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#i should have checked this one on my phone before posting it:((
lenny-1of2dads · 1 day
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It was the first time back home in a year. Jerry and Tony had got the idea we go check out the springs. Matt said he was cool with it. So Saturday morning we start the sixty mile ride. The four of us have been best friends since middle school. We fooled around in ninth grade then switched to girls. All still single at twenty, we were making excuses, like not enough girls, fear of rejection, and then Matt says I'm just gay.
I was driving and lost focus when I looked at him sitting next to me. Jerry and Tony lean forward from the back seat asking. What the hell, Seriously you do gay stuff in the Navy.
He explains: You could be on a ship for months at a time with fifty to hundred other guys that need it just as bad. Gay stuff happens. Over the next thirty minutes our best friend admits he is as gay as it gets. That is never going to change.
We arrive and head to our normal spot. We strip down to our underwear and all of us freeze in place as Matt is first to check the water out. He went from high school hot to hot male model. The three of us were looking at each other, look at Matt, drooling and freaking. While we all grew up some this was a transformation.
I was sitting on the side just watching when I yelled out Raise your hand if you want to do gay stuff. I then immediately raise my hand yelling...
I do, pick me. I stand jumping into the springs rushing over to Matt. Who is blushing at my announcement. I ask what are the chances we make out again like we did in ninth grade.
He smiled and replied I would love that.
The two of us go at for the first time over five years. This was the moment I know I am gay and always have been. We separate due to the hoots and hollers of our friends. Who were hugging each other inappropriately for two straight guys. They were closeted boyfriends all this time and no one had any idea.
That switch to females never happen. We all just went back in the closet. Jerry and Tony said they never looked at it like boyfriends, or gay. Best friends with benefits that was better when kept a secret. Before we left we all came out on the internet. We posted pictures of two gay couples, having fun. Then my little brother of all people blows up my phone.
Dad said Gay is when guys are into guys... He said you and Matt are in love. Dad said can see it the picture, the way you look at each other.
I thought for sure he would kick your butt out.
Hey, Can you ask Matt to help me score a date with his little sister for the school dance?
OMG mom is crying on the phone to grandma now. Grandma told mom she knew you were a fag along.
Should I stop saying that word because my brother is one?
Matt's sister said You were a seven maybe eight on facebook.
How can you be gay for five years and not do anything about it?
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1of2dads AI generated Art. Waterfall 3/27/24
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bambeebirdie · 9 months
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This is for @bluepeachstudios ‘s Ghost in a Shell. It’s really good you should read it.
I looked at exactly one picture of Jupiter Jim and went “yeah this should be enough to draw him.” I will not be answering if it actually was
Have some bonus content under the cut!
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And sketches
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(I love any character who can say “I don’t want to go back to prison” it’s like the funniest thing to me)
#i don’t know what compelled me to hand write that text. it’s not very good#we just don’t do things the easy way here. that’s why I render with an app on my phone. i don’t believe in simplicity#i had a plan for a lot more full body shots but then I couldn’t find any good lair references so I decided to screw it#I’ve never drawn rise characters before. this is my first time drawing them and expressions wow#I’m not very good at style copying and my default is so much rounder than rise is so that was just a woof#i should say all text in these shit posts aren’t canon at all. you can figure out where they likely take place yes#but they never show up in story#just a little fyi incase anyone decides to check it out#the entire inspiration for this post was just watching 2003 and going#WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY DID THAT??#ghost causally dropping the most wild facts about his life has like endless shit post potential#yeah I went to space. stole a ship. went to jail. aided a fugitive. held a dictator at gunpoint#and folks that’s just one arc. go watch 2003#i debated making angst as it is likely more currently topical but I’m a shit poster at heart#chapter 29. how we feeling boys? I’m actually doing rather well. i think just the fact the build up is over and I’m so tired I no longer#have emtions I’m just pumped for the next chapter whoo!#i started to lose mojo very fast while doing this but I wanted to finish today so I did. i hope it’s not too obvious#yeah anyways go read ghost in a shell#go watch 2003#go read ghost in a shell#i’m gonna go to bed now#ghost in the shell#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2018#fan fiction recommendations#fan art of a fan fic#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2003
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How I got scammed
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security
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I wuz robbed.
More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!
Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).
A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.
That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).
I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.
"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"
He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.
We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.
I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.
One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.
"That was the fraudster," she said.
Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.
Wait a sec.
He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.
I'd given him my entire card number.
Goddammit.
The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.
But I'd been conned.
Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:
https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/
That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.
Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.
I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.
Oh, shit, I'd been phished.
If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).
There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!
The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.
The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.
The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.
The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.
There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.
I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.
Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.
One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.
As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.
This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:
https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591
This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.
I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.
This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.
On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.
So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.
Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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eternalxvenus · 17 days
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ
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summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)
cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence
wc: 0.6k
notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though
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You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.
By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.
30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.
Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.
You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.
-
The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.
You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.
"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.
"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."
You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.
"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."
"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"
Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"
You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."
Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.
part 2
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likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
© All Rights Reserved. Do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.
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empty-movement · 4 months
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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
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Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 
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What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 
I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
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shellshocklove · 2 months
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lover, lover, lover | joel miller
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pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: after blurring the lines with your boss and pornstar joel in pismo beach, what happens when you come back home to LA?
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! reader is 23, joel is in his early 30s, accuracies and inaccuracies about the 70s and the porn industry, smoking of cigarettes (it's the 70s alright), misogyny (bc of the times™), swearing, use of pet names, oral (f+m receiving), use of sextoys, handjob, praise kink, soft!dom joel but also a hint of sub!joel, porn, degradation, no use of y/n
a/n: this is the part 2 to this fic. you should read the part 1 first or this will make no sense lmao. i know it's been months since i posted that one and i've gone back and forth a lot on if i was gonna write a second part, but here it is <3 again i wanna give a big thank you to my beloved @dustydaddyyy for encouraging me every step of the way, listening to me when i feel lost, and for reading through everything. i love you babes!!! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
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You jolted awake.
