanks commented on my post????!
↳ iampops: Yn I comment too
izou.u: first photo made my day, thanks yn
↳ yamatoto: real!!1!
p1rateking_luffy: AHAHHAHAH THIS IS SO FUNNY HAHAHHA
saaaa_bo: this photo is free therapy
ace: WOW THIS COMMENT SECTION MADE ME REALISE ALL MY FRIENDS ARE FAKES
↳ yamatoto: so glad ur self aware!!
↳ _ynln: love u i swear!
↳ ace: u r full of shit
↳ _ynln:❣️
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♡ liked by saaaa_bo, iampops and 18.4k others
ace: my pookie dookie 💩 💗
tagged: _ynln
_ynln: words can't explain how much i hate that caption
↳ ace: my sweet white mocha frappuccino with two pumps vanilla, chocolate drizzle and one scoop of java chips
↳ _ynln: omg wow i was so close to pressing the block button
_ynln: rare photo of ace w a shirt on ‼️
saaaa_bo: @_ynln blink twice if u need help
iampops: W photo 💪
↳ ace: POPS WHAT
↳ marco_o: WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT
↳ iampops: Big slay ☝️☝️
↳ iampops: Yn no cap 🚫
↳ izou.u: someone literally needs to come get their grandpa 😭
↳ _ynln: pops using colloquial language needs to be protected in a museum (liked by ace)
p1rateking_luffy: Yummy food 😋😋
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munsonluhvr · 2 months
Text
WATERWORKS!
synopsis: older!eddie munson x college student!reader. out on a joyride, Eddie subsequently passes your sorority car wash fundraiser and decides his clean car desperately needs to be washed. word count - 4.5k (!) warnings: 18+ smut with a teensy plot. fingering, body parts described, choking, spanking, squirting, cream pie, age gap, not spell checked yet!
In all honesty, Eddie has no reason to be pulling into your sorority houses’ driveway, forking over twenty dollars for you to wash his car, but he knew he had to when he saw you. It’s a warm day, just a few days after the end of summer, only a few days into the new school year. The hot sun beats down the earth making it the perfect day to stand in a bikini all day, hosting a car wash fundraiser. 
Eddie had been minding his own business, taking a joy ride in his new red corvette, enjoying all the progress he’s made in his life thus far. It was only a half hour into his day out and about when he noticed your sorority hosting a car wash, more specifically seeing you stand at the edge of the sidewalk with a sign that read: ‘Car Wash 4 A Good Cause; 20 Bucks or Free if UR Sexy!’ It was the sign that caught his attention first, but it was you that held his gaze long enough that he almost rear-ended the car in front of him.
You are a sleek little vixen, barefoot on the sidewalk, your drenched hair pulled back to show your beautiful, angelic face. You are hardly dressed, your body adorned in the skimpiest bikini Eddie had ever seen. It was a no brainer; he slows his car, flicking the blinker on to turn into the driveway. 
Eddie’s car was pointed in the direction of commotion, lines and lines of cars parked in different directions, males of all different ages scattered across the front yard either talking to girls that  suggestively scrub their cars or just watching from a distance. Eddie didn’t care about any of the other girls that flock to the cars, slipping folded bills into their bikini tops or bottoms. He just wanted to watch you bend over his car, breasts pressed against the hood of his car.
He watches, in his sideview mirror, as you wipe your forehead with the back of your hand, your arms dropping down with the handmade sign, your body wilting with exhaustion. It was hard work to wave a sign around, especially in the hot sun. All you want to do is sit inside with some water, far away from the seething hot sun. 
You’re bored, annoyed with cars honking and men whistling; you didn’t want to be the one holding the sign, but you had been forced to by the other girls. You decide to take a break, and you turn on your heel, beginning to walk up the driveway to the front lawn where the rest of the sorority worked. It was then that you notice a bright red corvette, clearly brand new, and that the driver was glancing over at you. You watch as he offers you a small smile, his hand that dangles on the outside of the car pick itself up and offer you a wave. He’s cute, clearly older, late twenties, early thirties at the latest. You feel your day, and your energy, start to pick up. 
Within a few paces you stand at the driver’s side of the stranger’s car, bending forward, placing your hands on your mid-thigh, as you peer into the car. “Here for the car wash?” 
The curly haired man nods, his eyes lingering down your nearly naked body. “That, amongst other things.” 
You smile innocently. “Doesn’t look like your car needs to be washed.” And it’s true; as you stand close to the car you see how it’s practically new, not a speck of dirt on the exterior, not a single scratch. Standing close to the window, you can also smell the scent of brand-new leather, the car barely lived in.  
He shrugs, his eyes looking forward then back to you. “A car can always use a good wash. I’m Eddie by the way.”
You raise your eyebrows, already amused by the man in front of you. “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m y/n. If you pull up, I’m sure one of the girls will happily wash your car.” 
Eddie hums, glancing in front of him where tens of girls scantily clad in bikinis, soap suds clinging to their arms and legs, scurry across the sorority house lawn to attend to the ever-growing line of customers. “They all look pretty busy with cars already. Can’t you help me?” 
You clasp your hands in front of you, understanding, now, that Eddie wants you to clean his car, not anybody else. You purse your lips and make an over-exaggerated sigh, though a hint of a smile is displayed across your face. “I suppose I could. Pull on up.” You gesture for Eddie to follow you up the driveway, searching for a free spot for Eddie to park his car. 
As you walk, Eddie is lucky that he doesn’t run his car into someone else’s as his eyes are completely entranced by your ass that’s exposed in your bright yellow bikini bottoms. He clenches his jaw, doing the best he can to park where you gesture towards, as he feels himself grow hard in his jeans. The lust he feels, staring at your nearly naked body, cloaked in a light sheen of sweat, is unbearable. 
“You can stay in the car if you want,” you say, watching Eddie move to step out of the car. “It’s kind of the whole point of the car wash in the convenience for the customer, you know? Pull in, get your car washed by a girl in a bikini, then pull out.” 
Eddie shrugs, closing the driver’s side door. “Darling, I wouldn’t want to pull out, but I think I’d prefer to watch from outside of the car.”  
You feel your cheeks flush, the back of your neck get hot with heat. All day, boys from the surrounding fraternities, or creepy, married men have been in and out of the sorority driveway. However, there is something about Eddie that’s so edgy, nerdy yet confident. Eddie is a refreshing change; one you want to entertain for a little while. “Suit yourself,” you say, as you bend over, dunking your hand into the bucket of cold, soapy water, then pull your hand out with a sopping wet sponge. 
Eddie stands a foot or two away from you, his arms crossed against his chest. He watches closely as you pick up a super-sized sponge, bubbling with soap bubbles, dripping with water, and smudge it across the hood of his car. His heart thumps against his chest watching as water trickles out of the sponge, down his shiny red car, and dribbles down your thighs. 
You move slowly, bending across his car further and further, as you work hard to scrub the imaginary dirt off his car. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your body, knowing his eyes must be as wide as saucers, his skin crawling with lust, his stomach churning with anticipation - you just have that impact on men. You move to the opposite side of Eddie’s car, working on the other side of the hood. Now you face Eddie’s direction, making a show of leaning over his car, once again, pressing your breasts against the car, flicking your eyes to meet his only for a fleeting second, enough to get his heart rate up even further. 
Once you turned your eyes back to his car, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, suddenly feeling disoriented. Was it the sun and the heat or was it you that was making him feel this way? It had been a long time since Eddie pursued a girl, he was never very good at it. He had a small sense of confidence, but that only got him so far. Now, he’s several years older, still unexperienced, yet here he is, letting you seduce him happily, not knowing if he’ll do anything about it. 
You continue to work on Eddie’s car, making your way around his vehicle. Every move, every stretch you make is calculated, made to manipulate the male mind. It’s fun, you think, to put on a show for a boy, no a man. It had been so long since you been intimate, the boy you were surrounded by were useless, only out to use the female body to solely pleasure themselves. The act of being fucked boys that were in college was a cold venture, one that only left you feeling alone and empty – and certainly not feeling any pleasure at all. You had hoped you’d meet someone older, someone who would care about how you felt. Now here stands Eddie, clearly older, clearly into you by the way his cock is so clearly pressing against his jeans, and the way he makes no attempt to hide it. It’s worth a try, you think. 
With one last swipe of Eddie’s car, you take the hose that snakes throughout the driveway and spray his car down. Lastly, you take a soft towel, wiping the small droplets from his windows. You were finally done, your body more exhausted then before. 
When you turn your attention back to Eddie, he’s holding out a twenty-dollar bill. “I think I recall your sign saying it’s twenty dollars.” 
“Then you’d also recall that the sign also said it’s free if you’re sexy, so you can keep your money,” you say, wiping your wet hands on the towel. 
Eddie frowns lightly, then smirks. “All that hard work you just did for free?” 
You shrug, mimicking the way Eddie shrugged earlier. “What can I say? I’m eager to please, especially for a pretty guy like you.” 
Standing in front of Eddie, you see the size difference between you two. You’re shorter then Eddie, your body much smaller than his. Even from where you stand, you can smell his cologne, the scent making you salivate – you’re a sucker for good smelling cologne. He’s dressed in all dark colors; his body lean underneath his fashionably tattered clothing. It was then you realize that you want him bad.
“Oh, really? For an old guy like me?” Eddie says, interested to gauge your feelings on older men. He is sure you’re constantly approached by guys of all ages, constantly turning heads or breaking hearts. 
You lean against his car, crossing your ankles and crossing your arms against your chest. “It’s even better that you’re older. Guys my age don’t know anything about how to please a girl,” You unfold your arms, making a show of glancing at your fingernails. “Emotionally or physically.” 
Eddie gulps, scenario after scenario rolling over in his mind Thoughts of every position he wants to fold you in to in a matter of minutes, replacing the soapy water trailing down your legs with ropes of his own cum comes to him immediately. “A girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be neglected emotionally or physically.” 
You glance at Eddie now, knowing that you have his full attention. “Tell me about it.” 
Your eyes linger on each other, tension as thick as the heat hanging between you. You forget that the rest of your sorority is hard at work around you, cars entering and exiting the driveway consistently. All you can focus on is Eddie. “You look parched,” you say suddenly, pushing yourself off his car. “Why don’t you come inside.” 
Eddie nods without saying a word. He’s pretty sure he’d walk to the ends of the earth for you. Eagerly, he follows behind you as you weave through the cars parked in the driveway and across the lawn. You glance over your shoulder once, amused to catch Eddie’s eyes stuck on your rear end once again. You have this man wrapped around your finger. 
You push open the front door of the sorority house, noticing how a few of the girls had sought refuge from the customers and heat within the kitchen and cavernous living room. Eddie’s eyes disconnect from your body to look around the house. He honestly never thought he’d ever find himself in a sorority house, he could never imagine a sorority girl giving him the time of day. But here he is- here you are. The inside is large, all the furniture in the rooms dwarfed by the tall ceilings and large rooms. 
“Come this way,” you say softly, gesturing towards the large, winding staircase that’s directly at the front door. Your feet are tempted to carry you to your room quickly, but you do your best to stay composed, not allowing yourself to showcase your eagerness. At the top of the winding staircase, the hallway to the bedrooms is long. As you walk, you pass door after door, each of your sorority sister’s rooms. Finally, you reach yours near the end of the hallway. 
You remember that your room is messy, but you don’t care. You doubt Eddie would even notice; you can feel his eyes glued to your backside. 
You open your bedroom door, glancing over your shoulder to encourage Eddie to follow you into your room. You notice his eyes flick to across your bedroom, landing on your messy bed, the blankets, and bedsheets all tangled. 
Eddie clears his throat. “Is it okay if I’m up here?” 
Technically, boys aren’t allowed in the sorority house, especially not in the bedrooms. You shake your head softly. “No, but I’m sure we can make it quick.” You let a small smile play across your mouth as you clasp your hands in front of you. 
Eddie’s eyes widen, your insinuation making him realize your intentions loud and clear.  Underneath his jeans, Eddie can feel his bulge begin to ache even more, his core aching from anticipation. Even you can feel the tension between you and Eddie, it’s clear you find each other attractive. Between your thighs, you can feel your stomach tingle with excitement; what kind of pleasure this encounter hold for you? 
You back yourself up to your bed, feeling a small chill standing in your airconditioned room in a skimpy bikini. Your heart thumps against your chest, your breath escaping your body. Eddie takes a small step towards you, biting at his bottom lip. You are the loveliest sight Eddie has ever seen, so delicate and soft but he so badly wants to be rough with you, turn your body inside out with pleasure. 
Now merely a few inches from each other, Eddie reaches his hand out, his fingertips brushing against your cheekbone. His fingertips tails across your face, guiding their way to your lips. Instinctively, you part your lips, Eddie taking advantage and slipping his thumb into your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. Watching you suck his finger, Eddie loses his breath, the feeling of your tongue around his finger too much to bear. 
You take the opportunity to reach your hands out, playing with the hem of his t-shirt. You lift up slowly, and Eddie lets his thumb slip out of your mouth, helping you lift his shirt off. Now you see his torso, his soft skin decorated with scattered tattoos. Your mouth salivates at the sight of his happy trail, disappearing into the band of his jeans. 
You lean forward, raising up on your toes to let your lips hover of Eddie’s. Without a second thought, Eddie cups your face, his lips pushing into yours. He steps forward once, twice, and you step back once, twice. You gracefully fall back onto your bed, your legs parting to allow room for Eddie. With one swift movement, Eddie reaches his hand behind your back, pulling at the string of your bikini, the string unraveling and your top slipping off. 
At the sight of your bare chest, Eddie can’t help but groan. He cups your breast with his large hand, his head ducking down to let his lips envelope your nipple. Instantly, your head throws back, the feeling of his tongue flicking across your nipple heavenly. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your lips parting just in time for a soft moan to escape from your throat. 
Letting his fingertips drag across your torso, Eddie slips his hand into your bikini bottoms, his fingertips grazing your cunt. You hold onto his shoulder for balance, your fingers gripping him tightly. With ease, Eddie continues to place his body over yours, arranging yourself on your bed comfortably. Anticipation and lust begins to bunch in your stomach, arousal beginning to drip from between your thighs. 
“You’re so pretty,” Eddie mumbles, his mind spinning. He places his lips on your jaw, messy kisses trailing down the front of your throat. His fingertips begin to work against your sensitive core, teasing your entrance. Your thighs tremble, pressure building in the bottom of your abdomen. Eddie’s movements are slow and sensuous, and your hips begin to rock back and forth against his hand, unable to take his slow movements any longer. You begin to whine softly. 
Without warning, Eddie plunges his long digits into you, curling in the right spot to turn your whine into a loud moan. Already, you can see the difference between the ridiculous college boys you’ve played with and the man that Eddie is. Pleasure courses through your torso, your skin tingling, a shiver running down your back. Your thighs begin to clench around Eddie’s hand, begging him to keep going. 
Your arms reach out, your fingertips seeking eagerly to unbuckle the belt that holds his jeans. With success, Eddie’s belt buckle unravels in your hand, your hand moving away to palm his bulging cock over his jeans. Over you, Eddie shutters at the sensation of your touch, his breath leaving his body. He so badly wants to have his way with you, but he knows he’d rather take his time. 
Not able to sustain your calmness further, you unzip the zipper on Eddie’s jeans, his cock already pressing against his boxers. As you attempt to work his jeans off, Eddie continues to plunge his finger deep into you, causing your ambition to de-clothe Eddie to take longer then usual. 
Just as Eddie jeans dip passed his mid-thigh, his cock springs out from underneath his boxers. His member is large, larger then you could have ever imagined. At the very tip, a drop of pre-cum slithers out, the veins protruding across the thickness of his cock. Your mouth waters just at the sight, an intense need for him to fill you blossoming in your abdomen. 
To be able to help you pull his jeans off, Eddie lets his fingers slide out of you, your bottom half feeling empty and incomplete without Eddie’s touch. With one swift movement, Eddie’s jeans and boxers are off and all that’s left is your bright yellow bikini bottoms. 
Eddie presses his lips on your neck, and begins to trail down to your stomach, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath his light touch. Hooking his pointer fingers at your sides, Eddie gracefully pulls your bottoms off, leaving you completely naked. Without much thought, Eddie drops the skimpy article of clothing on the floor beside your bed. You blush in your nakedness, feeling your eyes flutter shut. 
Eddie parts your legs gently, lowering his head towards your bottom half. His warm breath flushes against your skin, goosebumps beginning to appear down your thighs. With every second that goes by, the anticipation grows thicker, leaving you breathless, arousal gathering between your thighs.
Eddie feels his anxiousness jitter throughout his fingers, his hands trembling ever so slightly. His hands tighten around the flesh of your things, prying your legs open. Without the slightest hesitation, Eddie lets his lips connect with your slick cunt, his tongue beginning to work on your immediately. 
Your head throws back in instant pleasure, your thighs beginning to tremble from the motion of his tongue. You begin to writher underneath Eddie’s touch, and he tightens his grips around your legs to hold you still and in place. Your toes curl as he continues to go on, your muscles tightening and releasing rhythmically.
Eddie is in bliss, the taste of you sweet to his tastebuds. You are so soft, so gentle, yet so bold and in charge. Although Eddie doesn’t know you well, not even at all, he knows that he has found heaven between your sun-kissed thighs. 
Eddie blinks back into consciousness, noticing how your body is reacting to his touch. He looks up at you, seeing how your eyes are fluttered shut, the bright sunshine from your window above your dashing across your face, your back arched from the pleasure. His only goal is to make you feel good, to let pleasure course through your body, so he does what automatically comes to his mind – he plunges his fingers back into you. 
A loud squeal escapes your lips, followed by your hands grabbing at your bedsheets. The frat boys have never made you feel like this before, not even close. 
With rhythm, Eddie plunges his fingers in and out of you, causing pressure to build in your lower abdomen. It’s only been several minutes and already you feel yourself getting close; you don’t want your time with Eddie to end.
Without warning, around Eddie’s fingers you squirt profusely, your thighs trembling around Eddie’s head. A strong course of pleasure runs up and down your body, leaving you breathless and exhausted once your orgasm is through. On the other hand, Eddie is energized by your loud moans.
Coming up from between your thighs, Eddie hovers over your slumped body, his large hand lightly grasping over your throat. He doesn’t want to scare you with this move, it is after all the first encounter you’ve ever had with each other, but he wants to take control a little more. 
His long nimble fingers place themselves around the length of your neck, and your eyes flutter open at his grasp on you. You feel small underneath Eddie’s touch, and you love the feeling. 
With his other hand, Eddie reaches down to part your thighs again, and then adjusting himself to line up with you. 
Eddie dips his face down, hovering over your lips; they brush yours ever so slightly. “Can I?” he asks softly. Your hand reaches out to grasp his bicep, anticipating the intoxicating burn of a thick cock entering you. You nod eagerly. Eddie lets go of his grasp on your neck, leaning on to his arm to position himself comfortably. 
With ease, Eddie pushes himself into you. You feel yourself stretch around his length, a slight groan escaping from your lips. You squeeze your eyes shut, seeing stars, a fluttering feeling emerging in your chest. 
Evenly, Eddie moves back and forth out of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. His fingers drag the length of your side, finding your hands in the process. He intertwines his fingers with yours, enveloping his hand over his. You squeeze back, the small gesture making the moment more intimate with this complete stranger. Your legs find the strength to wrap around Eddie’s waist, driving him further into you. 
With slow strokes, Eddie brings you immense pleasure, making you wonder why luck was on your side to meet such a generous stranger out of nowhere.
You and Eddie stay in the missionary position for a moment, slight eye contact here and there. You’re drawn in by the soft brown of his eyes and the darkness of his pupils. He was a beautiful human, his messy, curly brown hair adding to his attractiveness. 
You’re brought out of your thoughts when Eddie pulls his upper body away from you, your body feeling cold from the lack of warmth from his body. He pulls you up with him, making a quick movement to flip you on your stomach. 
Your head spins from the quick movement but feel a small smile creeping across your mouth: oh, how you love being manhandled. 
Lifting your hips with both hands, Eddie elevates your bottom half, placing you on your hands and knees. Once you’re in a stable position, Eddie guides himself back into you, pushing in roughly. You gasp, loving the feeling of him inside of you all over again. 
You jolt when Eddie places a small smack on your bottom, adding spanking into the mix. You offer a small giggle, biting your lip in the process. The sharp sting of his hand meeting your soft skin makes your stomach flutter in a way that’s never happened before. You find the feeling dangerous as you become curious at the other kinks you’d find exhilarating. 
Behind you, Eddie’s movements become rigid, his back-and-forth movements no longer fluid. He inhales sharply, his grip tightening on your waist. 
Eddie feels woozy, pressure building in his lower abdomen. He knows he’s close, though he doesn’t want to be. He wants his moment with you to go on forever, laying out on your bed to recover and when you’re ready, fuck you in all different angles all over again. 
He inhales and exhales sharply, his heart beating fast and blood flowing rapidly throughout his body. He pushes into you one last time, a thick load filling you to the brim completely. Eddie’s cum leaks out from around his member, beginning to drip down your legs. Although you’ve already orgasmed, the feeling of Eddie dribbling down your legs is nearly orgasmic. 
As you hold yourself up, your arms and legs quiver with exhaustion. You slump against your bedsheets, your muscles not about to help you sit up. “That was…really fun.” You say, then frown at your own words. You feel like you sound juvenile, though what you said was trust; it was indeed a lot of fun. 
Eddie smiles, nodding once. Although, he’s distracted by looking at the specks of his semen that decorate parts of your thighs. “I-I’m glad. Nothing I did was too much?” 
You shake your head. “Not in the slightest.” You watch as Eddie gets up from the end of the bed, beginning to pick up his clothes that are scattered across your bedroom floor. You wish Eddie didn’t have to go so soon but you know it’s for the best; the last thing you want is for your sorority sisters to notice that you’ve broken the most important rule – no boys in the bedroom. 
Your naked body captivates Eddie as he glances down at you while refastening his belt. It seemed like only seconds ago he was about to pass you by on the road, and now here you are lounging gracefully on your bed in front of him. And to think it all started with spotting you in your bright yellow bikini. 
“You know,” you hum, bending over to search for spare clothes to throw on. You really want to see Eddie again and to not let this be the first and last time you interact with him. “We’re having another car wash next weekend. Your car might need another scrub by then.” 
Eddie laughs flattered that you want to see him again. “My car will absolutely be dirty by then; I’ll for sure swing by.” 
2K notes · View notes
luvjunie · 11 months
Note
heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment
— 2:00 AM
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pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader
contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes
summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205
a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3
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Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.
He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.
He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.
It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.
He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.
Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.
He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.
He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.
The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.
He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.
“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.
You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.
”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.
“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.
You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.
“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”
Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.
”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.
“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“
“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.
“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.
You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.
“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.
“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.
“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.
“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”
He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”
His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.
“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.
Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.
“Miles?” you questioned gently.
Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.
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eddiesxangel · 2 months
Text
You Look Tense |Masseuse!Eddie x f!reader
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Cw: reader uses where/her pronouns, seduction, perv!reader, perv!eddie, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, unprotected, pull out, pet names (sweetheart, good girl) modern!eddie
wc: 2.9k
You were on a fold-out massage table in the middle of your living room. You downloaded the app to have a masseuse come to you on a whim. Your friend swore by it. You were a bit apprehensive about letting some stranger come into your home and rub you down while you were naked, but she said it was legit.
When you heard the knock on your front door, you didn’t think you would open it up to one of the hottest men you had ever seen. Leaving you staring at him with wide eyes and your jaw agape.
“You order a massage?” He smirks.
“Yea, sorry, um, come in.” You observe his dark blue scrubs as they hug his upper body.
You lead him inside to show him where to set up.
“First time?”
“What?”
“Is this your first time using the app?” he smiles. Taking off his coat, you notice his tattoos and muscular forearms.
“Oh, I’m… yeah.” You stammered because you were so distracted.
“I could tell, don’t worry. Things are strictly professional.” He explained.
Professionalism was not what you were worried about at this point. Quite the opposite, really.
After Eddie set up his things, he instructed you to lay face down, and then he left the room so you could strip and get under the white cotton sheet.
You called out that you were ready and heard his light footsteps entering the room.
“Anything specific you want me to focus on?”
“Um, my lower back and shoulders have been really hurting,” you mumble into the head pillow.
“Ok, great, let’s get started.”
-
His hands were like magic, the way he wasn’t too rough or too light. He worked your soar muscles perfectly.
“What’s got you so tense, sweetheart? Let me help you relax,” He spoke.
Relax?! How could you be relaxed with this extremely attractive man who is rubbing his hands all over your naked body in your own home!
And the voice! Oh god, his voice is so hot, you don’t want him to stop talking. It didn’t help that you were wound up in more ways than one.
“Um, uh…. Work, I guess.” You didn’t need to guess; you were drowning in the stress of your responsibilities.
“Well, don’t worry, I’m here to help with that,” he hummed as you heard the squirt of more oil fall into his large palms.
“Oh, yeah, your shoulders are so tense; that's a big knot.” You felt him shuffle, so he stood at your head. If you lifted your head up any further, you’d be face to face with his crotch.
You were trying too hard not to let out a moan as his strong fingers dug into your aching back.
“You gotta relax for me. Is the pressure too much?”
“No-no, you’re perfect- I mean, it’s perfect…”
Eddie let out a chuckle as he continued.
This was so good, too good, but he was right...You needed to relax. You tried not to focus on who was above you but on the feeling that he was giving you.
A few minutes later, you were successfully relaxing into the table.
“That’s it, very good,” he praised, and you let a moan slip out.
“Sorry,” you squeak.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. It happens all the time, and it lets me know I’m doing a good job."
Like Eddie said, he was keeping things strictly professional, but you were making it very hard, especially with that moan you let slip from your pretty lips.
Your skin was unbelievably soft, and you smelled really good. With this particular job, Eddie is used to all kinds of different clientele; he never knew what he was walking into when he got booked. So when you answered the door, he was very pleasantly surprised.
You stew in your own thoughts about how good this man’s hands feel, holding back the noises threatening to break the silence. The only sounds filling the room are Eddie’s feet shuffling, breathing, and wet, slippery skin.
“The best way to help with your shoulders is if I also rub down your neck and head. Are you okay if I get oil in your hair?” he asked again in that sexy, soothing tone.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” you sighed. Eddie smirks to himself again, knowing he is doing a good job.
“Great,” he shuffles to position himself to get the best angle. You feel as he sits beside you on the table, drapes your arm over his thigh, and uses his free hand to work at your neck.
His hand slowly works its way up, up, up until his long, thick fingers grip your hair, tugging on your scalp. His fingers dig into the perfect pressure points on your head.
You can’t help but let out another moan of pleasure; it just feels so good. You can’t stop your mind from going to an x-rated place, thinking about how good his hand feels tangled in your hair.
You couldn’t ignore your pussy any longer; there was no denying how wet you had gotten over the last half hour, and he hadn’t even made his way down to your lower back. How are you supposed to survive the rest of the time?
Your pussy was throbbing by the time Eddie made his way down to your lower back. You could feel Eddie move the sheet down lower, exposing more of your skin to him. He lightly draped it over your ass, careful not to expose it too much, trying to tuck the sheets into the band of your underwear, but to Eddie’s surprise, you weren’t wearing any.
You hear him clear his throat as he discovers that you are fully naked underneath.
“What side is, uh, bothering you?”
“Right,” you sigh. And I think I might have pulled the back of my thigh,” you suggest, hoping Eddie reads into it.
“Oh yeah, for sure,” he hums.
Eddie was in serious trouble, and the thin material of his pants did not help his situation.
Eddie had never grown hard with a client; this was not normal. He could not excuse himself until the session was over, so he hoped and prayed that his situation would defuse itself until it was time for him to leave.
It did not, you were torturing him, at this point you had to be doing this on purpose. Your moans were getting more and more sensual.
“Mmmmm, you’re so good at this,” you praise as his hands run along your lower back, creeping closer and closer to your ass muscle.
“So I’ve been told”
“Bet you’re really good with your hands in other places.”
Eddie froze. Did that really come out of your mouth, or did he hear things?
“You uh-" he cleared his throat, “-uh, said your lower back, right?”
“Yeah, but like, really low,” you hummed.
“You comfortable if I move the sheet, uh, lower?”
“Yeah,” you wiggled your hips slightly to encourage him to take things further. You cannot remember the last time you had been so turned on.
You hear Eddie’s breath hitch as you feel the fabric slip off your skin.
“Oops”
“Oh shit-”
“It’s okay; you can leave it off”
“You? Uh? Oh-okay” what was he thinking? This was not professional! It would get him fired if anyone found out… but how could they? He was in your home. You wouldn’t tell anyone? Against his better judgement, he decided to leave you exposed…
With your naked body exposed to Eddie, he continued to work on your lower back. Your oiled skin was glistening under each touch, and Eddie’s cock was growing by the second.
Eddie’s hands worked lower as he hesitantly yet excitedly explored the vast planes of your body. He hadn’t dared make a move, but you could feel his hands move closer to your inner thighs, so you partied your legs so he could have better access.
Eddie watched as your legs moved for him, your legs parted, and he had the perfect view of your glistening pussy lips.
Eddie’s eyes widened as he knew he had not even gotten close to that area of your body with the body oil.
With a deep breath, Eddie grazed his fingers closer to your upper inner thigh, right below your ass; the tops of his fingers lightly traced the outside of your lower lips to test the waters.
The last thing Eddie needed was to read your advances the wrong way and end up in jail.
“Mmmm, that’s good,” you hummed, encouraging Eddie to keep going.
“You need me to work on anything else?” Eddie asked suggestively.
“Now that I think about it, I pulled my groin the other day; I think you could really help me with that; you’re so good with your hands.”
“Sounds good, sweetheart,” Eddie hummed, shifting his weight to get the best angle. You felt him crawl up onto the table with you and straddle his legs around you.
His hands work your ass, massaging the muscles up, pulling your skin taught so he could see your swollen pussy lips.
Sucha pretty pussy
“Mmm thank you”
Shit, did Eddie say that out loud?
You let out a chaste breath as you felt his long thick fingers finally graze your wet slit.
Eddie gently massages circles onto your clit, and your hips roll into his hand.
“Mmmm, that’s it, relax f’me… this is what you needed, hmmm?”
“Uh-huh,” you sigh as your body fully relaxes into Eddie’s soft touch.
Eddie’s hand continues to work your fluttering clit before he decides to let an oiled finger slip into your hole.
“Oh, sweetheart, you are so tight, so tense. You should have told me earlier. I really need to loosen you up” he pumped his finger in and out of your pussy before curling his fingers to massage your inner walls.
“Maybe we could extend the session,” your breath hitches.
“I think that can be arranged,” he slips a second finger effortlessly.
As he continued to work your pussy he added his thumb to your clit. That familiar feeling of lust and need built up in your lower stomach as Eddie sped up his fingers.
“More,” you pleaded. You were at his mercy. You’d do anything to have him make you cum.
“I think I need to get in deeper,” he hummed.
You liked that idea; you popped up to finally see him. You watched as his pants slipped from his hips, and your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock staring you in the face.
“Like what you see?” He smirks as he watches you checking him out while he checks you out, seeing your naked breasts for the first time.
“Yeah, like what you see?” You ask back.
“Oh yes,” he leaned in to cup your face, bringing your lips together.
Eddie’s mouth took over yours, and he ravaged you. His plush lips were so soft as his lips explored your own. His tongue slipped into your mouth as his soft hands moved up your middle to kneed your breasts.
You shuffle back so Eddie can place himself between your legs.
“Need you now,” you spoke into his mouth between kisses.
“Want you so bad” Eddie replies.
“Please,” you begged for him.
Eddie stripped the rest of his scrubs and exposed the tattoos that dawned his alabaster skin. He was covered head to toe in ink. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, but the need to have him inside of you was more, so you widened your legs as far as they could go to expose yourself.
“Thought you said you pulled your groin” Eddie smirks
“Guess your magic hands healed me” You sank your hand between your legs so you were touching yourself, teasing Eddie as you worked your fingers in your needy clit.
“Magic hands, huh?” He replaced your hand with his.
“Mmmmhmmm,” you hum as Eddie kisses you and guides you to lie on the fold-out table.
“You think these are magic just wait and see what my cock can do.”
You gasp as Eddie slips the head of his cock across your wet lips, collecting your slick before the tip of his cock breaches your hole.
His cock was thick and long. Slowly, he stretched you out inch by inch. Sinking deeper and deeper until you enveloped him wholly.
Eddie watched as your pussy swallowed him, skin to skin, he didn’t even know you, but it didn’t matter; all that mattered was how you were making him feel and how he was making you feel.
“Oh, Eddie!” You cried as he started building up his speed, pumping into you.
“Mmmmm, I like how you scream my name.” You watch as his body pumps into you, his abs defining themselves with every thrust in. His big hands grip as best they can on your oiled skin and push your legs to your chest, folding you in half as he does.
“S’big,” you try and grab at Eddie, but he’s too far out of reach, so you ball your hands into fists and grit your teeth in frustration. You want to feel him, to touch him, to have all of him.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Wanna kiss you” you whined.
“Shhhh, you’re okay; as long as my dick is inside of you, you’re fine.”
“Oh fuck!” He sunk deep into you, faster and faster, his hips thrust his cock deeper into your needy cunt.
“That’s it, take it like a good girl.”
God, the mouth on this man, you had no idea.
Eddie gave in and leaned over to kiss you before he unexpectedly jumped off the table and flipped you over to your hands and knees.
“The only way I’m going to get as deep as you want, baby,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
“Just give it to me”
“Oh, asking to be fucked? Wanna be fucked by my cock, huh?”
You nod your head frantically as he aligns your hips to be at the perfect height for him to pound into you.
“Fuck look at that” he massaged your ass, spreading it apart before plunging his hard cock back into your throbbing pussy.
You let out a scream; Eddie was right; this angle was deeper, so deep you swore he was in your stomach at this point.
“That’s it, you can take it.” Eddie watched as your oiled skin bounced off his cock, and he swore he was in heaven.
Your tight pussy clenched down on him even more from the angle. The way your warm wet walls were hugging his cock, how your ass looked bouncing off his body, he could have come by now, but he wanted to hold off, savour this a little while longer.
Eddie reached round your body to massage your clit once more. His fingers were moving so meticulously while his cock was pouncing into you from behind.
“Faster” You grabbed Eddie’s wrist because his fingers were too slow; no way you would cum from them slowly circling your swollen clit.
Eddie listened to your plea and picked up the pace with his hands and his hips. Eddie was pounding into you so hard. If you were an outsider looking in, you would swear the fold-out table would have given out, but you were so cockdrunk you had no other thoughts than how Eddie was making you feel.
“You’re close, baby; I can feel the way you’re squeezing me; you’re going to cum when I say okay.”
“Can’t hold it, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad!” your upper body gives out, only making your ass arch higher for Eddie. He looks down to see the creamy ring form at the base of his cock as your orgasm threatens to take over.
“Hold on, on my count ok.”
“Mmmmmmmm” was all you managed to get out. Eddie s fingers still circling your clit, with his cock hitting your g spot. There was no way you were holding out any longer.
You wanted to cum so bad, but you also wanted to please Eddie, your friend, your hardest.
“Cum for me in…. 3….2….1, cum on my cock” he spoke between each thrust into you.
You listened and came as soon as the words left his mouth. Your body seized, and your mouth opened, but nothing came out as your silent cries were met with a wave of pleasure that washed over your whole being, soaking Eddie’s cock even more.
It could have been minutes or a few just a few thrusts later, you didn't know, but Eddie pulled out and finished, spreading his seed on your ass, which was somehow still perched in the air for him.