With a groan and a confusing squint, you sat up on your elbow. The back of your hand rubbed roughly at your eye as you looked around your darkened bedroom. The fan on your dresser huffed and swirled, blowing cool air in your direction with every pass – blowing away the memories of your dream.
You turned around to lay down again when you heard it. A distant sound of your phone ringing in your hallway. You let out another groan as you scooted out of bed, your nighty falling around your knees as your feet met the carpet floor. Shuffling down the hall you muttered a quiet “I’m coming, calm down,” to the phone.
You lifted the phone of the hook with a quiet, “Hello.”
“Did I wake ya, sweet girl?” the static voice answered.
“Joel, what time is it?” you sighed into the phone, your arm hitting the cool wall as you leaned against it.
“Um…” he started, probably checking his watch, “02.05.”
“Yes, you woke me up…” you told him, eyes tired and falling shut before blinking open in quiet panic, “Wait– did something happen? Why are you calling so late?” Fear squeezed around your heart, wrapping its cold hands around it as flashes of Joel getting arrested, or kidnapped… or something worse, played like a movie in your head.
“No,” he laughed, “No, sweetheart! I just couldn’t sleep.”
“So, you decided to wake me instead? You are aware we have a meeting with VCA tomorrow at 9am? I told you that didn’t I?” Two fingers pinched the bridge of your nose – trying to squeeze the sleep away.
You usually never forgot any of Joel’s meetings or commitments, and you prided yourself in staying on top of his schedule. You could swear you told him about the meeting the other day on the way back from Pismo Beach.
Pismo Beach.
You hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off. Two days had passed. Two days since… Since you’d had sex with Joel. Two days since he told you he wanted you to be his. Was Joel your boyfriend now? You couldn’t tell.
“Yeah, you did, you’re a good assistant,” he said, the smile evident in his voice.
The praise wrapped itself around your heart like a pink cloud of love – it made you smile.
“Thanks,” you whispered, your quiet voice making him chuckle down the other end.
You waited for his chuckle to die before you asked him, “Um… was there anything else?”
“You tired of me already, sweetheart?” he teased.
“No, never,” you shook your head, “it’s just late.”
“I know, I’m sorry baby,” the way he said it, he left the words hanging in the air.
A second passed in silence, and then another. You waited for him to say something else, but when the words never came you spoke, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Can I come over?” he almost cut you off, his words hanging at the end of your own like a teenager on a skateboard gripping tightly to the back of a bus.
“Tonight?” you asked, front teeth digging into your bottom lip.
“Yeah, now,” he clarified, “my car’s fixed– I can be there in probably… thirty minutes?”
“Ehm…” your head bumped against the wall. Thirty minutes? It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see Joel – you did – but it was so late, and you had to get up so early tomorrow.
“Maybe twenty if I speed,” he laughed.
“Joel,” you chided, a smiled tugged at your lips.
“Okay, thirty,” he relented.
You pushed off the wall, a finger curling around the phone cord. “If I say yes you have to be sneaky– and quiet. My landlord doesn’t allow boys to visit.”
“Good thing I ain’t a boy then, sweetheart.”
You snorted, teeth digging into your lip to kill a smile from blooming, “I’m serious, Joel! A girl got evicted last month because she got caught having her boyfriend over.”
“How’s that even legal?” his static voice wondered.
“I don’t know Joel, my landlord… she’s this old lady– super religious and she owns the whole complex– I think she inherited it from her late husband who was a developer or something. Anyway, every time I bump into her, she always questions me about if I have a boyfriend and then gives me this speech about how premarital sex is a sin, and how I’ll go to hell–”
“Shit, baby– move out,” Joel cut you off.
“I can’t,” you sighed, “It was the only place I could afford when I moved here.”
“Ain’t I payin’ you enough?” he teased, “I’ll talk to Ronald about a raise f’you want.”
You let out a chuckle, “I’m not sure it’s appropriate– or professional, to talk about this now, Joel.”
“Alright, baby– always so professional,” he playfully chided, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
You let out a hum, though a small knot tied itself in your stomach at the thought. You didn’t want Joel to get the wrong impression; that you wanted a raise now that you’d let him fuck you.
“See ya in 30?” he said, breaking the static silence, “I’ll be real sneaky.”
“Ok,” you said softly.
You told him your address, making him repeat your apartment number back to you before you hung up. You didn’t want him accidently knocking on the wrong door, and getting you evicted.
Padding back into your bedroom, you grabbed your silk robe hanging off the door. You twisted it around yourself while you turned on the lamp over your bedside table. The light bathed your room in a soft glow. You were starting to wake up a little now. Leaving your bedroom door ajar you walked back down your hallway with soft steps. Stepping into the kitchen, you grabbed a mug from your cupboard, busying yourself with making a cup of tea as you waited for Joel.
Thirty minutes later, you heard the buzz of your doorbell. Abandoning your cup on your kitchen table, you quickly hurried to your door, buzzing him in. Your heart hammered in your chest. The risk of getting caught so late on a Sunday night was low, but you could never be too careful. You waited for him in your doorway, your finger picking at your nail bed as you looked out for him to round the corner.
You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw him, a smile widening across your face as he picked up his pace in a small jog. His grin was wide as well, all teeth and crinkles as he closed the space between you. With a small glance over his shoulder, he made sure he hadn’t been caught as you ushered him inside.
The light in your hallway was low, tinting everything in a warm yellow hue. His hands were on you in an instant, strong hands gliding over your waist from behind as you locked your door. In the next moment you felt his chest press against your back, locking you to his body in an engulfing hug. His nose dragged down the column of your neck, pressing sweet kisses into your skin.
“Hi,” he mumbled.
Leaning into his touch you hummed out a greeting. His grip tightened around you before he turned you around in his hands, your hands automatically wrapping themselves around his neck. God, he was handsome. Soft brown eyes shining under the soft light, you watched as they took you in, traveling down your bare face, down to your silk robe hiding your nighty. A sting of embarrassment panged in your chest under his gaze, maybe you should’ve changed into something else, something a little sexier. Then you realized what kind of sexy he was used to, sheer lingerie, stockings, garter belts and high heels, not whatever underwear you were hiding away in your drawers.