“Holy shit,” you hear Eddie whisper. “Definitely never done that before,” he laughed.
“Same,” you sigh, still fucked out.
Eddie picked up the discarded sheet off the floor and wiped off the remanence of his seed off of your ass and back.
“So, uh, that fix your problem?” He smirked.
“Only time will tell.” You sit back up finally with the sheet wrapped around you. “Maybe next time we will have you set up in the bedroom… You know, there is more space up there,” you smile.
“Next time?” Eddie smiles back.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll even cook you something, buy you dinner first.”
“I’d like that.”
Tags: @munson-blurbs @hunter-in-the-upsidedown @joejoequinnquinn @hellfirenacht @cinemabean @voyeurmunson @impmunson @asimpforthe80s @ali-r3n @take-everything-you-can @taintedcigs @trashmouth-richie @strangerstilinski @daisy-munson @bl00dy-hideout @babybimbo777 @lokis-army-77 @jamdoughnutmagician @sadbitchfangirl @mrsjellymunson @xacora @girlwiththerubyslippers @justiceforfoxface @katethetank @frogtape @cool-nick-miller @susie3334 @mrmiyagislittletrees @penguinsandpotterheads @eddies-acousticguitar @elvirasleftnipple @american-idiot-jpg @emo-taurus @ilovetaquitosmmmm @chloemm13 @gri959gri @seatnightsdea @faeriemunson14 @veemoon
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yam-writes · 9 months
Text
baby, show me what it's like
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
summary: you were honestly thinking about quitting your job as a secretary at a police station, but then a new hire made you change your mind.
word count: 11k
warnings: 18+, smut, subby!leon, rookie!leon, virgin!leon, oral (m!receiving), dirty talk, semi public sex, flirting, teasing, talks of masturbation
a/n: he's such a good boy <333 part 2? song from need to know by doja cat
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You stared down at the piles of documents in front of you. Part of being a secretary at a police station was doing all of the paperwork that the officers didn’t want to do. It was exhausting, just staring at a million tiny words, scrubbing through legal terms that you had to teach yourself what they meant, and signing initials and names that weren’t even yours on dotted lines. If you wanted to keep the job, though, you had to put up with it. They paid well and honestly you couldn’t be bothered to search for another job. Plus, it came with perks and benefits. 
It would’ve been an added bonus that you got to stare at men in their uniforms all day, but most of their personalities were so awful that you couldn’t even find them attractive anymore. They were only nice to you when they conveniently forgot that you had already told them you wouldn’t let them hit. They were gross and mean and tiring to be around. Honestly, only a few months ago, you were just about to give up and call it quits. 
But then they hired someone new. 
Rookie Leon Kennedy, fresh out of the police academy. He was the talk of the station for a week before he even arrived. Apparently he was the top of his class, strong, always hit the targets in the practice range, aced every exam, and blew the physical portion out of the waters. He was a diamond in the rough, an ace, good at everything he did and worked extremely hard to get better at whatever it was that he wasn’t already good at. 
To you he sounded like he was going to be just another asshole, so whenever you heard anyone talking about him, you just rolled your eyes. That included hearing some of the other secretaries squealing about how “handsome and attractive that new rookie is.” 
How wrong you turned out to be. 
You were sitting at the front desk of the station one Monday morning. You were vaguely aware that it was Leon’s first day, but you were swamped with paperwork, so you honestly didn’t think too much about it. That is, until you looked up when you heard the front door open and laid eyes on the cutest boy you had ever seen. Your mouth fell open slightly and you had to physically clench your jaw to make sure that it didn’t drop onto the floor. 
He had dirty blonde hair that was cropped around his ears, his bangs teetering on the edge of falling over his face. His brows were slightly furrowed, but his expression wasn’t mean on account of his chubby cheeks and soft jawline making him look so squishy. His eyes were full of childlike wonder as he walked into the station, looking around and checking out the area. He was tall, his body wide, his strength evident even through the uniform that he wore. His arms were danling at his sides, his fingers bending up and down, his thumb attempting to crack knuckles that didn’t need to be cracked. You watched his chest heave as he breathed through his mouth, his Adam’s apple bouncing as he swallowed. 
You really thought you were going to pass out. You felt your heart threaten to jump out of your chest in the most cartoonish way possible. You were positive that anyone who was around could see it beating through your ribcage, its fast beat pulsating your entire body. Butterflies built up in your tummy, shooting down between your legs as you watched him scan the area. When his eyes landed on you and he gave you a big, bright smile, you were sure that you were actually going to pass out right then and there. 
If your pupils could have transformed, they would’ve been in the shape of hearts as you watched him walk towards you. When he was almost upon you, you finally regained your composure and cleared your throat, looking down at the stack of papers. You grabbed them, tapping them against the desk in an attempt to pretend that you were straightening them out so that it looked like you were doing something other than ogling at this man. Your head was spinning as he finally reached you, your mind full of thoughts of all the things you wanted to do to him. 
“Hi!” he said, straightening up, raising his hand and giving a small wave before glancing down and then dropping his hand. “I’m Leon Kennedy.” He looked into your eyes, his lips twitching slightly as he did. A small crop of blush covered the apples of his cheeks and he dropped his eyes, looking down at the wooden desk and clearing his throat. 
“I’m, uh, new here,” he said, his voice getting more quiet and slightly breathier. As he spoke, he poked his tongue against his top teeth causing him to have a small lisp. You were immediately filled with an overwhelming urge to reach over the desk and pinch his cute cheeks. You felt like you were looking at a little puppy. You leaned forward, your lips curling up into a smirk as you tried your best to listen to what he was saying. 
“I was just hired, so, uh, I don’t really know what to do or anything…” He cleared his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly as he swallowed. “I’m kind of nervous,” he said, raising his hand to rub the back of his neck and huffing out a breathy chuckle. He looked up at you again, giving you a sheepish smile. 
If you were being honest, though, you weren’t really listening to him. You were tracing the cage of his throat with your eyes, noting the mole that laid beside his Adam’s apple as well as the others that were scattered around his face and neck. You were memorizing every mark on his face, every small acne that dotted his jaw and cheek. You were studying how his biceps fulled up his sleeves completely, thinking about how his big hands would fit perfectly on the curves of your waist. You were raising your pen to your mouth and letting your gaze travel down further, staring at how his thighs were squeezing around the fabric of his pants. You were chewing on the tip of the pen as you allowed your eyes to travel to the center of his body, picturing what he could be hiding behind the buckle of his belt. 
You did happen to hear him say that he was nervous, and that piqued your interest. You looked up, looking at his face that had gotten a lot more red. He was rubbing his palms against the sides of his pants, clearing his throat every few seconds. As you kept your eyes on his, you saw his lips part and then he moved his hands, clasping them in front of himself. You let out a small giggle, leaning forward even more, pushing your chest together with your arms as you leaned onto the desk. It was clear that he was flustered, and that only made the horny part inside your brain ramp up even more. 
“Don’t be nervous!” you said, looking at him up and down. He shifted his weight between his feet. “We’re all really nice here.” You lowered your voice, trying to make it sound as seductive as possible. 
Leon’s mouth fell open and you heard a small sound come out from his throat. 
“Of course!” he exclaimed, raising his hands out in front of him. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!” He cleared his throat and looked away, his eyes glancing down at your chest for a split second before widening slightly and shifting to the floor. “I-I’m sure you’re all very nice…” He raised his hand to rub the back of his neck, his cute face full of a look of slight embarrassment. You smiled wider at him. “I-I just meant… Well, I mean, I’m just a nervous person, I guess.” He let out another nervous laugh, and snuck a glance up at you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed, looking him up and down once again before leaning back in your chair. “Anything I can do to help you calm down, Mr. Kennedy?” You looked up at him with faux innocence. 
Leon stared at you for a second, his lips parting slightly. Thenn, he regained his composure and cleared his throat, shaking his head and chuckling at himself. 
“No, probably not,” he confessed, his voice breathy. He had a cute, boyish smile on his face, once that was full of actual innocence. You wanted to ride him until he cried. 
“I’ll calm down eventually,” he continued, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
You shook your head lightly, trying to reign yourself in. Leon was adorable, but you had to try and calm down. It wasn’t like you could just jump over the desk and ravish him- as much as you wanted to. 
“It was, uh…” Leon began, choking up on his sentence and swallowing. He turned even more red. “It was really kind of you to offer to help. And for being so nice. Um…” 
He had been looking into your eyes and you started licking your lips as you paid attention to him. The blush creeped down his face, covering his jaw and neck. He let out a small noise, which sounded almost like a whimper, as his body shifted. He cleared his throat once again and shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing at himself. He looked extremely flustered. You loved it. You smiled even bigger at him, watching as he swayed his arms back and forth, trying to hide the fact that he was covering the front of his pants. 
“If, um…” Leon said, trying to keep the conversation going even through his flusteredness. You admired his determination to keep talking, but you also figured he was just blabbering because he was so nervous. Either way, you couldn’t stop thinking about making him continue to speak even as you were touching his dick. Hell, you even wanted to get under a desk in the office that you knew he was going to get and blow him as he tried his best to keep a conversation going with the chief. 
“If everyone here is like you,” Leon continued, his voice breathy, obviously trying to push his words out of his mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your heart was in your throat, your tongue not staying still in your mouth as you licked your lips, pulling the bottom one between your teeth. “If everyone here is like you, then I think it’ll be a good job.” 
You looked up at his face, watching his breathing speed up and his eyes refuse to stay still. He was looking every except at you, but you could see him sneaking glances your way to see your reaction about what he had just said. His attempt at flirting… wasn’t very good. Rookie Leon Kennedy was awkward and nervous and shy. But something about him was so charming. His awkwardness was making your heart swell. His naivety and innocence was making your head spin. You wanted to get in his pants so bad, explore his body, make him feel better than he had ever felt before. You wanted to hear his shy moans and watch his hands twitch as he tried to keep himself composed, but ultimately failing. You wanted to tear him apart. 
“Mr. Kennedy,” you said, looking into his eyes and giving him a cheeky smile, “there’s no one else here like me.” You gave him a playful smile, tilting your head as you looked up at him to make your point clear. “You’ll figure that out soon enough.” 
Leon’s head nodded absentmindedly, his mouth open as he stared at you. He listened intently, reacting to all of your words. You already knew he would be such a good boy. 
“I believe you,” he said shyly, his voice low. He looked down, a small smile on his face. You had never seen anyone so red before. 
There was a beat of silence as you stared at Leon, watching his obvious nervousness. You raised the pen to your mouth again, chewing idly as you stared at him, undressing him with your eyes. After a few seconds, he flanked up, looking at you with big eyes through his lashes. His lips were pink and wet, and you felt the knots in your stomach tightening as you thought about how good he must be at giving head. You found yourself swaying, practically fucking him with your eyes. His body moved too, shifting, his face twitching and his nostrils flaring. There was something in the air, tension that he definitely didn’t know what to do with. You let it sit, enjoying the sight of him being so flustered. 
Then, far too soon, it was broken. 
“Kennedy!” a gruff voice said, pulling both of you out of whatever trance you were in. 
You turned your head, watching as the chief walked up to the desk and clapped Leon on the shoulder. He jumped slightly, clearing his throat and turning around. His face was shocked and nervous, obviously worried that the chief would catch him doing… whatever it was he was just doing. You were sure he didn’t even know, his mind racing about all the possibilities of what could’ve just happened. He was so cute.
“Y-yes, sir?” Leon said, ever so polite. 
The chief’s eyes shifted to yours, and a look spread across his face that you couldn’t quite place. You ignored him, though, only giving him a nod and a small smile as you sat back in your seat, turning your head back down to the paperwork in front of you. 
He cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to Leon. “Come with me, young man, I’ll show you around.” 
“Yes, sire,” Leon said again, nodding like an obedient puppy. 
His focus was now completely on the chief, intent on impressing him and doing his job well. As he listened to whatever stupid story that the chief was beginning to tell as they started walking away, Leon snuck as glanced at you. He gave you a small, shy smile and a nod of his head, and you returned the favor. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers at him, waving flirtatiously. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, turning his head away from you nervously. You giggled out, not taking your eyes off of him. 
You watched him walk away beside the chief. As he went, his hands didn’t leave the front of his pants. But clasping his hands in front of him didn’t stop his boner from being visible from the side. You saw the tent pitched in his pants, the fabric poking against his first in front of him. His bulge was… big, to say the least. It was obvious that he wasn’t even half hard; he was rocking a complete erection. He was obviously really sensitive. You hadn’t even touched him, had barely even flirted with him, and he was already squeezing his eyes shut to get his dick to go down. You could practically feel your mouth watering as you looked at it, your imagination going wild thinking about how big he had to be. 
When he had walked through a door and disappeared further into the building you finally looked away. You sighed, staring down at the paperwork in front of you. You let out a small laugh as you looked at it. Maybe I’ll stick around here a little longer, you thought, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. 
After that, you started enjoying your job significantly more. All of the paperwork and the annoying men were worth it because you got to see Leon everyday. You spoke to him any chance you could get, which honestly wasn’t a lot. He was busy going on patrol and sitting in on meetings and helping with small cases and whatever else rookie cops got up to. You caught him sometimes when he was coming into and leaving the station. Every time you would give him a big smile and a wave. He would always blush bright red and give you a shaky smile as he cleared his throat and looked away. More than once did you catch his breathing getting heavier. 
Still, though, at first you did try to keep a safe distance from him. You didn’t want to push any boundaries and make him actually uncomfortable, so you managed to control yourself enough to not pounce on him anytime you saw him. However, once you caught him staring at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, you decided that you could amp it up a little bit. 
You started making sure that you could run into him any chance that you could get. Instead of just giving him a smile, you spoke to him, keeping your voice light and breathy. You stood close to him, placing your hands on his arm, admiring how small they were compared to him. You leaned in close, pressing your body against his as you looked up at him through your lashes. You licked your lips as he talked, watching the apples of his cheeks turn red and his lips blush pink. You listened to the way his voice got breathy and watched as he squeezed his eyes shut and took deep breaths and got so flustered just from some heavy flirting. 
Admittedly, it was probably torture for the poor guy. You were really going hard with the flirting- calling him strong, telling him he’s so good at his job, complimenting him on everything, rubbing your hands on his biceps, tapping against your lips, fucking him with your eyes, and anything else that you could think of that would drive him crazy because you thought he looked so good when he was all flustered. You would drop things on the ground just so that you would have to bend down and pick them up in front of him. You even made it a point to get a bag of lollipops and suck on them, circling your tongue on the candy anytime he was around, making eye contact with him while still pretending to be as innocent as possible. 
It was obvious that he liked it. You could hear the way he got all nervous and you could see the way his hands got clammy and you noticed every time his eyes scanned your body, looking at every sensitive part of you. You saw the way he stared at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You even noticed the slight palming of his dick he did when he was sitting behind his desk as you spoke to the chief in front of his office. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed and he stared in anger as you spoke to any of the other officers. You saw his hands clench into fists and his face turn red as stared intently at whoever you were talking to until you glanced up at him. His face softened when he made eye contact, and he looked desperate for your attention, but he was still trying to be respectful. It was all so cute. Everything he did was so cute. 
It all built up over the next few months, and every time you thought about Leon you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together behind the front desk. You touched yourself to the thought of him, thinking about his rough hands grabbing your waist and his thick fingers thrusting in and out of you. You got off just by thinking about how pretty he would look lying flat on his back, his cock stiff and standing at attention, whimpering and squirming as you licked up and down his shaft, not letting him cum until you said so. God, you wanted him so fucking bad. 
A few months after Leon started working at the station, you had to stay late to finish up some paperwork that an officer shoved off onto you. It was a lot because the case was big, and even though he didn’t really do anything, he was getting all the credit for it, which meant lots of documents. Which, of course, meant that you had to be the one to do it. And, to make matters worse, he waited until the last possible moment to try and get it finished, so it all had to be written out and signed by the next day, which meant that you had to stay late. 
You didn’t want to take work home with you, so you got caught up in trying to get it finished before leaving. You didn’t even realize it was so late until you finally signed on the last dotted line and dropped your pen. You stretched in your chair, looking around at the empty station. Most of the lights had been turned off, so you sat in the dim lighting. Honestly, it was almost scary. You grabbed your phone and looked at the time- 11:38 pm. Jesus Christ, you thought. This took longer than expected. 
Your eyes were heavy as you pushed yourself back in your seat, grabbing at your things to gather them up. You were completely focused on packing up that you were only vaguely aware of the footsteps that you heard from behind you. You figured it was just the nighttime janitor or security guard walking around, but then you heard a voice that made all the stress of the day wash away from you completely. 
“Oh, you’re finished?” you heard from behind you. 
You immediately knew that it was Leon’s voice. You could pinpoint his even tone and deep range out of any lineup. You had spent the last few months memorizing the sound of it. You felt your heartbeat pound against your chest and excitement fill up your head. You turned around, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face as you faced him. 
He was standing in front of the desk awkwardly, shifting on his feet and fumbling with his own hands. He was looking at you, his eyes not staying in one spot, moving around as he avoided looking into your eyes. His eyelids were heavy and his hair was slightly flat. He looked tired, and honestly all you wanted to do was wrap him up in your arms and make him cum so hard so he could fall asleep. You wanted to play with his hair and rub his back and kiss his shoulders. You wanted to hide him under your blanket and keep him in your bed away from the world. 
You blinked, trying to pull yourself back to reality. 
“Yeah,” you said, giving Leon a friendly smile and sighing, gesturing towards the paperwork. “Just got done with all of this. It was a pain.” You let out a laugh and looked back up at him. You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow, looking at him quizzically. “What are you still doing here?” you asked. 
“O-oh,” Leon said, nervously. “Well, just, you know, the same as you. Getting some work finished.” You could see a few beads of sweat lining his forehead. He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. 
Your mouth twitched as you stared at him, your smile threatening to turn into something that wasn’t just friendly. 
“Well, isn’t it convenient that we got finished at the same time!” you exclaimed, teasing him about the fact that you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. You knew as much as the next guy that there wasn’t anything Leon could’ve been doing that would make him have to stay this late. You made a mental note to pry the true reasoning out of him later, but for now, you had something else on your mind. 
“Y-yeah,” Leon breathed out, letting out a huffy laugh. 
You let your eyes drift down his body. He had already gained some muscle weight since being there. He always wanted to stay on top of everything, working out and keeping his body exercised. If he was strong before, he was surely a brute now. It was so cute, though, because his body was so fit and toned, but his actions made him seem almost like a little kid. You wanted to just eat him up. Something inside you broke, and you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. It had been a long day. What better way to destress than to fool around with the most adorable boy in the world? 
“Hey, Leon,” you said, your voice peaking slightly. 
He perked up, looking up at you like a puppy whose owner had just called his name. You had to hold yourself back from jumping over the desk. 
“I was gonna go get a coffee from the break room before I left- you know, to keep myself awake,” you continued. Leon stared at you wide eyes as he listened intently. “Do you wanna join me?” 
Leon swallowed and let out a choked noise. He honestly looked like he was about to throw up, but he nodded rapidly and choked out, “Y-yes! I wanna come.” Then, his eyes widened in horror as he raised his hands and clarified. “I mean, I wanna go with you! To the break room. I wanna go.” 
You let out an adoring laugh and looked down, feeling your face blush from his words and actions. You nodded and then made your way around the desk, leaving your things lying on top of it. You stood beside Leon, his body language awkward, unsure of how to navigate the situation that he was in. You smiled at him. He was so endearing. You reached out and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, leaning against him. His body tensed up and you heard him hold his breath. You giggled up at him, and then began walking, pulling him along by his arm. 
You dragged Leon away from the front desk and down the hallway towards the first floor break room. You made casual conversation as you walked, asking him how his day was and smiling up at him as he stuttered out all that he got up to. He started rambling about his day, getting really into his words. You hung onto his arm as he waved his hand around, using them as he explained. He was really endearing, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your tummy- and this time you felt like they might mean a little more than just wanting to get in the boy’s pants. 
When you reached the door of the break room, you turned around and slid your hands down Leon’s arm, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the room with a smile. You watched him suck in a breath of air before you let go of his hand and turned around, heading to the coffee machine. As you reached the counter, though, you felt Leon’s presence behind you. He grabbed you, his fingers softly wrapping around your wrist. 
“I can do it!” he exclaimed, probably a little louder than what he meant. You turned around and looked up at him, a smirk tugging on your lips as you saw his face. His eyes were furrowed and his lips were pressed tight in determination. It was so cute how much he wanted to do this for you- something as small as making coffee. 
God, you wanted to choke on his dick so badly. 
You gave him a nod, not taking your eyes off of him as you said, “Thank you. You’re so sweet, Leon.” 
He looked down shyly, the corners of his mouth twitching. You saw him shuffle, kicking his feet lightly. 
“It’s no big deal,” he mumbled shyly. 
You looked at him in adoration, and then turned around. You sat down at the table, staring at Leon as he turned around and began messing with the coffee machine. You watched as his back flexed in his button down, the fabric stretching as he moved his arms. His shoulders bounced up and down. You were completely mesmerized. He had the most perfect body you had ever seen. Before you could stop yourself- not that you even wanted to- your mouth was moving. 
“You’re so strong, Leon,” you said, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. “All the other rookies they’ve hired have been like shrimp.” You let out a small laugh. 
You heard Leon let out a shuddered breath. He finished with the machine and then turned around. He looked at you, giving you a sheepish smile. He shrugged his shoulders, clearly embarrassed by the compliment. He looked down at the floor, only glancing up at you through his lashes. 
“I’m not really all that strong…” he said, a smile tugging on his lips. “I, uh, I mean I work out and stuff, but,” he let out a genuine laugh, his face lighting up slightly. He looked up at you, giving you a boyish grin. “I also like to eat,” he said, playfully. 
“I think you look good,” you said, matter-of-factly. You pushed yourself up and stepped over towards Leon. You kept some distance, but only a bit. You glanced down at his lips, licking yours as you did. 
“R-really?” Leon asked, clearly surprised. 
“Mhm,” you hummed, swaying closer to him, but letting your chests touch. You reached your hands out gently and slid them down his arms, giving his biceps a squeeze. “You’ve got really nice arms.” You looked up into his wide and nervous eyes, giving him a cheeky smile. “They’re so big.” 
Leon let out a choked noise and a small whimper. You watched his Adam’s apple bounce as he swallowed. You smiled at him, happy with where this was going and the fact that he wasn’t pulling away. You took the opportunity to lean closer, pressing your bodies together. You could feel his already half hard cock against you, and it took your breath away. The bulge was already big and firm as it pressed against your thigh, and you had to physically stop yourself from grinding against it. Instead, you looked up at his flushed face and gave him a reassuring smile. 
“Do you have anything else that’s big, Leon?” you asked, your voice teasing. 
Leon swallowed a lump in his throat and immediately started sputtering. “Uh… Um… I- uh…” 
He looked around, clearly trying to avoid eye contact. He was so nervous and flustered, so inexperienced and innocent. It was so cute watching him devolve into such a mess so fast. You wanted to ruin him even more. 
“Well, I, uh…” He cleared his throat, but it sounded more like he was just trying not to choke. “My, uh, m-my… My dick!” he finally said, looking at you with an attempt of confidence. 
You almost choked as he made his exclamation. You looked up at his face, seeing his obvious shyness that he was trying to force himself not to feel. You let out a laugh and pushed yourself away, looking at him up and down with a raised eyebrow. 
“You know, I really thought you were gonna say your heart,” you commented. 
“That too!” Leon proclaimed, shifting against the counter. He was barely leaning against it anymore, instead standing on his legs, slouching slightly so that he wouldn’t be as tall as he really was. You noticed he did that a lot. 
I’m gonna have to do a lot of work to get this boy’s confidence up, you thought, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 
You pulled back slightly, placing your hand over his heart, feeling the fast beating pound against your palm. He stared at you, his eyes wide and his mouth hung open. You slid your hand down his torso, feeling his tummy suck in as you glided your fingertips across it. You kept eye contact as you reached his pants, tugging on his belt. 
“Can I see?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
Leon nodded his head immediately, but then he looked away, his eyes shifting down to his feet. 
“I-I wanna show you, but I…” He took a deep breath, furrowing his brows, looking upset at himself. “I’m nervous,” he said, quietly. 
“Leon,” you cooed his name, tilting your head and looking at him with a face full of sympathy. “You don’t have to be nervous.” You didn’t move your hand from his belt, keeping your fingers shoved slightly behind it, feeling his tummy bump against your knuckles as he breathed hard. 
“I just… I don’t have much, uh, e-experience,” Leon stuttered, his mind moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. “So, I-I don’t really k-know what to- um- what to do…” He glanced up at you in anticipation, nervous for your response. 
Your heart swelled as you heard him. You really thought you were going to pass out. You knew that Leon was a little shy, but you didn’t think he’d have “not a lot of experience.” You just assumed he was one of those guys that got a lot of pussy because of how awkward he was. You knew it was working on you and he wasn’t even trying. You couldn’t believe that you were going to get to be the one to give him more experience, get to be the one to make him feel good, get to be the one to get him addicted to getting his dick touched. Your head was swimming, but you tried to stay focused. 
“Don’t worry about it,” you said gently, giving Leon a soft smile. “You don’t have to do anything except sit back and feel good.” 
He stared at you, his eyes shifting down to your lips as he licked his own. He took a deep breath and then asked, “Can- can I kiss you?” 
Your smile grew bigger when you saw the anticipation and excitement in his eyes. You moved your hands from his belt and raised them, grabbing his face. You felt his soft skin on your palms as you squished his cheeks together. His breathing got heavier as you leaned up on your tiptoes, pulling his head down to meet yours. You pressed your lips together gently, giving him a soft closed mouth kiss. You leaned back down, flat on your feet, and looked up at him with a small smile. 
“Whoa,” he said, his eyes wide, lost in the small kiss that you had just shared. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you…” 
“Why didn’t you?” you asked, a little pouty. 
Leon scoffed, but he looked at you with a grin on his face. “Because I’m a gentleman.” 
“Does a gentleman pop a boner every time he sees me?” you teased. 
Leon’s mouth fell open in surprise and he instinctively covered his hands over the center of his pants. It was obviously too late, though. You already knew he was hard and you were getting almost desperate to pull it out of his underwear. 
“You noticed that?” he asked, his voice raising an octave in embarrassment. 
“It’s kind of hard not to,” you said, chewing on your bottom lip as you let your eyes trail down his body to the bulge in his pants. 
“I-I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, shifting against the counter. 
You shook your head reassuringly, reaching up and placing a hand on his cheek. He leaned into it, nuzzling slightly as he looked at you shyly. 
“I think it’s cute,” you said. “You’d always get so worked up and all I would do was flirt with you a little.” You eyed him, looking at him up and down, staring at the bulge once again. You lowered your hand from his face and slipped your fingers behind his belt, wiggling them against his lower tummy. 
“I bet you’re really sensitive, yeah?” you said breathily, leaning towards him, ghosting your lips together. You looked down at his pink wet lips, your eyelashes fluttering against his skin. “Can I find out?” 
Leon swallowed and nodded, his eyes wide as he stared at you, seemingly in a daze. 
“P-please,” he pleaded, his voice bordering on a whimper. 
You gave him a big smile and then leaned up, placing another kiss on his lip. This one you made sure to heat up, opening your mouth slightly so that you could run your tongue along his lower lip. He whined as you did, and you took that opportunity to push your tongue inside his mouth. You felt his hands move as he let out a gasp. He grabbed your waist, digging his fingers into your skin. He kissed you back, pushing his tongue against mine, trying his best to assert some kind of dominance. You wrestled your tongues together for a few more moments, but when you felt his cock twitch against your tummy, you pulled away. 
You gave him a mischievous smile, looking at his flushed face and his swollen lips. His eyes were big, his pupils blown out. He was breathing hard out of his open mouth, staring at you in admiration. You raised your eyebrows at him as you lowered yourself down, getting on your knees in front of him. You heard him let out a choked sound, and he squeezed his eyes shut, looking away from you. He let out a small whine and accidentally bucked his hips. You smiled more, raising your hands to grab his hips, holding him still. 
“S-sorry,” he said. “You j-just…” He looked down at you, his mouth hanging open as he continued to breathe hard. “Fuck, you look so good. Oh, my God.” He closed his eyes and looked away again, his chest heaving. “Oh, my fucking God.” 
You let out a giggle as you moved your hands back to the center of his pants, beginning to unbuckle his belt. 
“I didn’t peg you as someone who swears so much,” you teased. 
Leon shook his head, still keeping his eyes squeezed shut. You watched him bite his lip as he tried to suppress his whines. 
“Not usually,” he said, unable to make proper sentences. “Sometimes. Right now.” He opened his eyes and sighed. “You look really… pretty.” 
“Imagine my view,” you said, pulling open his belt and messing with the button. He sucked his tummy in. “A pretty boy all blushy up above me? So nervous he doesn’t know what to do?” You undid the button and zipped down the zipper, pushing the flaps of his pants back before looking up at him to sell home your next point. “It’s like I just won the lottery.” 
Leon let out a whimper and shook his head, reaching his hands behind him and grabbing the counter. 
“Can’t say that stuff to me,” he said, his voice breathy. “Too nice.” 
“You’re such a good boy, Leon,” you said. “I gotta be nice to you.” 
You turned back to the center of his body. You pushed the flaps to the side more and shoved his pants down slightly around his hips. He sucked in a breath of air as his hard dick sprung forward against his underwear. You smiled, watching as it twitched against the fabric. You leaned forward, pressing your lips against where his tip would be, shoving your tongue against the wet spot that he had made. 
“Holy shit,” he breathed out, his hands gripping the counter even tighter. His fingers twitched and his chest heaved. 
You continued to press your tongue against the wet spot on his underwear, licking at his clothed tip as you held onto his hips to stop him from bucking them. You moved one hand and gripped the base of his dick, wrapping your fingers around it as much as you could over his underwear. You moved it slowly, sliding the fabric along the sensitive skin, no doubt sending friction spreading throughout his entire body. Leon moaned and whimpered above you, trying his best to keep himself quiet and still. 
After a few minutes, you pulled back, sliding your hands up and slipping your fingers into the waistband of his underwear. You shoved them down slightly, exposing the top part of his shaft as well as the crop of pubic hair. He sucked in a breath of air through his teeth, his fingers twitching. You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, watching his big reactions. A question popped into your mind and you had to ask. 
“Leon?” you said gently, getting his attention. He looked down at you, his eyes big and watery. He looked scared, like he might’ve done something wrong. “How much experience do you have?” you asked. 
A look of embarrassment immediately washed over his face. The blush that had just begun to disappear suddenly appeared even brighter. 
“N-not much,” he said, repeating what he had said earlier. 
You gave him a big, teasing smile. “Are you a virgin?” you asked. 
Leon let out a whimper, squirming. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked down at you, nodding his head. 
“Have you ever done anything?” you asked, feeling your heart beat fast against your chest. Getting to touch him in a way no else had, being the first person to touch his dick, running your tongue and hands all over the unexplored part of his body…? It made your head spin. 
Leon shook his head again, clearly embarrassed. He looked disappointed in himself. 
“J-just a couple of makeouts… It never went any further.” He looked at you, ashamed of himself. He tried to crack a smile, but you could tell he felt bad. “I guess I wasn’t any good.” 
“You’re so fucking adorable,” you said, your voice sincere. 
His eyes widened and his head shot down to look at you. He looked surprised that you had complimented him and genuinely meant it. 
“I’m gonna make you feel real good, okay, baby?” you said, your voice seductive. 
Leon nodded, his mouth opening and closing before he finally spoke, his voice small. “Th-thank you.” 
“Well aren’t you just so polite?” you said, glancing up at him before turning your attention back to his underwear. 
You shoved them down even more, pushing them down enough for his dick to spring forward. Your suspicions were right. Leon was big. It was long and thick with veins running down all around his shaft. The tip was bright red and leaking. His blush reached the base, ghosting lightly along his skin. He had the prettiest dick you had ever seen. The fact that he was just walking around with this having no idea what to do with it… Christ, your mouth was practically watering. 
You slid one hand across his pubic area, looking up at him to watch his reaction. He was trying hard to keep his breath steady. His eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was open, silent moans threatening to come out. You smiled at him, wrapping your fingers around the base of his dick and lifting it up. You pressed it against his tummy, watching the precum stick to his skin. You leaned forward and stuck your tongue out, pressing the flat part against one of his balls. 
Leon immediately let out a moan, low and breathy. 
“Fuck,” he whined through gritted teeth, his hands still clenching the countertop. 
You smiled, pushing your tongue against him even harder. You moved your head, pressing your face against his face where it met his balls. You licked up, running your tongue along his balls, pulling one into your mouth and sucking lightly before letting it out with a pop. As you licked at him, you felt the textured skin on your tongue, slight bumps from where he had just shaved. You couldn’t help but smile, finding it cute that even though he wasn’t getting any he still made it a point to keep himself groomed. 
Not that you would care if he wasn’t, to be completely honest. 
“F-feels so good,” Leon breathed. You glanced up at him, continue to lick his balls and the bottom of his dick. You moved your hand lazily, pressing the heel against his dick to grind into it. “Feels like I’m in f-fucking heaven.” 
You let out a breathy laugh, ghosting your breath along his sensitive skin. You pulled back, looking up at him as you began moving your hand a little more, beginning to properly jerk him off. 
“Imagine when I pop your cherry and let you put it in me,” you commented. 
Leon let out a gasp, gripping the counter tighter. His eyes opened and he looked down at you, his eyes wide. 
“You… You’ll let me?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. 
You eyed him. “Baby, I’ll let you do anything you want.” 
“Fuck,” he whimpered, squirming. “What if I’m not any good? N-never done it before…” He let his voice trail off, looking away, embarrassed. 
You chuckled. “Guess we’ll just have to keep doing it until you get good at it, yeah?” 
Leon whined, bucking his hips into your hand. 
“Gonna get you addicted, baby,” you said, lowering your head back down to his dick. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at the sensitive skin. You fisted his tip, twisting your wrist so that you could circle it. You felt the precum on your hand. You looked up at him through your lashes, your pupils blown out. You only had one thing on your mind- make Leon cum until he saw stars. 
“Gonna make it so the only thing you can think about is my mouth on your cock,” you continued. “You like that?” 
Leon whined, nodding his head rapidly. His fingers twitched at his side. 
“Already think about you all the time,” he confessed, his face blushing. 
“Really?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. 
He looked down at you, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. You moved your hand around his tip to keep him satisfied. He sighed a happy sigh, his lips curling upwards in a small smile. He nodded, clearly lost in his own world but still trying to keep up the conversation. 
“Did you… touch yourself to me?” you asked, a slight mocking tone in your voice. 
Leon nodded again, his face blushing even brighter. 
“Yes,” he whispered. “A… A lot. After my first day, I…” He gulped, taking a deep breath so he could keep himself composed. “When I got to my car I couldn’t wait. I jerked off in the parking lot and I accidentally moaned your name.” He shifted, shame written on his face. “I felt bad, but…” He opened his eyes to look down at you. His pupils were huge, almost completely overtaking his pretty blue irises. “But you’re just so pretty, I can’t help it.” He sighed, a small smile on his face. 
“Dirty boy,” you teased, leaning down once again to place little licks on his balls. You moved your hand more, rubbing your palm up and down more inches of his cock. 
“Only for you,” he breathed, his voice high pitched and whiny now. “Never anyone else. 
“Mhm,” you hummed against his shaft. 