“Shit,” he whispered, eyes blown wide in the low light, “let me kiss you properly, sweetheart.”
His big palm cupped your cheek, bringing you closer before he brushed his lips over yours. He tasted like a mix of his last cigarette and beer. You didn’t realize how much you’d missed his touch, his lips against yours. Joel hummed into the kiss, nose bumping into yours as he held you close, thumb ghosting over your skin. The kiss was quick, but still tender, and when you broke apart, the embarrassment from earlier had faded.
“Missed your lips baby,” he whispered against them, emphasizing his words with another peck.
“You did?” your voice was breathless, eyes half lidded from his affection.
He didn’t answer, only catching your lips in another mind-blowing kiss. His hand not on your cheek traveled from your waist to the curve of your ass, where it squeezed. You jumped a little from his touch, breaking his kiss. Immediately Joel removed his hands, catching himself as he took a step back.
“No?” he asked, eyes searching yours.
A flood of warmth filled your chest, “No, it’s okay– it’s just… late.”
His eyes softened at your words, his palm finding your cheek again to softly rub his thumb over your skin, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay…” you trailed off, your hand grabbing his other hand to intertwine your fingers, “Let’s go to bed?”
With his hand in yours Joel trailed after you down the hallway.
“The bathroom is just in here if you wanna use it?” you stopped at the end of your hallway, pointing to your closed bathroom door. Joel gave you a short nod and a smile, and let go of your hand, but not before giving it a little squeeze.
You stepped backwards to push open your bedroom door while he vanished to your bathroom. The alarm clock on your bedside table showed 3.08 in big red letters when your eyes flickered to it as you pulled at the strings of your silk robe. You twisted out of it and hung it back on the hook on your door, before you climbed back into your bed, waiting for Joel.
He walked into your room a few minutes later. You watched him from under the covers, eyes hooded with tiredness as he shed his clothes. Naked, safe for his briefs, he haphazardly folded his clothes, eyes flitting around your room for a place to put them.
“You can just leave them on the dresser,” you said, all cozy under the covers.
Sending you a small nod he sauntered over to your dresser with his clothes half-folded in his hand, where he placed them down gently. He stood there for a moment longer with his back turned, something catching his eye.
“So,” he spoke up, “what’s the review?”
“Huh?” You were confused.
You watched how his shoulders shook, grabbing something off your dresser before turning around, hiding it behind his back as he closed the space between you. You were still confused, a furrow pulling at your eyebrows.
“What d’ya prefer? This,” he started, revealing what he was hiding behind his back, “Or the real thing?”
In his hand he held the box with the dildo he’d modeled for. You’d forgotten all about it in your back seat while you were in Pismo Beach, only noticing it again as you’d parked outside your apartment. You had been meaning to give it back to Joel, didn’t take his ‘joke’ of you keeping it at face value, but then you’d forgotten all about it, leaving you with no choice other than to bring it inside.
“Joel,” you felt a flash of heat burn your cheeks.
“What? I wanna know,” he grinned, fingers fiddling with the cardboard to open it.
You gave him a chastising kick from under the covers, trying to shut the conversation down, but it only made him huff out a laugh.
“I don’t know, I haven’t tried it,” you said truthfully. The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.
“What? Not even once,” his eyebrows knitted together, he almost looked disappointed.
You shook your head, “I was gonna give it back to you when I dropped you off on Friday, but it slipped my mind.”
“Why? I gave it to you,” he pulled the dildo out, the supposed perfect recreation of his package.
“Joel, you couldn’t have been serious about that?” you breathed out a laugh. It was hard to take him seriously with the toy in his hand.
“Well, now I’m a little disappointed, sweetheart,” he placed the box and the dildo on your bedside table, next to your alarm clock, “I really wanted to know your thoughts.”
He crept up the bed as you shifted over to make space, holding open the duvet for him to slip under.
“I’m sorry, Joel– I just didn’t think you were serious about that… and,” you trailed off when he wrapped his strong arms around your body, twisting around in his arms as he pulled you close against him.
“And, what?” he said, his breath huffing against the shell of your ear.
“I… uh, I haven’t… since,” you didn’t know how to say it.
But Joel knew, pulling you closer to rock his hips against your ass, “Haven’t what, sweetheart? Touched yourself?”
He wasn’t hard, but he wasn’t not hard – you could feel the semi he was sporting against your backside. It made you lose your trail of thought, as memories of the last time he held you against his body like this, filled your mind.
You had enough sense to shake your head, not trusting your voice to come out as words and not a strangled moan.
“No?” he teased with another rock of his hips, “Well, I have, sweetheart– touched myself thinkin’ of you.”
“Joel,” you couldn’t fight the whine from escaping as he rocked his hips against you again, his big hand slipping under your nighty.
“Touched myself thinkin’ about this beautiful fuckin’ body of yours,” his hand splayed over your tummy, traveling upwards to grab at your breast. “Thought about these pretty tits,” his voice got lower, whispering in your ear as he flicked a finger over your nipple, making you sigh. He let go of your breast, hand gliding down your body to ghost over the hem of your panties, “And this tight little pussy,” he finished.
“Joel,” you sighed, body reacting automatically to his touch. His breath in your ear sent goosebumps down the whole of your body, and a whine fell from your lips as he palmed your heat over your panties, feeling your arousal starting to soak the cotton.
“Yes, sweetheart, say my name as I touch your pussy. Tell me who’s makin’ you feel good.”
Fuck, it took all your strength to gather your thoughts, “Joel, it’s–” you let out a gasp as his fingers found your clit.
“What, baby?”
“It’s– It’s late,” you managed to breathe out.
And just like that, the spell was broken. His hand slipped from your cunt to rest over your waist. You twisted around to face him, a pang of guilt filling your chest.