“Wouldn’t let anyone else do this to me in the break room of my job,” Leon said, and then you watched as the situation seemingly fully hit him for the first time. His face fell and he looked worried. He looked down at you, slightly frantic. “Sh-should we stop? I mean, what if someone comes in…?” 
“No one’s here,” you mumbled, now completely focused on licking and sucking near the bottom of his shaft. “Don’t worry, baby. Just let yourself feel good.” 
Your words seemed to ease Leon, because he relaxed back against the counter. You looked up at him, seeing his perfectly content face. He looked like he was on cloud nine, in complete bliss. You had never seen someone so satisfied before and you hadn’t even wrapped your lips around his dick and taken him in your throat yet. Your head started spinning as you thought about how he was going to react to that. 
After a few more minutes, you finally moved away from his sensitive and overstimulated balls. You dragged the flat part of your tongue up the thick vein that lined the bottom of his cock. When you reached the top, you circled your tongue around his tip, lapping up the precum that was leaking out. It was salty and honestly didn’t taste very good, but you didn’t care. You snuck a glance up at him, hearing his whimpers and whines, clearly still trying to keep himself quiet. 
You slid your hand down his shaft, the side bumping into his balls as you finally wrapped your lips around the tip. He sighed, thrusting his hips forward slightly, accidentally pushing a few more inches in your mouth. You gagged, not expecting the sudden intrusion, but Leon didn’t seem to notice. He had raised his hand, shoving his palm over his mouth. His other hand was at his tummy, grabbing at his shirt to hold it up over his abs, the fabric balled in his fist. 
You raised your hand and grabbed his hips to hold him still as best you could. Despite you clearly having the upper hand, Leon was still a big man who was a lot stronger than you. When he felt your fingers on his hips, though, he melted into your touch. 
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, pushing his hips back and looking down at you. 
You pulled off of him, going back to licking his tip. You had spit pooling on your lips from choking a moment before, so you let it dribble onto his dick. You slid your hand up to his tip and gathered the spit on the side of your palm so you could rub his shaft easier. As you did, you leaned back down and sucked his wet tip into your mouth. 
“I’ll-I’ll try not to cum too fast,” Leon breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked like he was going to cry. 
You hummed around his tip, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. 
“I- uh,” Leon swallowed, trying hard to keep himself composed. “I’ll try to tell you when I do.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re supposed to do that, right?” 
You pulled off of him again, leaning back on your heels as you continued to jerk him off lazily. 
“It’s the nice thing to do, yes,” you confirmed, feeling a strange sense of pride at having to answer his question about getting a blowjob. 
Leon nodded obediently. “Okay,” he said, swallowing. He looked down, watching your hand move on his cock. His eyes shifted up, and he looked into yours. “I’m nice, yeah?” 
You gave him a big smile and leaned forward, placing a kiss on the underside of his head.” 
“You’re really nice,” you said, looking up at him, ghosting your lips against his sensitive skin. “You’re such a good boy, Leon.” 
He sucked in a breath and then let out a small whimper. His hips bucked slightly and you gave him a sly smile. 
“I’m… I’m your good boy, right?” 
“Fuck,” you whispered, feeling the wetness pooling in your underwear. You were so turned on, so horny that it was insane. You were willing to do anything to keep giving Leon head. 
“Yeah, baby,” you said, your voice growing a touch more husky and raspy. You leaned back down, placing open mouthed kisses against his shaft. “You’re my good boy.” 
“Do anything you say,” Leon whined. He kept his one hand grabbing onto his shirt, but he ran the other through his hair. “I promise, b-baby.” 
“I know, Leon,” you said, a small laugh leaving your lips. 
You looked up, taking in the sight of him. He was a wreck above you. His hair was messy and his face was red. His eyebrows were pulled down and his lips were parted, breathy whimpers coming out. 
“God, look at you,” you cooed, your voice low as you continued to kiss the side of his dick. “Standing there so pretty, letting me touch your dick however I want.” 
“Feels good,” Leon said, his voice a whisper. 
“I’d say,” you mocked, dragging out the syllable. You dragged your lips up his shaft until you reached his tip. “Make sure you let me know how good this feels, okay, baby?” 
Leon started to nod, his eyes heavy as he looked down at you, but he was quickly cut off by the feeling of you taking him inside your mouth. His body spasmed, his hips jerking, but you were prepared for his big reactions that time. You relaxed your throat, letting him buck his hips once before catching himself. His hands shot away from the counter and landed on your head. He didn’t push it, though. Instead, he rested his palm against the sides of your head. As you pulled back and lowered your head again, you felt his fingers twiddle against your ears and play with your hair. You smiled as much as you could. Even when he was in such a vulnerable position, even when he was getting his dick sucked for the first time, he was still there to make sure that you stayed grounded. 
You steadily took more of him, breathing through your nose. Leon’s scent was always strong, but being this close to him in such a precarious position made it intoxicating. Your head was spinning, your vision going blurry as inch after inch slid down your throat. Leon kept his hands on your head, his thighs and hips twitching as he tried to keep himself composed enough not to thrust in your mouth and fuck your throat as hard as he wanted. He really was big, but you were determined to take as much as you could. 
You felt him slide down your throat, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his dick as you bounced your head on it. He moaned above you, his mind completely engulfed in the blowjob. He had stopped worrying about being quiet, the way your throat was tight around his dick enough to make him let loose the whiniest whimpers you had ever heard. He sounded so pretty and so desperate. It was like music to your ears. 
The sounds Leon was making only encouraged you to go down further. You pulled back, kissing and licking his tip as you took a deep breath. Then, you grabbed his hips and lowered your head down, pushing his dick deeper down your throat. You felt the tip hit the back and you gagged, which only made him sputter, his entire body spasming. You thought for a moment that he was about to cum, so you looked up at him, only to see that he was already looking down at you. 
“Th-the whole thing?” he asked, his voice small. He looked like he was in a daze. You felt his dick twitch inside your throat. “Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” He tipped his head back, his tummy heaving as he breathed hard. You pulled back, licking underneath the head of his dick. You looked up at him as you did, watching as he went in and out of consciousness, looking at you with heavy lids. 
“Never ever thought I’d get your mouth around me,” Leon began, his voice high and breathy. He shook his head, raising one hand from your head to run his fingers through his hair. “Nuh uh, never ever ever.” 
You continued to slobber all over his dick, pushing your tongue against his shaft, licking anywhere that you could. You held onto his hips, pushing your thumbs into the skin underneath his hip bones. 
“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice gravelly. He sunk against the counter, his hand sliding down his body. He reached out, looking down at you with blown out pupils. He placed his hand on your cheek, pressing his fingers underneath your jaw. 
You rewarded him by wrapping your lips around his raging red tip once again, and any romantic moment he was feeling was washed away immediately. His face twisted into the beautiful pleasured face he had before and his fingers clenched, grabbing your ear. 
“Never thought I’d ever even get a chance with you,” he said. You looked up at him, watching him talk as his eyes stayed squeezed shut. You bobbed your head up and down sloppily. “Thought you were too good for me. Thought I’d just have to be happy working at the same place as you.” 
You let your eyes stare up at him. You pulled off, sliding his dick out of your throat and going back to licking at it as you listened to what he was saying. His face was turning red and his voice was getting breathier as he continued to babble. 
“Thought I’d just have to be happy jerking off to you,” he confessed. 
You hummed against his tip, placing a kiss against the slit and then pulling back, giving him a mischievous smile. 
“Can you tell me about it, baby?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. 
He looked down at you, shame and worry on his face, but his dick twitched against your lips. 
“Wh-when I was in my car, that first day, I-...” He swallowed hard as you went back to suckling on his cock. Your ears burned red as you listened to him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 
You moved one hand down and grabbed his cock, pushing it up so you could lick a long stripe underneath up to his tip. Leon breathed hard. 
“I- fuck!- I was so hard,” he grunted. Clearly he was finding it harder to get his words out by that point. “I felt like I was gonna pass out. I just… I just had to touch it. It was twitching in my pants and leaking so much…” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked hard, making his lips swollen. 
You circled your tongue around his for only a moment before lowering your head down, taking him in your throat. You grabbed his hips again, keeping him steady. It wasn’t working very well anymore, though. Leon was clearly close to his orgasm because his hips wouldn’t stay still and he wouldn’t stop talking. 
“I came so fast and I thought about you the whole time,” he moaned out. “I thought about you riding me and grabbing my shoulders and digging your nails into my skin.” 
Leon bucked his hips harder as you took more inches in your mouth. You flexed your throat, clenching around him as he stretched out your walls. His voice sped up and he sounded more and more desperate as the seconds passed. 
“Want you to mark me. Wanna have scratch marks and hickeys all over me.” Leon’s mind was moving fast, his mouth barely able to keep up. “Wanna let you do everything to me. Want you to… fuck, fuck, fuck. Want you to ruin me- holy shit!” 
Leon’s hands grabbed onto your hair, tugging hard as he bucked his hips. You held onto his hipbones, letting him fuck your mouth to his obvious near completion. 
“I’m gonna cum-! Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” 
It was only a few seconds later that Leon’s sudden fast movements were frozen, his cock buried deep inside your mouth. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted as he came down your throat, spilling thick strings out. 
His fingers loosened and his hands dropped to his sides as you continued to suck him off, milking all of his cum out. When there was nothing left, you pulled off, looking up at his hazy eyes as you swallowed down his orgasm. When it was down, you sat back on your heels and looked up at him, giving him a big smile. 
He looked like he was going to pass out. He gave you a shaky smile and then tipped his head back, breathing hard at the ceiling. You laughed, giving his thigh a pat as you pushed yourself up. Leon stayed leaning against the counter as you stood in front of him. You stared at him, watching as his eyes stayed closed and he kept a smile on his face. He swayed lightly, in his own little world full of bliss and post nut pleasure. He was practically glowing. 
You laughed again, shaking your head at him playfully. You reached your hands out and grabbed his dick. He only smiled bigger, letting you put his dick away and fix his pants. By the time you had gotten the belt back on, he seemed to be stable enough to keep his eyes open. He stared at you, watching your eyes move with a goofy smile on his face, his front teeth showing. You looked up at him, but had to quickly look away. He was making your heart flutter in a much more fluffy way than before. 
“What?” you asked, blush creeping across your cheeks. 
Leon shook his head, but his smile didn’t leave. “Nothing,” he replied, still eyeing you. 
“Why are you staring?” you squeaked, reaching out and giving him a slight push. 
Leon shrugged, looking away shyly. “You’re just pretty.” 
“Hey!” you said, reaching out and poking his chest. “You didn’t stutter.” You gave him a playful smile. 
Leon’s cheeks blushed and his smile got shy. He closed his eyes gently and let out a breath of air through his nose, his lips curling upwards slightly. He looked breathtaking. As you stared at him, thought, you saw his eyes open and a worried expression crossed his face. He turned his head and looked at you, almost frantic. 
“W-wait!” he exclaimed, reaching his hands out and ghosting his fingers on your arms. He pulled you slightly closer to him. “I can do you! I mean, I’ve never done it before, so I probably won’t be any good, but-” 
“Leon,” you said with a laugh, cutting him off. You patted his cheek, shaking your head reassuringly. “I wanna save you doing me for next time.” You gave him a sly smile, flickering your eyes at him up and down. 
“N-next time?” he asked, his voice small. 
You nodded, stepping forward. “Mhm,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pressed your bodies together, feeling his hands take place on your hips. They fit perfectly, as if that’s where they belonged. 
“I still have to let you put it in, remember?” you teased. 
His eyes widened and his hands rubbed around your lower back. 
“Y-” he began, but was cut off by a choke. He cleared his throat and continued. He looked around, lowering his head closer to you and whispering, his eyes wide. “You were serious?” he asked, his slight lisp shining through in his surprise and amazement. 
“Of course,” you chuckled. “You think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Besides, I gotta teach you how to make me feel good.” 
“I wanna learn!” Leon exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly, trying to show you that he really meant it. “I’ll try my best for you! I-I wanna make you feel as good as you just made me feel…” He looked away, clearly shy from his own words. 
You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. All you wanted to do was lean up and kiss him, so that’s exactly what you did. He froze for a second, but then you felt his body melt against yours and he kissed you back. You sighed into the kiss. This one felt… different. It felt more passionate and gentle. It felt like it meant something more than just two tongues wrestling together when someone was trying to get off. The butterflies went crazy in your tummy. 
You pulled back, looking up at him with a genuine and soft smile. He looked down at you, happiness in his eyes. 
There was a moment of silence as Leon’s eyes flickered around your face, studying you. Then, he sputtered out quickly, “Will you go on a date with me?” 
Your shock was probably written on your face, but you were just so surprised that he actually wanted to go on a date with you. You knew that Leon was shy and awkward, but he was still a guy, so you just thought… You just thought that all he really wanted was to get laid. He wanted to go on a date? Like… an actual one? 
“You want to go on a date with me?” you asked, your voice raising an octave. 
Leon nodded. “I wanna take you out. I want to… uh… treat you.” He looked away, his voice lowering. “I like you…” 
You felt your face turning red and you couldn’t look at him anymore. You looked at the floor, feeling shy. Your heart was beating fast against your chest and your hands were suddenly sweaty.
You nodded shyly. “I’ll go on a date with you. I… I like you, too.” 
“Holy shit,” he breathed out, sounding relieved. He couldn’t wipe a smile off of his face. His fingers flexed against your waist. He looked down at you, his face giddy. “Tomorrow? I-I’ll take you to dinner.” 
You nodded almost immediately. “Tomorrow sounds good. What time do you get off work?” 
“6:30.” 
You nodded absentmindedly, thinking about the options. “Okay,” you said finally. “I get off at 5. Do you wanna… meet me at my place when you get off?” 
“Sure!” he agreed. “And we can go out to eat.” 
“Yeah!” You gave him a smile. “Then when you drop me back off at my house, you can come inside.” 
He nodded, looking shy. “Sounds good.” He lowered his voice, then quietly added, “I’m excited.” 
“I can’t wait,” you said, giving him a smile. 
After that, you told Leon that you two better head out before the security guard caught you and you got into trouble. He agreed, and you both began walking back towards the front office. You grabbed your things, but Leon quickly took them out of your hands. 
“I can get it for you.” He gave you a playful smile. “I’m strong, remember?” Now he was the one doing the teasing. 
You let out a small laugh and shook your head. 
Leon walked you out, staying by your side the entire time. As you walked, your knuckles bumped against each other, and you couldn’t help from grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. You felt his sweaty palms against yours. Your heart swelled, threatening to burst out of your chest. He put your back in the back of your car and then opened the driver door for you. You rolled your window down so you could say goodbye. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed his shirt. You pulled him down, placing a kiss on his lips before letting him go. He raised back up, his face bright red and sweaty. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Leon,” you said, putting your car in drive. 
“See you tomorrow,” he said, giving you a small wave.
The rest of the night you couldn’t stop thinking about rookie Leon Kennedy. You couldn’t stop thinking about his big dick, about the way he sounded when you were blowing him, about how he played with your hair while he was getting his cock sucked, about how sweet he was, about how shy and nervous he acted. It got to be a real problem when you realized you actually couldn’t get him off your mind. 
Do I have a crush on him? you pondered as you thought about the date, but also about what you were going to do afterwards… 
You couldn’t wait. 
5K notes · View notes
sabersandsnipers · 8 months
Text
Drabbles: Caregiving
Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Gortash
Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting
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Astarion
To put it lightly, Astarion is a mess after killing Cazador. And who can blame him? After returning to camp, he simply sits and dissociates. His hands tremble. The only solace he finds is when you’re near. 
Still covered in blood, you ask his permission to clean him up. He simply nods, his eyes staring at nothing. You grab a damp cloth and begin gently wiping away the dried blood. He leans towards you, hoping your presence itself can protect him from the trauma that keeps surfacing in his mind. 
You notice his pants are still stained with blood as well. You gently cradle his face to get his attention. 
“Do you need help changing?” 
He doesn’t say anything but the look in his eyes is enough to assure he needs help. You lay him down and help him out of his soiled clothes. You quickly grab his night clothes, pulling his shirt over his head and helping him into new bottoms. 
After he’s settled, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
“Please stay.” His voice is strained. A deep ache blooms in you. 
You sit next to him on his bedroll, cradling him against your chest and whispering soothing thoughts to him for the rest of the night. 
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Gale
As skilled a wizard as Gale is, he can’t always prevent himself from getting sick. Confined to his tent, you took it upon yourself to care for him. 
As you brew some tea for him, he stretches out on his bedroll and watches you work. His heart warms at your worry for him. He really doesn’t deserve the care you’re giving him. He’s sure you have more important things to do. 
You pour the tea for him, crouching next to the bedroll. With barely enough energy to move, you have to help him lift his head to take a sip. You gently cradle the back of his head, bringing the warm liquid to his lips. 
He takes a small sip before laying his head down again. 
He licks the remaining liquid off his lips. “It’s good,” he says. The taste of it sends a comforting warmth through him, mildly numbing the ache settling in his bones. 
“I put a little something extra in there for you,” you tell him, winking. 
He lets out a breathy laugh. “Why am I not surprised?”
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Halsin
Halsin is always the one who wants to care for you. You’ve insisted time and time again to let you pamper him sometime. He works so hard for you, protecting you and making sure you never go to sleep hungry or cold. 
After scrounging enough gold to get a room at a nearby inn, you finally force his hand. He’s bathing in the wash room, and you sneak in while he’s scrubbing at his skin. 
He looks at you, a smile coming to his face. “Did you want to join me?”
You shake your head. “I was hoping I could wash your hair,” you tell him. 
He raises an eyebrow. 
“Please?” you insist. “You must be tired.” 
His shoulders slouch and he ceases his scrubbing. “Get over here,” he grumbles.
You rush over to sit behind the tub, leaping at the chance to help Halsin relax. You make quick work of wetting his hair, pouring a cleansing mix onto his scalp. Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, massaging slowly.
“Hmmm, that feels good,” he says, voice low.
You smile, watching as the tenseness leaves his body. “Good. You deserve it.”
He leans his head back, making it easier for you to work your fingers through his long hair. 
You can’t help yourself. You lean forward to press a kiss to his neck. He turns to  you, a warm smile on his lips. 
Your heart melts just like the first time you saw it.
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Gortash
You straddle Lord Enver Gortash, his bare back laid before you. Your fingers dig into his tense muscles, earning moans from deep within him. He dearly needed a massage after an especially tiring day of ruling over Baldur’s Gate. The power of having him writhe beneath you is intoxicating. 
You lean down and start to press kisses to his lower back, slowly trailing upwards. He growls your name. A warning. You know if you continue to tease him he’s going to flip you onto your back. The thought thrills you. 
But you want to work out those big knots in his back first. He deserves to be taken care of before he takes care of you. You continue your work, rocking back and forth on your heels to gain momentum as you dig deep into his flesh. 
His moans rumble through your hands. You grin to yourself, looking forward to the moment where he gives you the pleasure you want in return. 
3K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 3 months
Text
renaissance (art teacher!yn x single dadrry)
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in which y/n is harry's son's art teacher and he develops a big dumb crush on her. or: kids art teacher!yn x single dad!harry
word count: 6.5k
content warnings: none, just kids! some mentions of different types of familial relationships/dynamics (death of a parent)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
"Alright, kiddos, let's clean up our big, beautiful messes!" 
Y/N claps her hands three times to signify that class is slowly crawling to an end. Her hour-and-a-half art course for kindergarteners is one of the longest and, if she's being honest, labor intensive classes that she teaches. It's set at the end of the school day from 2:30 pm to 4 pm, designed specifically for parents that work late or need to place for their little ones to go after school is over. Most of her students' parents are single and working full-time, or have intense careers like nursing or... whatever it is they do. 
Y/N weaves her way through the small smattering of children ambling over to the sinks. She watches to make sure they're having an okay time with washing out their paint cups and rinsing their brushes, followed by using the correct amount of hand soap to scrub paint stains away.
(That one almost always requires extra help — to this day, she tries not to get frustrated when she thinks about Johnathan dumping an entire bottle of Dawn soap all over his clothes because he had a tiny bit of yellow marker on his tee-shirt. It was the price she paid to teach kids, though.) 
"Clementine, do you need a little help?" she asks, peeking over to one of her quieter students. With fluttering lashes and a slightly baffled look on her face (Y/N could always tell when she was getting stressed out by the way her little eyebrows wrinkled together), Clementine nods, and Y/N makes quick work to appear behind her. She gets down to her level, where her Mary Jane-clad feet are resting atop a stool to help her reach the sink. "What's going on, lovebug?"
"'s everywhere," Clementine whines lightly, her bottom lip forming a sad pout. "Paint all over my hands!"
"I see that, sweetheart! But you know what?" Y/N makes a show of pretending to look side to side to ensure no one else can hear her. "It's okay if we get a little messy sometimes. The cool thing about everything we play with in this class is that it's colorful and pretty, and if it gets on our clothes or our bodies, it can get washed away."
Clementine considers this for a moment. Her hands are still stuck under the lukewarm stream of water, where the caked on hues of bright pink and orange are slowly starting to fade away. "What about on my art?" she asks slowly. "Will that get washed away?"
"Nope," Y/N shakes her head. "That stays forever. But on your clothes and body? It doesn't stand a chance."
"Oh. Okay."
And just like that, Clementine's minor stressed out moment floats away. Y/N smiles to herself as she pours a bit of soap into her small hands and helps her scrub them together, the lingering paint forming a pretty swirl down the drain. 
"There you go, lovebug," she murmurs as she stands back up, giving her head a light pat, "Don't forget to grab your painting when mommy picks you up, okay?"
Clementine nods and scampers away to her table. She chuckles, placing her hands on her hips as she takes stock of the kids. She has about 10 minutes until it's officially time for dismissal, and most parents are good about picking them up right at 4 pm. She thinks about playing a game with them to keep them occupied, until she sees it. 
Riley Styles. With globs of red paint in his curly, brown hair. 
"Oh my god," Y/N mumbles to herself, rushing over to Riley's table, "Riley! Can I ask what happened here?"
She tries to keep her voice at a measured, not-freaked-out level, but it's kind of impossible given the child standing before her is dripping with paint. 
"My cousin has red hair." Riley answers simply before shrugging his shoulders. "I think she uses paint, too."
"Ohhhh, I see," Y/N replies, pressing a gentle hand to his back, "Well, Riley, I think it would be best to clean this up. It look like it feels a little messy and icky." 
Her stomach is bubbling with anxiety as she glances up at the clock. There's now eight minutes to dismissal time, and Riley's dad is never late. 
"But you told Clementine that messes are okay—"
"Messes are always okay!" Y/N exclaims in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice, "Um, why don't you come with me to the bathroom, Riley?" 
She doesn't give him an opportunity to reply before she's looping his hand with his and making quick steps to the faculty bathroom. Realizing she's just left 15 kindergartens in a room unsupervised with a plethora of art supplies, she peeks into Lea's classroom. 
"Lea! Hey, um, Riley and I need to go to the bathroom to clean up a little mess! Can you keep an eye on my kids?" 
Lea, who already has her jacket zipped up and looks like she's about to walk out to her car, furrows her eyebrows. Her eyes widen when Y/N backs up slightly to give her a view of Riley, who has been trailing red paint with every step they take. 
"Oh my god!" she all but squeals, and Y/N's jaw clenches, "Yeah! Sure! No problem! Good luck with that mess, Riley!"
Y/N resists the urge to roll her eyes at her friend as they finally make it to the bathroom. She glances down at her watch, which tells her that took a whopping three minutes of their time. Swallowing tightly, she tries to figure out the best plan of attack, ultimately deciding that it would be best if she just attempted to wash his hair with soap and water while he stood there. 
"Alright, Riley, can you try and stand still for me?" she asks, already pumping an absurd amount of hand soap into her hand, "I'm going to try to help get this mess out of your hair. Don't you miss those pretty curls you have?"
He shrugs as she begins to lather the soap between her hands. "I thought my cousin's hair was pretty."
"I'm sure!" she replies, massaging the foamy liquid into his hair. She's never been so thankful for washable paint before as the tints of red that latched onto his strands begin to wash away. "She probably didn't use paint though, and it's important that we keep the paint on our projects instead of our hair."
"Messes are okay, though. You said it."
She grimaces. Why do kids remember everything?
"You're right, messes are totally fine! But those are accidental messes. It's alright if we get it on our shirts or hands, but paint doesn't go in our hair. Does that make sense?"
His hair is completely saturated with hand soap now. She doesn't have a better way to wash it out (other than dunking the poor kid's head in the sink, which definitely feels unethical), so she's simply getting her hands wet and washing out section by section. It's going moderately well, especially since Riley's hair is on the shorter side, until the bathroom door bursts open, followed by angry footsteps.
"Riley!" 
Y/N turns, her mouth forming an embarrassed o-shape when her eyes make contact with a seething Mr. Styles. 
"Daddy!" Riley exclaims, rushing over to his dad. He latches his arms around his leg, giving them a squeeze, and getting the watered down red paint everywhere in his wake. Y/N winces. 
"What are you doing alone with my son in a faculty bathroom?" He demands, jabbing his finger in Y/N's direction. 
"I'm so sorry! H-he put red paint in his hair and I needed to wash it out, this was the only place I could do it since the kids' bathrooms aren't big enough—"
"And you didn't think to take another faculty member with you?" He spits angrily. Riley's now running around in circles, shaking his hair out like a dog. "How do I know you weren't doing anything—"
"I would never do anything inappropriate and you know that, Mr. Styles," Y/N cuts him off, feeling rage bubble up in her chest, "You've been sending Riley here for two years and this is the first time anything has ever happened. Until now, both you and him have only ever been happy with your experience here."
Mr. Styles clamps his jaw shut, his gaze falling to Riley, who's now pacing back and forth with his hands behind his back. 
"It's washable, then?" he asks through a clenched jaw. "The paint?"
Y/N swallows, then nods once. "Yes. Everything we use is washable and water-soluble. It was coming out fine before."
He straightens his posture and runs his tongue over his two, slightly overlapped front teeth. "Okay. Riley, come on, we have to head home now."
Mr. Styles stretches out his hand and Riley takes it happily, his smaller one clutching his dad's fingers. The sight makes Y/N's stomach squeeze, but she quickly diverts her gaze and clears her throat. 
"I can grab his backpack and jacket," she says, boots clicking against the tiled floors as she walks out of the bathroom. Her face is warm and she feels tears lining her eyes, but she refuses to let herself cry in front of a parent. What she said to Mr. Styles — it's true. She's been working at the studio for five years and nothing has ever happened. She supposes a fuck up was overdue, especially since she works with kids, but it doesn't lessen the sting any.
She's surprised when she hears footsteps behind her, realizing that they're following her. She swallows the lump of tears in her throat and flashes Lea a small, forced smile when she returns to her classroom. The rest of the kids are gone already, their belongings and paintings with them. 
Y/N walks over to the cubbies, where Riley has his jacket and backpack hooked. Gently, she removes them, and turns to hand them to Mr. Styles.
"Again, I apologize for today. I was helping another student clean up and I must have missed this entirely," she says, trying her best to keep an even tone. 
Mr. Styles nods awkwardly, taking Riley's stuff into the crook of his arm. "I, um, apologize for insinuating that you'd do anything... unsavory. I know you wouldn't. I just panicked."
"I understand completely." she replies, and she means it genuinely. 
"Daddy?"
They both look down to see Riley tugging at his dad's pant leg. 
"What does usavory mean?" 
Mr. Styles and Y/N's heads both snap back up, eyes wide as they stare at each other.
"...Nothing," he says with a small smile, making Y/N's own lips curl into a grin, "I got you dino nuggets for dinner. Doesn't that sound yummy?"
Mr. Styles waves goodbye to her as he pulls Riley out of the classroom, chanting dino nuggets! dino nuggets! on his way out.
. . .
When Riley doesn't show up for class the following week, Y/N sincerely contemplates poking her eyes out with paintbrushes. 
She feels stupidly embarrassed. It took her two full days to move on from the whole red-paint-in-the-hair thing, in which she replayed every single moment of Mr. Styles staring her down like he wanted to pummel her across the city. And while she thinks things ended on a relatively decent note, she wonders if he was just being polite and now he was pulling Riley out of her afterschool art classes. 
She's never had a parent unenroll their kid for reasons that weren't out of her control. Moving? Sure. Wanting to try a new activity? Understandable. Parents wanting to spend more time with their child? Y/N wouldn't dream of getting upset over that. But Mr. Styles, who always showed up at 4 pm on the dot in his neatly pressed slacks and crisp button downs to retrieve Riley from class? 
She didn't know much about him. Unlike other parents, Mr. Styles didn't care much for idle chatter or small talk. For most of her students, she knew at least something about their personal lives or home dynamics — Reese's mom was a pediatric nurse, Tyler had a twin sister who preferred playing soccer after school, and Sabrina's dad passed away when she was a baby, so she lived with her grandparents and mom. 
Anything she put together about Riley's home life was from pure speculation: His mom never picked him up, so she wasn't sure she was in the picture. (She doesn't think Mr. Styles is married, either, considering he doesn't wear a wedding ring, but that's neither here nor there.) He alway showed up to the art studio in professional work clothes, which led Y/N to assume he came straight from wherever he worked. Riley never spoke about having any siblings, so she thinks he's an only child.
And that's about it. 
She spends the entirety of class holding her breath and mentally preparing for her boss to ask to see her once all the kids were picked up. Nina would probably start out by thanking her for all of her hard work over the past five years, and then before Y/N even realized it was happening, would switch over to her lack of care for Riley and the complaints made on Mr. Styles' behalf. She could envision the words leaving her mouth now: And so, we have no choice but to let you go, Y/N. 
Except... to her surprise, that doesn't happen. Nina doesn't come in after dismissal and she even tells her to drive safe on her way out of the building. There aren't any meetings placed on her schedule in the week that passes by before Y/N's next course with Riley's group, and she's damn near shocked when her students come bustling in seven days later, the curly haired boy included. 
Today, Y/N teaches them about working with oil pastels. She breaks the medium down to a very basic, understandable level for kindergarteners and lets them go wild after her usual 15 minutes of instruction, instructing them to let their creative minds run wild. It's one of her favorite parts of teaching art to kids — they rarely overthink it, instead just allowing whatever flows to come through to the paper. 
Unsurprisingly, oil pastels aren't as messy as paints, so there's less clean-up required than their previous unit. At 4, the parents arrive in quick succession, though when her eyes flit to the clock, she's surprised when Mr. Styles still hasn't picked Riley up by 4:07. 
She doesn't like to bring attention to late parents (she's found that some kids get all knotted up about it, worrying that something happened), so she usually has a few busy activities prepared for this very event. She grabs her folder of coloring pages to bring over to Riley's table, who's busying himself with peeling glue off of the worn, messy table. 
"Okay, Mr. Riley, what are we in the mood to color tonight?" she asks, flipping open the folder, "We have a garden, a firetruck, or a puppy!"
Riley silently contemplates the pictures in front of him and for a moment, Y/N feels like some childhood psychiatrist analyzing his decision. She has nothing to examine, though, beyond the fact that she's hoping he opts for the puppy or firetruck so she can work on the garden as they wait for Mr. Styles. With his small tongue poking out from the side of his mouth, Riley taps his finger decidedly on the puppy.
"This one, pwease."
She smiles and nods, stuffing the firetruck back in the folder and keeping the garden and puppy out. Riley always expressed good manners, and his sweet "pwease" and "tank you"'s always warmed her heart. 
"Sounds like a plan," Y/N pulls the cup of used Crayola crayons so they're within easy access. She buys a new pack every semester because, as she expected from her very first year working here, kids love to destroy crayons, even if they don't always mean it. Even from just a few months of use, the current 64-array is in rough shape. "Do you have a puppy at home?"
Riley shakes his head as he immediately grabs a teal color to color in the fur. "No. I want one, but Daddy says no."
"Puppies are definitely hard to take care of," Y/N nods as she pulls out a light pink for the flowers on her page. "I have a cat. Her name is Biscuit."
"Biscuit?" Riley giggles. Y/N grins. 
"Mhm. She loves to jump up on the kitchen counter and eat whatever food I make," she leans in closer and lowers her voice. "It's pretty naughty, if you ask me."
Riley's giggles erupt into full-fledged laughter. Y/N can't help but chuckle, too, but it's almost immediately cut off when Mr. Styles rushes in, looking frazzled with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. 
"Oh! Daddy's here, Riley," Y/N announces, standing up from the little table. Riley turns around with a grin, excited to see his dad as always. 
"Hey!" Mr. Styles greets loudly, though his tone teeters on nervousness more than excitement. "I'm so sorry I was late. I had to, um... make a stop, and there was a lot of traffic. Rush hour."
Y/N nods understandingly, "That's alright. Riley, do you wanna show Daddy what you made today?"
"Actually, uh, one sec bud— why don't you keep coloring that... blue puppy, huh?" Mr. Styles's eyes peer over the page he's diligently working on, an expression of confusion making Y/N press her lips into a small smile. Completely content, Riley continues on, and Mr. Styles darts his eyes back over to Y/N. "Um, do you have a moment?"
She nods, swallowing harshly. She assumes this is it — the moment when he tells her that he's pulling Riley out of the program because of her unprofessionalism. It kind of hardens the blow a bit more given the massive flowers in his hand, which he assumes are for a girlfriend at home, maybe Riley's step-mom to-be. Or maybe he's trying to work things out with his birth mom. It's none of Y/N's business, but for some reason the thoughts swirl around in her brain, making her feel all the same — anxious, worried, self-conscious, and even a little down.
She leads him to the corner where her desk is so they're able to speak quietly and freely, out of Riley's earshot. Mr. Styles doesn't say anything for a brief minute. He's always been quite kind to her, so she figures he's trying to figure out the nicest way to say, "you're the worst art teacher and I never want my kid to be around you ever again."
"These are for you," he says, stretching his arm out to hand Y/N the flowers. Her eyes go so wide they feel like they could pop out of her head. It takes a second for her brain to compute the words and he looks at her expectedly, waiting for her to accept them. Finally, she does, hand clutching the brown wrapping around the excessive bouquet of stems. (Seriously, there's at least 25 in here.) "I wanted to apologize for last week. Again. It was... so rude of me to say anything even remotely close to that. You've been nothing but a bright light in mine and Riley's lives and I was just having an awful day already, and... kids are kids, they do silly things, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."
Y/N's eyebrows still feel like they're glued to her hairline. She's beyond surprised. In her years of working with kids, she's had parents say way worse things to her, and she never received an apology for any of it. 
"Oh... Mr. Styles, this is—"
"Harry." he cuts her off, a wrinkle forming between his brows. "You can call me Harry."
She nods slowly, still processing the information. "Harry, this is very kind of you, but so, completely unnecessary. I didn't— I love Riley, he's a great kid, and I was worried you didn't want him to come back when he wasn't here last week."
Harry quickly shakes his head. "No, no. He had the flu. Ever since he started kindergarten, he's been getting sick left and right."
"Oh," Y/N says dumbly, beginning to realize that she worried herself sick for a week over quite literally... nothing. "Oh. That makes a lot more sense."
He chuckles and stuffs his hands into the pocket of his slacks. "Yeah. So, anyway, I hope you accept my apology, and even if you don't, I understand. Just know that I'll have Riley try to dye his hair blue next time or something," he teases, his face instantly falling the second the words leave his mouth. "That was a joke. I'd never do that."
Y/N laughs. "See, and I think pink would fit his complexion better."
Harry grins widely, and she realizes she's never noticed the cute little dimple that pops out of his cheek when he does.
She secretly hopes she gets to make it happen again sometime soon.
. . .
"How was Riley today?"