“I’m s-sorry, I just–”
He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours in a quick kiss. “Don’t you apologize to me,” he said, eyes boring into yours, “If you ain’t feelin’ it, I ain’t feelin’ it, okay?”
You felt yourself nod, your chest filling with gratefulness. You wanted Joel so much, you did, you wanted him to feel good, but you didn’t want it at 3am when you had to wake up in four hours.
“Thank you,” you whispered gratefully, your forehead falling against his.
He shifted his face, cheek brushing against your forehead until you felt him press a kiss to your skin. “Nothin’ to thank me for, my sweet girl.”
You shifted closer to him, cheek boring into his naked chest, “It’s not that I don’t want to,” you told him, “I’m just so tired.”
Pulling you closer to his body, Joel wrapped his strong arms around you, “’s okay, baby, you just close your pretty eyes, okay?”
You nodded against his head before you whispered, “Good night, Joel.”
“Night, sweet girl.”
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“Hey,” you felt a nudge in your side pull you from your dream, “How d’you turn off this thing?”
Then you heard it. Your alarm. The beeping was loud and obnoxious, but it did the job to wake you, usually.
With heavy limbs you sat up on your elbow, goosebumps spreading over the newly exposed skin as you leaned over Joel’s body to press the snooze button. His big hands found your waist when you leaned back, guiding you to straddle his body.
His lips found yours in a soft kiss, then another before he mumbled, “Good mornin’,” against your lips.
He didn’t give you the chance to reply as he pulled you into yet another kiss. It took you by surprise, your hand coming up to press into the pillow next to his head, to hold your weight. Under the duvet you felt his hand travel down your body, slipping under the hem of your nighty and dragging upwards, cupping your ass as he pulled the fabric with him. His touch ignited something in you, making you whimper against his lips.
“There she is,” he whispered, pulling away from your lips with a loud smack to press kisses along your jaw. It made you sigh, your body going lax in his arms as he pulled you closer, mind going blank from his loving. Then he suddenly tightened his arms around your body, his strong hand splaying over your back as he flipped you around to lay on your back beneath him. A small yelp fell from your lips at the sudden movement, the yelp turning into a giggle when he dived into the crook of your neck, his mustache tickling you as he pressed small kisses against your skin.
With a hasty hand he balled the fabric of your nighty in his hands, pushing it up your body to reveal your naked body to him. He sucked a breath through his teeth at the sight, eyes hungry with lust as they raked over your form.
“Need to fuckin’ taste you, sweetheart.” His voice was a low rasp, coated in residual sleep and arousal, “Been thinkin’ about how sweet you taste this whole weekend.”
You couldn’t hold back the whine at the back of your throat at his words, hips bucking by their own accord where he had your legs splayed open over his thighs. Arousal spread like electricity through your body, where it pooled like dripping honey in your tummy.
“Please,” you begged when his fingers found the hem of your panties, his pointer finger dipping beneath the band to run it across your skin.
“Yeah?” he coaxed, “Want me to eat your little pussy, sweet girl?” his finger stretched at the elastic, letting it slap against your skin as he pulled away. Under him you whined, frantic hands finding the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. In your hurry to kiss him, you missed his mouth, clumsily bumping your nose into his instead.
It made him breathe out a shallow chuckle, “Okay, baby, okay. I’ll take care of ya.”
He pulled back from you, your hands around his neck falling to your sides, and softly hitting your mattress. Grabbing at the soft flesh at the back of your thighs, he spread them wider, putting your covered cunt on display for him. His eyes drank in your body, studied how soft and pliant you’d gone from his touch.
You watched his face, his eyes, his lip twitching with a wicked smile when you jumped under his finger, starting to press slow circles down on your covered clit. He dipped his finger lower, caressing your folds over the fabric before he pressed two fingers into your covered hole as far as your panties allowed. You could feel how soaked you already were, your dripping cunt fluttering around nothing when he pulled back.
“Let’s get you out of these, huh?” he said, voice dripping with pity, “My sweet girl’s just beggin’ to be touched, ain’t she?”
To your own surprise you managed to peep out an answer, “Yes.” Your voice came out strangled and begging, your mind clouded over with Joel.
“Yes, that’s right, baby, you’re such a good girl, let me hear you.” He hooked his finger under the elastic, tapping your ass lightly. You lifted up off the mattress, helping him drag your soaked panties down your legs.
Under him you felt your mouth drop open slightly, watching him as he clasped your panties in his hand, his thumb rubbing at the wetness with a cocky smile tugging at the corner of his lips. With his thumb coated in you, he dropped your panties, losing them in the sheets as he brought his attention back on you.
His eyes bored into yours as he lowered himself between your legs pressing soft kisses against your inner thigh. His big hands splayed over the back of your legs, pushing them closer to your chest to putt your naked and dripping cunt back on display. You held your breath as you waited for him to finally touch you where you wanted, but then he hesitated. The air was charged with arousal, his breath fanning over your throbbing clit. A thought of how you might die if he didn’t touch you soon, crossed your mind.
With a desperate whine, your hand tangled in his hair. You didn’t know what to do, so you begged, “Please, Joel?”
His eyes found yours immediately, where he saw how much you needed him, but he needed it in words, “Y’want me to touch you, sweetheart? To eat your pussy?”
“Yes,” the words fell from your lips so fast you almost cut him off, “Please,” you added for good measure.
Your consent was all he wanted. He dipped his head to lick ever so gently at your clit, making you mewl under him, a needy desperate sound, begging for more. When he wrapped his lips around your clit, and sucked, that’s when you turned into a withering moaning mess under him, hips bucking into his mouth, chasing more of the pleasure he was giving you.
Joel hummed against you, the bass of his voice vibrating against your most sensitive spot, pulling you deeper under the blanket of pleasure.
When his hand loosened its grip around the back of your thigh to caress your folds, a moan got caught in your throat. “P-please” you stuttered, dying to have his fingers split you open and coaxing you towards your release.