Y/N smiles knowingly at Harry as she wipes off one of the empty tables. "You know the answer to that. You don't have to ask."
Harry shrugs, putting his hands up in mock defense. He still has one of the Clorox wipes in his hand, quickly returning to cleaning off the crayon- and paint brushed-filled cups. 
"I just like to make sure he isn't a complete menace, that's all."
"He's never a menace," Y/N replies, tossing the wipe in the garbage, "He's always very well behaved and well mannered. Kind of wondering if you built him up in a lab."
Harry chuckles. "Nope. Not quite how those things work."
Y/N's cheeks warm so she turns on her heel to glance up at the clock in the front of the classroom. It's edging closer to 4:30, which is about as long as she likes to stay after work. She always makes quick work of cleaning up the floors and tables, de-sanitizing them little kid germs for her 11 am disabled adult class tomorrow morning. 
Ever since she and Harry had that chat with the enormous bouquet of flowers (they're all nearly wilted by now, but Y/N refuses to just throw them out), Harry comes to get Riley a few minutes after 4. By then, Riley's the only kid left, save for one or two on days with bad weather. Y/N will have them set up with their coloring pages and, instead of immediately helping Riley pack his things up to leave, Harry just... sticks around. Riley doesn't mind because he adores the different print-outs he gets to choose from, and Y/N can't help the way her heart hammers in her chest as Harry offers to help her clean up or ask about her day. 
It's been nearly a month of this — once a week, dancing around tiny tables and conversations accompanied by the scent of Clorox — but Y/N secretly hopes that it's because Harry wants to spend time with her. She doesn't see any other reason why he'd do it, but she doesn't want to seem cocky, either. 
"Okay, let's get you two out of here. It's already dark." Y/N announces as she unlocks her small closet in the corner, pulling her coat and bag out. 
"Is it alright if we walk you to your car?" Harry asks. 
She turns around to see Harry helping Riley zip his jacket up. The sight makes her chest tighten. The love he has for his son is so incredibly sweet that it makes her feel crazy some days. 
"Um... sure, if it's not too much," she eventually replies, swallowing harshly, "I'm just a few rows back."
Harry nods and stands up from his place on the floor. He reaches down, a silent request for Riley to fit his smaller hand in his. 
"Ri, what do you say to Ms Y/N for all the cool coloring pages?"
"Tank you!" he exclaims, his free hand in a tight fist, wrinkling today's coloring of a dinosaur.
"You're very welcome, cutie! I love that you made the dinosaur purple today." Y/N says with a grin. She follows them out, but not before turning all the lights off and locking the door. 
"Daddy puts all my pictures on the refrig—refig—refigerator?" 
"Refrigerator," Harry says as they walk down the empty hallway, "But close. Good job, bud."
Riley looks up at his dad with a grin. "Yeah! Daddy puts them all up. He says they're pwetty."
"They are pretty." Y/N nods, agreeing with a smile.
"He says Miss Y/N's pwetty too, and that's why we always stay late now—"
"Ah!" Harry yelps, cutting Riley off with an embarrassed flush. Y/N presses her mouth into a line nervously, trying to hide the excited smile curling at her lips. The conversation ends after that, though Y/N has trouble ignoring the butterflies flapping in her tummy. She clears her throat when they approach her car, her mitten-clad hands pressing the 'unlock' button on her keys.
"This is me," she says, pulling open the passenger's seat door to put her bag in. 
"I'm so sorry," Harry rushes out. "I— that's not why we stay. Well, it is. Well, I mean, I think you're very nice and I like being around you, and I do think you're pretty, however I'm not trying to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just— I, um. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry," Y/N replies, this time allowing the smile to flower over her face, "We can always... we don't have to just hang out here. Like, we can get a coffee or something. Not in the company of your very sweet child."
He scoffs playfully, nevertheless pulling his phone out and opening his contacts. Hesitantly, he hands it to Y/N, who pulls off her mitten before accepting it and putting her information in.
"Text me when you wanna get together," she says as she gives it back to him. "Also, for the record. I think you're pwetty, too."
. . .
Harry texts her the following morning: I haven't asked someone out on a date in a long time, so I'm a little rusty... would you want to get dinner with me on Saturday night?
Y/N, who learned the whole wait-10-minutes-before-you-text-back thing back in college, doesn't even let her screen go dark before she messages him to say that Saturday sounds perfect, and he did a great job. 
On Saturday evening, he picks her up at 7 pm on the dot. She's not sure what she was expecting, but she definitely didn't anticipate him getting out of his car on such a dreary, cold evening, ringing her doorbell, and bringing her yet another bouquet of flowers. She tries her best to hide the fact that she's shocked by his presence on her doorstep, her boots clacking against the wood floors of her rental, as she promises him she'll be back in a second once she puts them in some water. 
Gentlemanly as ever, he escorts her to his car, a sleek, black sedan. She's not sure what he does for work and assumes he'll tell her tonight, but it's apparent that he has money — she doesn't think she's seen Riley in the same outfit twice and he's always showing up to pick-up in a stylish suit that may cost Y/N's entire biweekly salary.
They make slightly awkward, first date small talk on the way to the restaurant, which feels silly for both of them considering they know each other outside of this. 
"What did you do today?" Harry asks, and Y/N's not quite sure how to say "I stayed inside all day doing nothing" without sounding like an elderly woman. 
"Um, caught up on some TV. Painted a bit. Nothing too exciting, really. How about you?"
"Riley and I went to a kids science museum. It was fun, he enjoyed it," he replies, tapping his thumbs against the leather of the steering wheel. "Do you do a lot of art outside of work?"
Y/N nods, "Oh, yeah. I went to school for it. I actually wanted to be a museum curator."
"So how'd you end up working with snotty-nosed brats like my kid?" he asks teasingly. Y/N laughs. 
"It was supposed to be a side gig until I found something more permanent, but... I started five years ago and got too attached, I suppose."
Harry hums. "Well, you're great at what you do. I've only seen you work with kids, obviously, but I'm always impressed with you."
Y/N shrugs, trying her best not to seem slightly overwhelmed by his compliment. He had a habit of doing that — making her feel dizzy and melty, all because he looked at her for a beat too long or said something she wasn't expecting. 
"Thank you. It's nothing special, though," she says softly, swallowing tightly, "What do you do? I don't think I've ever asked."
"I'm in finances. It's incredibly boring," he replies almost instantly, as if it's a knee-jerk reaction. "But, um... pays the bills. You know how it goes."
It feels like an add-on, but nonetheless, Y/N nods understandingly. It seems like it does a lot more than pay the bills, but she doesn't question it.
The rest of the drive is on the quieter side. It makes Y/N's stomach bubble with anxiety, wondering if she's being too boring and attempting to come up with talking points that fall flat — every time she thinks of a question, she talks herself out of it, assuming it would sound silly leaving her lips. 
Thankfully, Harry pulls into a parking spot not 10 minutes later. They're in a quaint part of town and, despite the holidays coming and going, the streets are still lit up with pretty snowflake displays. It's on the quieter side, which Y/N also appreciates — considering the fact that she already assumed Harry was fairly wealthy, she had worries that he'd take her somewhere far too fancy. 
He looks slightly dejected for some reason when Y/N gets out of the car, burying her hands in the pockets of her jacket. He hurries over to where she's standing on the sidewalk, locking the car with the key fob.
"You look like you're freezing, I'm so sorry," he mumbles, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. It's an act he wouldn't do under any other circumstance if she wasn't all but shaking. "I should've dropped you off at the restaurant."
Y/N shakes her head, "No, don't be silly. Where are we going, anyway?"
He gives her shoulders a small squeeze as he guides her down the sidewalk. "Well, you mentioned not being able to find a decent sushi place nearby. This has been a favorite of mine for a few years."
She glances up at him, a look of confusion on her face. "I said that?"
"Yes," he chuckles. "A few weeks back."
She knows it's true — she gets a mean sushi craving at least once a week but has yet to dine at a spot that she dubs her go-to. She tries to think back to their conversations over the past month or so, but it's a fruitless effort, especially once he holds the door open for her, his large hand pressed against the small of her back. Immediately, the warmth of the restaurant is a welcomed sensation, but the feeling of his touch feels even more delicious. 
"Reservation for Styles." he says to the hostess, who, without even looking down at the book on the podium, grabs two menus and walks them over to their table. Y/N's thankful that they're placed in a back corner, where she can cozy up and, perhaps slightly unattractively, stuff her face with spicy tuna rolls and sashimi until she can barely breathe.
"This place looks incredible, Harry," Y/N says softly as she looks over the delicate menu. "You come here often?"
She only says it because the prices are on the more expensive side, so it's difficult for her to imagine casually ordering in from here. She glances up to see him shrugging his shoulders lightly, eyes still glued to the menu. 
"Every now and then." he answers vaguely. 
As if on cue, a waiter approaches their table, placing down a bottle of wine. 
"Your usual, Mr. Styles," he says, and Y/N swears she watches Harry's jaw clench, "Shall we do another tasting menu tonight?"
Her eyebrows furrow and a zap of anxiety electrifies her chest. Clearly, he does come here often. Why would he lie to her then? Was this where he took all his first dates? Y/N clears her throat uncomfortably, shifting on her bum as she starts to let her mind spiral. Suddenly, she feels like just another pawn in a man's game.
"Give us a few minutes, please. No tasting menu tonight, we'll be ordering entrees." Harry says curtly. The waiter nods with a smile and leaves them be.
Without thinking much, Y/N leans over the length of the table, the bones of her elbows pressing into the bright red tablecloth. 
"Do you always take girls here?" she demands, a bite to her tone. Harry's head snaps up with wide eyes.
"What? No, why would you—"
"Because you said you come here 'every now and then', but the waitstaff knows your wine order and asked if you wanted a tasting menu again," Y/N replies briskly, blinking at the man in front of her. "You know, I'm not just some girl you can mess around with—"
"Y/N," Harry breathes, shaking his head. "No. No. It's not like that at all. I take my employees here quite frequently and do business dinners here. I'm aware that it's on the expensive side and I just... money is an awkward subject."
"Well, it's even more awkward when you pretend like you don't have any—"
"I wasn't pretending," he mutters, swallowing tightly. "I know you're not like that, but I haven't dated in a long time. Partially because of Riley, but also because people I've been with have only cared about the money. So I just try not to let it be a focal point, especially on the first date. I'm sorry if I didn't do a good job of that."
Y/N's stomach plummets. She feels sick — she hates that she assumed the worst out of him, letting her own dating traumas get in the way of him just trying to protect himself. God, she was the worst first date ever.
"I'm so sorry," Y/N breathes out shakily. "I'm being an asshole."
"You're not." Harry mumbles as he looks down at his lap. "Just... first date jitters, maybe?"
She smiles gently. "Can we start over?" Harry flicks his eyes up at look at her. "I like you, Harry, and I really, really want this to go well."
She watches as his throat bobs, a smile curling at his lips.
"So, Y/N. What is it that you do for work again?"
. . .
Harry feels like he's known Y/N for his entire life. 
When they leave the restaurant (she attempts to put her card down and he can't help but snicker at her before explaining that they already have his on file), her hand curls around his as they walk back to the car. It makes his entire body erupt into flames as their palms press against one another's, intertwining their fingers tightly. Their shoulders bump into each other's with lopsided, goofy smiles on their lips. 
"Tonight was fun." she says as they approach his parked car. He gives her hand a final squeeze before unlocking the doors. 
"It was," Harry echoes her sentiment. They separate briefly to get into the vehicle; Harry immediately turning it on to crank the heat up. "Would you wanna do it again sometime?"
"Yeah. That would be nice." She nods, grinning. "What did Riley get up to this evening?"
He chuckles, "He's with the babysitter for the evening. She's used to my late nights with business dinners."
Y/N hums, peeling her hands out of her jacket pockets now that they're a little less chilly. "So you're not in a hurry to get home, then?"
Harry's chest dings with a bead of nervousness. He swallows and flexes his hands in his lap. 
"Sort of. Riley has swimming lessons in the morning."
It's not a complete lie. Riley does have swimming lessons, but Harry wants to stay out with Y/N more than anything. He's not in any kind of rush — he's just anxious about what she's thinking about proposing after not dating anyone since his son was born.
"Oh, sure," she smiles, and Harry's surprised by the way her face maintains its happy composure. "Well, we can just end the night here if you need to get back. No worries."
That makes Harry feel bad — the fact that she's just so incredibly understanding, even if he's feeding her excuses based on his own insecurities. He clears his throat awkwardly and attempts to shift in his seat to face her. 
"I haven't done this in a long time," Harry blurts out. "And I'm very nervous."
Y/N's face crinkles into an adorable smile. "The date is over, Harry. I thought we established that we had a good time."
"We did!" he rushes, lifting his hand to run it through his hair, "No, we did. I had an incredible time with you. I really like you."
"So what are you nervous about?" she asks softly, reaching out to take his hand into hers.
That.
That's what he's nervous about.
"It's just... it's been awhile since I've liked anyone. Since I've... touched anyone." His throat bobs and his eyebrows shoot up as he realizes the insinuation of his words. "Not like that! Well, yes, like that, but— I meant, not just sexually. Holding hands. Kissing. We don't have to do a single thing anytime soon, but I haven't done this in years."
"You're nervous about physical touch?" Y/N says gently, her voice soft. He nods. "That's fine, Harry. Like you said, we don't have to do anything anytime soon. We can go at your pace, whatever that means."
"I... I want to kiss you, though," he admits in a raspy tone. "I just don't know... how."
Y/N's heart feels like it shatters into a million pieces. With a thumping chest, she leans into his side over the middle console and gently takes his cheek into her palm. His face feels cold from the chilly winter evening and he can't help but press into the warm, comforting feel of her touch. His eyes flutter shut and she smiles, nibbling on her bottom lip as adoration fills every inch of her body. 
"Can I?" she whispers, punctuating her question with a nervous swallow, "You can say no. I just... I'd like to try."
"Please."
She's hesitant in her movements, not wanting to overwhelm him as she slowly inches closer. She tilts her head ever so slightly and presses her lips to his raspberry ones, eyes flittering closed as fireworks explode between their chests. It's perfect — it's slow, and it's leery as both of them try to find a comfortable pace, but of all the first kisses she's ever had, she's positive this is the best one she'll ever experience. 
They sit in Harry's car kissing until Y/N's breathless. Neither of them know how long it's been but eventually, she breaks it apart, panting quietly through spit swollen lips. He keeps his forehead pressed against hers with a dopey smile. 
"'s good," he mumbles, and she mimics his grin, "That was... yeah. It was so good."
She giggles and her tummy feels like it's filled with butterflies and carbonated bubbles and excited tingles. 
"So good." she echoes.
He's surging forward with a grin to reconnect their lips not a moment later, and they're both positive they've never been so content before.
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strang3lov3 · 4 months
Text
Jet Stream
Joel has his fun with you after learning his shower head has a jet stream setting.
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Part two of my miniseries for @noxturnalpascal Can be read as standalone but check out the first part Lather ! Thank you @merz-8 @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi for all their brainstorming on this fic!
tags-soft dom!joel, maybe not so soft dom! joel, overstimulation station, pet name (good girl, sweetheart, honey, darling) crying, fingering, multiple orgasms both clitoral and vaginal, smoochin’, praise, blowjobs, snuggles
notes- thank you for your patience with me! Hope you’re all having a lovely start to your February, please harass me and spank me to get part 3 and my Valentine’s Day one shot out by next week ❤️💖
Kindly edited by @papipascalispunk ❤️❤️❤️
Masterlist
Joel wakes up early, even on Saturdays. Taking advantage of the little pleasures in life, he watches squirrels and chipmunks run up and down the trees in his backyard, listening to the birds chirp while the sun rises. When the sun rises, he’ll take his morning shower and sigh in relaxation under the hot water. Let it wash over him for a little too long before he scrubs his body. 
But not this Saturday. Today, that steady pelting of water on his back and chest feels like a trickle compared to what it’s usually like. Joel’s been noticing this for a while, maybe you have too. He stands in the shower, annoyed at the glacial pace of the suds sliding off his body. After what feels like an eternity passes, he shuts off the water and examines the shower head closely. Yeah, that’ll do it, he thinks. Limescale. It’s built up around the shower head, into all the grooves. This commonly happens when hard water runs through a house. It’s an easy fix. 
Joel unscrews the shower head from its fixture then dries off. He goes downstairs and grabs a bucket and a jug of vinegar from his cleaning supply closet. He soaks the shower head in the vinegar-filled bucket for about an hour before taking the shower head out, using an old toothbrush to scrub the grooves and holes in the shower head. Joel hears a creak upstairs and quickens his scrubbing, he doesn’t need you coming downstairs and scolding him for over-exerting himself. Yeah, yeah – he should be asking you for your help and all that, but you’re too pretty for a chore like this, he thinks. Besides, his shoulder is getting better. Not quite as tender as it was a week ago. As Joel wraps up the finishing touches of cleaning the shower head, he notices some etched words that were previously covered by the limescale – Rain, Shower, Jet Stream.
Well, would ya look at that. A mischievous grin forms on Joel’s lips. His brain has been fucking addled thinking about you. You, and the way you came on your own fingers, whimpering his name. How after, you pushed your fingers past his lips, how sweet your arousal tasted on his tongue. How he’s been yearning to touch you, fuck you, but his stupid goddamn shoulder is still hurting. Hurting, but healing nonetheless. God, is he addled. But now, with this nifty little jet stream setting, he can have you melting in his hands in no time. It can do all the work for him, leaving his shoulder unharmed and without disruption to its healing process. He wonders, how many times will he make you come?
The day goes by as normal. It’s evening, Ellie’s not home. You’re on the couch with Joel after eating pasta for dinner. You’re knitting a blanket using mismatched yarn, just trying to find some use for the odds and ends. Joel’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch and bouncing his leg, twiddling his fingers. He looks bored, anxious. Seinfeld is on TV, Joel loves this show. He rented the series DVDs from the library in Jackson and claimed to have scratched them when they were past due. “Joel, quit,” you scold him. He’s bouncing the couch. 
“My bad,” Joel says. You can feel him staring at you. He’s touching his hair. You turn your face to look at him, raising your eyebrows expectantly. Joel wears an anticipatory look, but stays quiet. You turn your attention back to the TV and he’s now combing his fingers through his hair, sighing loudly. “Hmmm…” he hums, “What’s a guy to do…”
You drop your knitting needles in your lap. “What, Joel?”
“Oh, nothin’,” he says. Joel kind of just gestures to his hair and shrugs, like you’re supposed to know what he’s asking for. You do, of course, but he can use his words. “Ahem,” Joel clears his throat, now twirling a finger around one of his curls cheekily, making a real big show out of it. He’s smiling now.  
“Do you need me to wash your hair again, Joel?”
“If you’d be so kind, darlin’,” he grins. 
You finish the row you’re currently knitting before wrapping up your work and putting it into a basket and under the end table next to the couch. After pausing the TV, you stand up and Joel outstretches his left hand to you, which you take in your own. He groans loudly as you pull him to his feet where he stands in front of you. There’s something about him today. When you washed his hair last week, he was bashful and awkward. Today, he’s confident with his sly grin, that teasing look in his eye like he’s working an angle. Maybe he’s just excited for another shower blow job, which you’ll happily provide again. You smile too, he’ll be 0 for 2. 
When you and Joel arrive at the bathroom, he locks the door just like last time. He’s unbuttoning his jeans, not bothering to hide the bulge in his boxers. You don’t bother with the formalities of your partnered shower as you and Joel undress yourselves. It’s unnecessary at this point, after the fortuitous, amatory events of your last one. Joel notices your smirk before he turns on the hot water. He can tell you think you’re gonna pull one over on him again. That’s fine, you can believe whatever you’d like.
Joel opens the shower curtain. “After you,” he purrs, offering his hand to you as you step into the tub. You stand underneath the stream of water, wetting your hair and letting the hot water warm your skin. It feels stronger today for some reason. “Pressure’s different,” you tell Joel. 
“Is it now?” Joel asks, feigning ignorance as he joins you in the tub, cock already half mast. You step closer to him, reaching for it, feeling him grow harder in your hand. Massaging his cock, tracing your fingertips around his thick head and along the veins of his shaft, you bite down on your smile. “Yeah, that’s nice, trouble,” he sighs in pleasure, “Aren’t you something?” 
“Feel good, Joel?” you murmur. 
“Mhm,” Joel hums, “Feels just wonderful, sweetheart. You’re too good t’me.” 
Shampoo and conditioner can wait. You take the time to massage his cock a while longer as you wrap your free hand around Joel’s neck, toying with the curls at the back of his head. They’re not quite wet yet as you’ve been hogging all the hot water, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. He lets you stroke his member as he holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to kiss you softly. As you deepen the kiss, gently biting his plump bottom lip, Joel pulls away, removing your hand from his member.
“You done yet?” he asks you. 
You’re almost offended. Asshole. You were enjoying that kiss. “Not quite,” you reply, leaning forward to kiss him, touch him some more. 
Joel pulls away from you as he blocks your hand. He grips your wrist  and holds it behind your back as he spins you around, your back now facing him. “Well you’re gonna have to be,” he says. “The lady’s ’sposed to come first. That’s how we’re doing things from now on.”
“Yeah, right Joel. You can’t touch me, your shoulder is still fucked up.” you squirm away from him, but he keeps his hold on you. Gentle, firm. 
“Worry about yourself,” he warns in a tone much less teasing than before. He winces as he uses his bad arm to reach for the shower head, “Y’think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
“I…” you trail off as he hovers the shower head above your torso, peering over your shoulder as he watches the water fall down your curves. He hums softly as he focuses the stream over your breasts, feeling you begin to twitch as the water teases your nipples. 
“My shoulder is healing, actually. But yeah, it is still a little fucked up,” Joel continues, “Don’t need to touch ya anyhow.”
Ohh, you’re getting it now. Joel thinks he cracked the code. “I appreciate the thought, Joel,” you chuckle. “But if you’re planning on using the shower head to make me come, just go ahead and put it back where it belongs. I’ve tried that already.”
“Figures,” he teases. “You wanna know somethin’?”
“What’s that, Joel?”
“Water pressure on this thing sucked lately, so I was cleanin’ this thing out this morning,” he begins. He keeps your arm behind your back as he sits both you and himself down on the shower bench, keeping your back pressed firmly against his torso. “Does this hurt?” he whispers before continuing. You shake your head no. “Good,” Joel says. “Anyway, wouldn’t ya know it, there’s a jet stream setting on this thing.” Joel nudges a foot between your legs and taps you. “Open ‘em. You stay like this for me.”
He’s speaking with such authority, such a commanding tone. You’re almost nervous. You could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice last week just how severely you pissed him off with the way you touched yourself in front of him, knowing he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. How you further taunted him when you pushed your fingers past his lips, dangling the premise of tasting your sweet cunt over his head. You should have known he’d retaliate.
“Was not a fan of how you got yourself off without me, pretty rudely, might I add. Told you I wanted to help, you fuckin’ deviant.”
Yup, you’re correct. He’s still fucking pissed. He did a good job keeping a lid on it until now. “Joel,” you breathe. 
“So yes, you’re right. I can’t touch ya yet,” he continues in a low voice, “S’why we’re gonna see what this does to ya, sweetheart.”
Joel keeps the shower head on the rain setting for this part. With his free hand, he cups the back of your knee and has you set your foot on the bench where you and Joel sit. This way, you’re nice and open for him to do as he pleases. He brings the shower head lower, hovering it over your torso, down your tummy, then your pussy. It’s a nice sensation, warm and gentle. When you lean your head back on his shoulder and sigh softly, he ups the ante. Momentarily, he futzes with the showerhead and switches it to the jet stream setting before bringing it back to your center. He starts the stream at your inner thighs first, working his way inward until the stream is massaging your lips, first one side and then the other. Slowly, he twists his wrist, getting your pussy used to the new sensation. He can’t see much from this angle, can’t feel anything either. He’s waiting for you to jolt and moan to know when he’s struck gold. “Shhh…” Joel quiets you when you do just that. “Oh yeah, this’ll do just fine, hm?”
Fuck, it’s intense. It’s very intense, almost too much. “Joel, fuck,” you cry. You should not have fucked with him. 
“Just relax,” he instructs, “You’ll get used to it.” But you’re not getting used to it, not even close. It’s a powerful, nearly electric sort of feeling that takes you wholly as you jerk and stutter in his hold. “Mm-mm, you stay here. Quit your squirmin’.”
“S’too much Joel,” you whine. 
“S’kinda the point,” he mumbles, “But you’re doin’ good, sweetheart. Jus’ let it happen.”
Joel rotates his wrist, directing the stream of water in tight, steady circles on your clit. The striking, uncomfortable and intense feeling is beginning to dissipate as your pleasure begins to build. Joel’s hot breath is on your neck, his torso rising and falling steadily. You can feel his warm, stiff package pressing against your lower back. “Joel, it feels so good,” you breathe. “Please don’t stop.”
“Nah, I wouldn’t dream of that,” he replies.  The movement of Joel’s wrists never falters, though he knows it’ll be sore in the morning. You move your hips in tune with his movement, eyes squeezed shut and moaning quietly, your open mouth pressed against his neck. He wonders if maybe you haven’t quite realized the circumstance you’re in, what he plans to do to you. “Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” he mumbles, wearing a smug grin.
Joel lets go of his hold on your leg to touch your breasts with his free hand, kneading your flesh. When he teases your nipples, the sensation of it all is heightened. Within moments, you’ve reached your peak. It’s intense and the feeling lasts long as Joel, with the help of the shower head, helps you ride out your high. Joel gives you a moment to catch your breath as he points the shower head at the floor, letting you relax against him. After a minute passes, you try to lean forward to get up, but Joel stops you by wrapping his strong arm around your torso and keeping you pressed tightly against him. “Ohh, you’re not goin’ anywhere. We’re not done yet,” he coos as he kisses your cheek, your temple. 
“I know, but it’s your turn.”
“Oh, not quite. We’re way past turns and bein’ square and even and all that,” he says. “Yeah, that went out the door with that little stunt you pulled on me last week. So let me spell it out for you, darlin’, I am not finished with you.”
“Joel, what are you–” Joel cuts you off by bringing the shower head back to your pussy. Reaching out for something, anything, your hand finds purchase in his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls as you tug gently. “Joel, fuck,” you pant. 
“Not goin’ easy on ya,” he warns. “S’that alright?” Your heart swells. Always the gentleman, Joel is. You nod against his cheek. “Then you stay just like this for me,” he instructs, whispering quietly against the shell of your ear, “Just like this. That’s all ya gotta do, s’real easy.” He tells you this like he’s giving you a choice, but subtly, he places his hand his back on your knee, keeping your cunt exposed to him for his use. Then Joel, realizing he has a better idea, gently pushes your leg off the bench. Potentially against his better judgment, he takes your own free hand and places it on your knee. “Be a good girl,” he murmurs, trusting you with this privilege perhaps too early in tonight’s endeavor. But he knows you, you’ve always been all bark and no bite – he’s not worried about you. Not a bit. 
“I’ll be good, Joel,” you whimper, eager to make this easier on yourself. You’ve never felt a sensation this intense before, and you know to tread carefully with Joel. Especially given what led you to this mess you’re in with him. 
Joel smirks, he’s right as always. Already you’re so docile, so well-behaved, so pliant. 
He finds your clit with the fingers of his left hand to help him with the shower head in his right hand. After finding that sweet little bundle of nerves with the jet stream, Joel traces along your lips momentarily before pushing a finger inside your warm, wet pussy. “Joel, oh my god,” your right hand leaves its place in his hair and you reach for his bicep instead, not exactly sure what your goal is here. You just need Joel’s comfort, to touch him, feel him, hold onto him for dear life as he delivers you deep and powerful pleasure just moments previously unknown to you. 
“I know sweetheart. Can’t do anything about it, huh?” he taunts, pushing in another finger. He curls them slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet heat pulsing around his knuckles. “Y’look very beautiful like this, ya know.” Joel quickens the pace of his fingers. You moan as you beg him for mercy of some sort as he fucks you on his fingers, while torturing your poor, overworked clit with that shower head. It’s sensual, satisfying, and nearly painful all at once. “Doin’ so good. I know you’ve got another one in ya.”
“I don’t know, Joel, I’m– I’m–”
“Take it easy. Focus right here,” he says, curling his fingers faster now. You’re a mess of panting and whimpering as Joel works his magic, stroking that sweet spot inside of you he made short work of finding. You’re soaking his fingers with your arousal as he touches you, a second orgasm washing over you quickly.
You’re panting, heart pounding as you try to come down from your high. “Please,” you breathe heavily, “Please Joel, I– oh–”
“Not quite sure what all that beggin’s for, sweetheart. Told ya what you were in for tonight,” Joel whispers in a honeyed voice. “You got one more, though.”
No way. It’s not possible. This is too much, you’re certain you’ll be satisfied for an eternity after this. “Joel, I don’t think I can,” you cry, hot and salty tears of overstimulation rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t–”
Joel interrupts you. “Yes, you can,” he says. Joel pulls his fingers and the shower head away from your pussy, giving you another moment to breathe. You’re still breathing heavily, shaking and trembling slightly. Poor thing, not used to all of this. It’s a lot on you and Joel knows this. “I’m right here, I got you,” he coos. He adjusts the way he’s holding you for a moment to look at your face, wipe away your tears. His brow furrows as he searches your face, rubbing his thumb back and forth over your jaw. “Breathe, baby. S’okay. Ain’t gonna break.” 
You nod, stutter out some incoherent response. Joel’s eyes are warm and soft as he calms you, kissing your lips and your nose. 
“What do you think?” he asks, “Reckon you got another one in ya. Just one more, hmm?”
“Okay,” you agree with a small smile. “Okay.” 
“Attagirl,” Joel praises. He brings the showerhead back to the space between your thighs but you catch his wrist, pulling it away from your body before he has the chance to use it on you again. 
“Want your fingers,” you request in a soft voice. “Can you just use your fingers on me?”
Joel nods. “We can try it,” he offers. “Was startin’ to get cold anyway. Why don’t you switch it back to the regular setting and put it back where it belongs?”
You nod and follow suit, playing with the settings before settling on the regular shower feature. You stand up to put the shower head back, letting the water wash over both you and Joel. On your way back to sit with him he holds your hips, steadying your shaky legs. You sit back between his legs, spreading your own. You gasp softly when Joel cautiously brings his right hand to your pussy, starting out with slow, careful circles on your clit. He groans in pain and shakes his head. “Does it hurt?” you ask.
“Mhm,” he answers. “Why don’t you help me out, hm? Use your own hand? Kind of your specialty, ain’t it?” Joel reaches for your hand and then stops suddenly. “Or,” he says, “What if we try something new?”
Oh, man. You’ve experienced a lot of firsts tonight, you’re not sure you can handle another. 
“That poor clit of yours is all worn out huh?” Joel asks. “C’mere. Turn around and face me,” Joel helps you up and then has you straddle his lap, his rock hard cock is between your bodies, the tip all blushed. “I’ve gotten pretty good at doin’ things with my left hand.”
You’re quick to retort. “Except for getting yourself off,” you tease.
“Oh, yeah. Rub it in,” he replies. He snakes his left hand back between your bodies, his middle two fingers pushing inside you. “Was thinkin’ could see how it works out. How’s this feel?” Joel curls his fingers inside of you in a repetitive come hither movement, stroking your g-spot.
“Good,” you tell him. It does feel good, if not a little unfamiliar. 
“Just focus on my fingers,” he instructs. As Joel works his fingers inside of you, you rest your forehead on his own. Breathing steadily, focusing on the feeling it stirs inside of you. It’s a new, different sort of pleasure. “Good girl,” he praises in whispers, “So good for me. You’re almost there.”
You begin to rock your hips into his hand, ignoring the way the hard material of the bench feels on your knees. Your clit is still untouched yet, here you are, that familiar feeling beginning to bloom in your tummy. Nothing’s ever made you feel the way you do right now, here in Joel’s arms. You’re liquid in his hands as your last orgasm begins to build, It’s deeper inside you, a slower build to ecstasy as Joel fucks you on his fingers.Your climax washes over you in waves, white-hot pleasure coursing through your through your body. “Oh my god, Joel,” You come with gasping breaths and moans for the last time, your fluttering walls choking Joel’s fingers and your arousal pooling in his hand. 
Joel holds you tightly in his arms as you come down from your high for the last time tonight. You’re not sure how much time passes, but when you feel ready, you lift yourself up on your knees and reach for Joel’s cock, guiding him to your entrance. 
“Woah, woah–” Joel stops you. 
“You don’t have to do a thing,” you try. “Just let me–fuck. I need you, need to fuck you.”
“After all that? You still want more?”
“Wanna take care of you,” you plead. You want him so bad, need to feel him, need to be closer to him, you need to watch his face. 
Joel smiles sadly as he shakes his head. “You know I can’t give that to ya,” he strokes your cheek, continuing, “God knows I wanna feel you too, sweetheart. We can’t get ahead of ourselves with my damn shoulder and all that. Just give me a few more days, hon.”
You nod in agreement. He’s right, unfortunately. 
“And then I’m all yours,” Joel reaches for your ass and lifts you up, then sits you back down on the bench after he stands up. He stands in front of you, holding his heavy cock between his thumb and first two fingers, bouncing it slightly. “Stay right there,” he says. “You just sit all pretty-like for me, just like ya always do.” 
Joel reaches for the back of your head and guides you to be closer to him, parting your lips with the tip of his cock. He tastes salty, heady and masculine. You cup his balls and squeeze gently, playing with them for a moment before gripping the base of his dick. Joel pushes into your mouth slowly. You swirl your tongue around his tip and his shaft, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks. You love the way he tastes, how he feels, how he jerks his hips slightly when you trail your tongue along an extra sensitive spot of his member. 
“So good,” he praises, “Always so good.” 
Joel maintains eye contact with you as he draws in and out of your mouth, watching you with warm, adoring expression. He loves your eyes, how you watch him as he fucks your mouth. 
Moments go by and Joel’s squeezing his eyes shut, his movements starting to become frenzied. “M’close, hon,” he warns. You reach for his hand with your own and squeeze it a couple of times as if to tell him it’s okay, that he can let go. Joel does just that. He comes with a deep groan, his soft tummy and his chest heaving as he breathes heavily, loudly through his nose. His thick, heavy cock twitches in your mouth as ribbon after ribbon of his hot spend coats your tongue and your throat, which you swallow with pleasure. Joel lets out a strangled sort of noise when you begin to pull your mouth off of him, but first licking his head a couple of times. “Too much, too much,” he warns urgently. Interesting. He can dish it but he can’t take it. But you keep your thoughts about Joel’s overstimulation threshold to yourself. “M’not done with you sweetheart, I promise,” Joel says as he comes down from his high, his breathing now beginning to steady. “Few more days and you’re in trouble.”
Your insides flutter at the prospect, what a welcome threat. You smile as Joel takes your hand and lifts you to your feet, shuts off the shower and reaches for your towel. He helps you to dry off, then dries his own self off before helping you to your feet. Still holding your hand, he takes you to his bedroom and lifts up the covers. You get underneath and Joel tucks you in, walks around to his own side of the bed and joins you. Knowing what you need after all of this, he doesn’t bother asking before pulling you into his side, kissing your cheek and the top of your head. Holding you close and telling you what a good job you did. Making sure you’re okay, asking if you need anything, water, a snack. Whatever. “No,” you tell him before closing your eyes. 
Just as you’re drifting off to sleep, Joel whispers in your ear, “Hon.” 
“What, Joel?” you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. 
“We forgot to wash my hair.”
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