But Joel removed his fingers, continuing to explore you with his tongue instead. He dipped down, tongue lapping at your folds, tasting your arousal like he told you’d he’d been dying to. With one fat lick up the length of your pussy he took your clit back in his mouth, going back to lapping and circling it just right, coaxing you closer and closer.
“Fuck.”
You were hauling quickly towards your orgasm. Your eyebrows twisted together in a tight frown, fingers gripping and tugging at his hair, your leg close to shaking with the intensity. You were right there on the edge.
Then he abruptly pulled away. The disappointing mewl escaped you on instinct, and Joel laughed. Laughed. Your heart twisted in on itself at the sound.
“W-what?” you muttered, confusion painting your features when he sat up.
Joel grinned down at you, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned down to your face and cupped your chin, his thumb rubbing your skin with tenderness.
“Want you to be good f’me, sweet girl, can you do that?”
Your head moved in his hand, a timid nod as you searched his face. “I–I can be good.”
His grin widened, all teeth and crinkles around his eyes. He squeezed your cheeks together lightly, a small pout forming to kiss away.
“Good girl.”
His mustache tickled your cupid’s bow, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, taste how desperate for him you were.
He left you breathless when he pulled away, your body all loose and pliant from his touch, not registering what he was doing until he was back to sitting between your legs. Your eyes raked over his body, his broad shoulders, trailing his happy trail down his torso to his waist, noticing the shape of his hard cock in his briefs, a wet spot staining them where the head was.
Fuck, you wanted him inside you.
Then you noticed his hands, and what he was in them. The dildo, of him. You shifted up the bed in surprise. Your nighty fell down over your chest as you sat up on your elbows, watching him with wide eyes.
He watched you too, turning the dildo in his hand to nudge at your entrance as he leaned forward to hover over your body, a big hand on your chest pushing you down.
“Are you gonna be good?” 
“Joel,” you gasped, feeling your hole flutter in anticipation.
“Are you?” he pressed, rubbing the silicone head slowly up and down your folds, coating it in your arousal.
“Y-yeah, y-yes,” you nodded, face heating from the obscene slick sounds of your arousal.
With a wicked grin, his eyes flicked back to your aching cunt, before he pushed the head inside slowly, feeding your more and more until the dildo was buried inside you. A broken moan fell from your lips, mouth dropping open from the pleasure of being stretched.
“There you go, sweetheart. ‘s big stretch, isn’t it? Doing so good for me, my good girl, honey, my good fuckin’ girl.”
He pushed the toy in and out in shallow thrusts, working you open around the fake cock. It wasn’t the same, but still the stretch was divine. With his eyes glued to your cunt he pulled the dildo all the way out, only the head notched at your entrance, before slowly thrusting in all the way. You whimpered when you felt him nudge at your spot inside, your hand desperately grabbing for his other arm to anchor you from falling over the edge too soon.
“Joel,” you whimpered, “P-please, t-touch m-my–”
Joel picked up his pace, fucking you faster and deeper with the dildo, the obscene squelching sounds of your cunt filled the air between your moans. His grip tightened in your hand, guiding it to hover over your clit.
“Touch your what, honey?” He teased, pressing your fingers down, guiding them in tight circles.
“Ah– fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the coil in your tummy tighten, and tighten, and tighten.
Then it all became too much. With a broken cry you came, squeezing hard around the fake cock. Joel continued fucking you, a small gush of liquid pouring down over the toy with each thrust, as you pulsed and squirmed around it.
Catching your breath, you came down from your high, while small jolts of pleasure crashed over you, making your legs shake like a leaf in a storm. It was like your ears were ringing, before you realized they were actually ringing.
“This fuckin’ alarm,” Joel muttered, hovering over you to turn it off.
His voice brought you back to earth, as you turned your head to look at the time. Shit, you were gonna be late!
With shaky hands you glided your hand down your cunt to grab at the base of the toy still inside you, “Joel, we’re gonna be late for your meeting,” you murmured, slipping the dildo from your cunt. Everything was sticky and messy between your legs, a big wet stain growing under your ass.
Joel pushed your hand away, like he was scolding you for touching what was his. “We can be a little late, sweetheart,” he said calmly, before ducking down to press a kiss to your clit.
You shifted up the bed, away from his touch, anxiety an endless spiral in your tummy. “No, we can’t, Joel– They told me it’s a pitch for a new movie, you’ll miss out on a big opportunity if you don’t show.”
Between your legs, Joel’s head dropped to your chest, as a pained sigh left his lungs. He went quiet for a beat as you watched the messy curls at the top of his head, then he lifted his head to look at you, “Okay, then.”
You felt bad leaving him hanging as you both got out of bed, his rock-hard cock strained desperately against the fabric of his briefs – just dying to be touched.
“Joel, I-I’m sorry,” you closed the space between you, snaking your arms around him.
“Sweetheart, ya need to stop apologizin’”, he placed a dry kiss to the top of your head, steady hands finding your waist. Your heart swelled in your chest. He made you feel so safe.
You almost muttered another ‘I’m sorry’, before catching yourself, “Okay,” you nodded against his chest. You basked in his touch for another minute, his strong arms around you, breathing in the comforting scent of him – the intoxicating mix of his faded cologne, cigarettes and sex.
“You were enjoyin’ it though, weren’t you?” Joel asked as he pulled away. You could see the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked down at you, “So tell me, sweetheart... it better’n the real thing?”
“No,” you said, your own teasing smile tickling your lips as you detangled yourself from him, and turned around to head towards the bathroom, “Real thing’s better.”
Suddenly you felt his hands on your hips, and then Joel was pulling you back against him. He pressed himself against you so you could feel how hard he still was, his aching cock barely contained by his briefs.
“Attagirl,” he half-whispered, half-groaned into your ear, breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. 
“I need a shower,” you said with a giggle, stepping away from him before turning around again, only for Joel to pull you close once more. He found your eyes, his hands barely loosening their grip on your body. You could still feel him against you, his hard cock now pressed against your stomach. “Do you… maybe,” you bit down on your bottom lip, wide eyes searching his face.
“Wanna shower with you?” he helped you with a grin, and you nodded.
Your shower was cramped, too small to fit two people, and even though you had been the one to ask, you still felt nervous under the streaming water. He looked so good; your eyes couldn’t help but trail the water droplets racing down his thick muscles. He watched you too, but more openly, his eyes not afraid to trail down your body – to glide over your tits, down your back, and over the curve of your ass.
And then there was his cock, still hard and leaking, making its presence known between you like a third person. What made it worse was that he didn’t even acknowledge it, just went about washing his body like nothing, pushing back his wet curls as he rinsed your shampoo from his hair.
Did he want you to say something? The thought fluttered in your stomach.
“Um, Joel?” your voice echoed against the tiles.
You watched as he tipped his head forward from under the showerhead, eyes blinking at you as soapsuds hit his broad shoulders and ran down his chest.
“You know– um… I can–”
Jesus Christ! Could you be less sexy.
When he didn’t say anything, you breathed out a nervous sigh, eyes flitting down to his cock, hoping he would take the hint.
And he did.
“You wanna touch my cock, sweet girl?” His whole demeanor shifted.
“Would that– would that be okay?” you said, your teeth catching on your bottom lip.
“More than okay, sweetheart,” he said, with a devilish grin.
You took a few steps closer, a shaky hand landing on his waist while the other hovered between your bodies, right above where his heavy cock twitched in anticipation.
You didn’t know what to do. Well, you did. You’d seen it enough times at work to know, but you’d never actually done it before. Another reminder of just how inexperienced you were when it came to all of this. You looked at him with uncertainty, for guidance, and without uttering a single word, Joel knew what you were asking.
He curled his fingers around your wrist, bringing it up to his face, and spat. Using that tender grip he guided your hand down between your bodies again – the back of your hand brushed against the rough hair of his happy trail – and down to the base of his aching cock.
“There ya go,” he whispered as your fingers wrapped around him, Joel’s spit smearing over his shaft as you moved upwards in an experimenting stroke, “Good girl, just like that,” he hissed through his teeth.
You tilted your head to watch his face. Watched how his eyes were so fixated on your hand wrapped around him as you began to slowly stroke his cock, familiarizing yourself with the weight and feel of him in your hand. You didn’t miss the way his breathing shifted, releasing a sound you’d never heard come from his lips before. A whimper.
“Am–am I doing okay?” you asked, your eyes following his down to your hand wrapped around him. He was so big in your hand, your fingers struggling to meet around the girth of him.
He hissed out a strained laugh. “Yeah, baby, you’re doing so good– massage the head for me a little,” Joel groaned.
You did as you were told, bringing your hand up to the tip with a tug, squeezing out a pearl of precum. It dripped down over your hand, your thumb skating over the sensitive head, and smearing it all over.
“Shit,” Joel hissed, “keep doin’ that, sweetheart, bein’ so good f’me,” he praised, encouraging you.
You’d never seen Joel like this before. So at your mercy– at anyone’s mercy – always the one to take charge. But now he was falling apart from your touch. He encouraged you further as his breath got heavier. You sped up the strokes over his cock, and his body slumped into yours, face buried in the crook of your neck, as he whispered breathy babblings of praise into your skin. A glowing feeling of pride grew in your chest as you brought him closer and closer to his release.
“I’m close, baby,” he whimpered in your ear, “don’t fuckin’ stop.”
So you didn’t.
With your hand tight around his cock, you quickened your pace, tracing your thumb over his slit just like he’d told you to do earlier. A slick noise of spit and precum echoed against your bathroom tiles. His thighs tensed, his hand grabbed at your waist to pin you to his body, and you knew he was right on the edge.
“Fuck, I’m comin’.”
With a string of praising curses, he came apart in your hand. His thighs clenched, his heavy balls tightening as cum spurted from his tip in ribbons over your hand. The bass of his voice vibrated against your skin, as you continued working him through his high, slicking up your hand and fingers even more.
You squeezed him until there was only a small dribble pearling at his tip. A white stream of cum ran down his cock and down to his balls, dripping down onto the tiles of your shower floor. And then it was too much, and Joel hissed, lifting his head from the crook of your neck to dab your hand away.
He didn’t say anything, only grabbing your face with both hands, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. With your hand messy from his release, you didn’t know where to touch him, opting to grab at his elbow with your other hand to steady yourself.
Out in the hallway, your phone rang, forcing you to breathlessly pull away. With a sorry smile, you ran your messy hand under the showerhead before quickly pulling at the shower curtain.
The phone rang loudly as you tiptoed down the hallway. Water droplets ran down your skin, leaving a trail of dark spots on the carpet. Your hand clung to the towel you’d wrapped around yourself while the other hurried to answer the phone.
“Hello?” you sang.
“Hi, sweetie, it’s your uncle,” a gruff voice answered.
“Oh, hi,” you said, leaning against the wall.
Down the hall your bathroom door opened, steam framing Joel’s body as he stepped out naked as the day he was born, with a towel resting over his shoulders. His heavy cock soft between his strong thighs– it was like a scene straight out of a porno, one he’d probably starred in. He caught your eye, and smiled, making his way towards you as he brought the towel up to dry his hair, his biceps flexing with the effort.
“What was that?” you stuttered, completely missing what your uncle had said on the other end.
“Almost hung up on ya, I said,” your uncle repeated.
“Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower.”
“I was just calling to say I’m driving a Corvette down to LA in a couple of days for a client. Was thinking I’d take you out to dinner– catch up– make sure you’re not getting up to any trouble down there,” he laughed.
His tone was lighthearted, but you couldn’t help but cringe. The trouble in question reaching his hand out to trace a drop trailing down your exposed collarbone, ducking down to place a teasing kiss to your skin.
“D-dinner sounds nice,” you managed to choke out, “Um, I know a nice Italian place down in Santa Monica.”
“Sounds great, sweetie! I’ll call ya after I’ve dropped off the car Thursday afternoon,” your uncle’s static voice replied.
“Thursday afternoon,” you repeated, “Ok, see you then!”
“So…” Joel started, his arms snaking their way around your form. “I ain’t the only man who wants a piece of ya,” he joked, after you’d hung up the phone,
“That was my uncle, Joel,” you let him know, your body melting against his touch.
“He’s takin’ you to dinner?” he queried.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “he’s driving a car down here for work, so he wanted to see me.”
Joel hummed, dropping his head to brush his lips over yours as his hand splayed over your waist slid down to the curve of your ass.
“Nonono,” you chuckled, pulling away, “Joel, we’re already late as is!”
“So what,” Joel groaned, pulling you back for another kiss, hands tightening their grip on your ass, before trailing soft kisses to the corner of your mouth, “We could stay in ya know... enjoy the real thing.”
Joel’s kisses continued along the line of your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.
“As tempting as that sounds,” you let out through a small groan as you felt his tongue tickle that spot under your jaw, “We can’t cancel this meeting.”
Joel’s lips stopped their descent towards your neck, and he took a breath, the force of it tickling your skin, before he lifted his head, lips grazing across your jaw as he kissed the corner of your mouth again.
“Later,” you promise him, eyes looking into his. Joel’s smile was wistful, another small sigh escaping through his nostrils before he brushed his lips over yours.
“Later.”
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“Let’s get started? Or do we want some coffees before we start?” Ronald asked from his seat at the head of the table.
You were seated in a chair in the corner, the cigarette smoke hung low over the room. In your lap your notebook rested, cracked spine opened to a random blank page while your fingers fiddled with your pen.
All the big important men from VCA were here, eager to finally work with the infamous Joel Packer on their new big-budget project. The last couple of years had been big for Joel, multiple magazine photoshoots, longer features and obviously modeling for a sextoy, but this film would be his biggest opportunity. It would bring in a lot of money, and Ronald knew it. He couldn’t hide the dollar signs in his eyes behind his ‘friendly’ grin.
“Ey, sweetheart!” Ronald raised his voice. You lifted your gaze from your notebook, curious as to what he was yelling about.
“Yeah, you!” He looked straight at you, a hand waving you towards him. Did he forget your name? You wouldn’t put it past him.
Leaving your notebook and pen in your chair you walked over to him, hands wringing behind your back as you stood behind Joel where he sat to Ronald’s right. He looked at you with impatience, a crude finger motioning you closer.
“Why don’t you go get us all some coffees, sweetie?” he spat out the order, his sour breath hitting you in your face.
“Um, uh,” you looked to Joel for help. This wasn’t your job; this was a job for an intern. It was important for you to be here, to take notes, to know what arrangements needed to be done, and which people to call.
“Um, uh,” Ronald parroted, “just do it– isn’t it what I’m paying you for?”
It wasn’t, but now everyone was looking at you. Everyone except for Joel. His gaze bored into the teak in front of him, fingers tightly pinched around a cigarette. With no help from Joel, you held your tongue and muttered a “Yes, sir,” to Ronald before you turned on heels.
“Alright! I wanna start by introducing Cheryl here, making her film debut alongside Joel–” you heard Ronald start as you slipped through the door of the meeting room.
Outside the meeting room, you were met with a brown hallway, identical to the left and right. Wood paneling clad the walls, and you couldn’t help your eyes from peeking through the glass partition walls of other meeting rooms as you made your way down the hall. Everything looked the same. You turned a corner, and you swore you’d been there before. After walking for what felt like a small eternity, you made it to a break room with a small kitchenette.
The coffee in the pot looked old and stale, and you poured it out in the sink. As you waited for the fresh pot to brew you searched through the cupboards for a coffee carafe. The cupboards of the kitchenette were pretty empty, only filled with mugs and drinking glasses. With a sigh you kneeled to look through the cabinet below the sink.  You tried your best to be fast, not wanting to miss anything important. Finally, you found what you were looking for. With fresh coffee in one hand, and paper cups in the other, you made your way back down a hallway you hoped would bring you back to the meeting.
A couple of wrong turns later you let out a sigh of relief as you peaked Joel through the glass partition wall of the meeting room. This better be good enough for Ronald, you thought as you opened the door, not bothering to knock.
“And I think that’s about it,” one of the men opposite Joel said as you placed the coffee and paper cups on the table, “We’ll break for lunch and go ahead with the chemistry test later today.”
Did you really just miss the whole meeting?
“Sounds great,” Ronald said, pushing his chair out, and standing to his feet to shake the hands of the men from VCA. Then the rest of the room came alive as people got up from their seats and gathering their things. In front of you a chair bumped into you, pushing you a little off balance.
“Oh! Sorry– didn’t see you there.”
It was Cheryl, Joel’s new co-star. She was young, just turned twenty-one if you remembered correctly, and gorgeous. Her blonde hair, curled to perfection, cascaded down her back. Her light blue dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her curves while the deep v-neck showed off her cleavage.
You shook your head and put on a smile, muttering an “It’s okay,” as you stepped out of her way, and shifted closer to Joel. He was busy gathering the papers spread out in front of him on the table, tapping them lightly against the teak before gathering them in his hands, turning towards you and Cheryl.
When you didn’t make a move to leave, Cheryl cleared her throat, widening her eyes at Joel as they flickered towards you. Your heart sunk in your chest. It didn’t take a genius to take her hint – you knew when you weren’t wanted.
“I’ll uh… I’ll wait for you down in the reception,” you muttered to Joel, “Let me know what you want for lunch, and I’ll get you something.” Before he could say anything, you turned around to leave, grabbing your notebook and pen.
You knew you shouldn’t have looked back as you made your way out the door, but you did. The cold stone in your chest sank lower as you watched them. Cheryl’s body curled towards Joel as they talked, her hand landing on his bicep as she let out a giggly laugh. It made your heart sting, but maybe not as much as the ache of watching Joel’s bright smile, the one he so often gave you.
Over fifteen minutes later, Joel finally walked into the reception where you waited for him. You were hard to miss where you sat on one of the couches, reading a magazine, the only person occupying the space.
“Whatcha readin’?” he asked, slumping down next to you, so close his arm brushed against yours.
You couldn’t watch his bright eyes, and the cheeky smile tugging at his lips. So, you held up one of the porn magazines you’d grabbed off the coffee table, blocking his view of your face, substituting it with the woman adorning the front and posing seductively to the camera, showing off the biggest boobs you’d ever seen.
“Industry news,” you shrugged.
You earned yourself a chuckle, “Anythin’ interestin’?”
“Not really,” you sighed, quickly shutting the magazine, and throwing it haphazardly on the table.
You could feel his warmth beside you, his broad frame, and strong arms. The same arms who’d held you so close this morning. Still, you didn’t look at him, your gaze falling to your fiddling hands in your lap. A piece of skin around your thumb had come loose, and it burned as you pulled at it.
“Um…” you started, still watching your hands, “What’s the plan for lunch? You want me to go down to that deli you like– get you a sandwich?”
Joel’s arm brushed against you as he shifted in his seat, bucking his hips slightly to fish out his pack of cigarettes from his back pocket. “Ain’t no need to do that for me, sweetheart,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cigarette between his lips.
“Well, it’s kinda my job,” you mumbled, your face pulling up into a slight frown as you ripped the loose skin around your thumb.
“Yeah– but,” Joel drew a breath of his cigarette.
Now you looked at him, eyebrows pulled tight in a real frown, “But what?”
He watched you, eyes dancing over your face as he took another drag, releasing the smoke out the corner of his mouth.
“Nothin’.”
You couldn’t interpret his face with the way he was looking at you, almost as he was searching for something. A silence grew between you – it was ugly and festering, like a canyon had grown between you – it was something you’d never felt with Joel before.
“A sandwich sounds nice,” he finally spoke across the silence, and you nodded.
“Um– can I borrow your car?” you asked, clearing your throat of your anxiety.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” It was like your question had woken him.
Joel had driven you both into work today, your car sitting pretty in its parking space outside your apartment complex. He rested his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray on the table before he fished his car keys from his jeans pocket and handed them to you.
“They have me set up in a trailer out on the lot next door– I’ll wait for ya there, alright?” The hand handing you his keys locked around yours, caging them between your hands.
You squeezed his hand, the familiar weight of it in your hand, the tenderness in which he held you, made you feel a little better. Shrinking the deep canyon between you to a ravine.
“Um, why exactly?” you asked, eyes glued to your intertwined hands.
“Shit– sorry,” Joel shook his head and shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours, “they want me and Cheryl to have a chemistry test before they go ahead with signin’ the contracts. It’s nothin’ big or anythin’– just a blowjob.”
Just a blowjob.
You nodded slowly. It was just a blowjob, but it was a blowjob from Cheryl. Cheryl who was younger with the perfect body. Cheryl who made him smile and laugh. Cheryl who could give him a blowjob, and not some sorry excuse of a handjob.
“Oh, okay,” you peeped, loosening your grip around his hand, clasping the keys in your hand.
You got up from the couch before he could say anything more, “I’ll go get you your lunch then.”
His cigarette resting in the ashtray had burned out, like your conversation with Joel. You bent slightly to grab your purse when his hands clasped around your wrist, bringing your attention back on him.
“’s everythin’ alright?” he asked you as he got up from the couch as well, closing the space between you.
Your lips pulled into a smile, one you hoped was convincing, “Yeah! Why wouldn’t it?”
His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, shifting your face to look at him. “’s just for work, you know,” he told you.
Your head was nodding even before he’d finished talking, your face still pulled tight in a smile, “Yeah, Joel, I know.”
“Okay,” he whispered and leaned closer. You shifted your face in his palm, his lips hitting your other cheek in a short peck before you were pulling away. His fingers like a bracelet around your wrist, fell heavy to his side.
“See you in a little bit,” you told him before pushing the door to the reception open and stepping outside.
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Some forty minutes later you were knocking on a trailer door with the sign ‘Joel Packer’ hanging on the front. In your other hand you were balancing two coffees and a bag with two sandwiches. You knocked again when nothing happened, scared you’d shown up to the wrong trailer for a second, even with the sign telling you, you were in the right place.
“Joel? I have your lunch.”
“Come in,” he answered almost immediately.
You opened the trailer door and stepped inside, careful not to spill the coffees all over the carpeted floor of his trailer as you balanced everything. With the door closed you turned around, eyes scanning the cramped room for Joel.
He was laying on the couch, one hand down the front of his pants where he palmed himself over his briefs – a lazy smile resting over his features as he took you in.
“Oh! Sorry,” you quickly looked away, scurrying to place his food on the nearest table.
Behind you Joel got up from the couch, crossing the small space between you to wrap his arms around your body, and press his front against your ass. You jumped in his grasp, your hands finding his where they rested around your waist.
“Stop apologizin’” he whispered in your ear, his teeth catching on your earlobe, “was just gettin’ ready, baby,” his breath was hot against the column of your neck, and you felt his cock grow against your ass. “Ain’t gonna have any trouble gettin’ hard now though,” he chuckled.
“Joel,” you whined, the sound pathetic at the back of your throat.
“Yes, baby, let me hear ya,” you could feel the bass in his voice vibrate against your skin.
His hands spread over your body, drinking you in with his touch, grabbing at your breast while pressing tender kisses to your neck. You melted against him, body soft and pliant. In an instant you were back in your memories from this morning, and you couldn’t fight the whimper from falling from your lips. With closed eyes your memories mixed with your present. Images of how he’d kissed you, touched you, and taken care of you this morning blended with the firm press of his body against yours and his calloused hands exploring you; like how you could still see your reflection in rippling water.
“Joel,” you tried again.
“I know, my sweet girl,” he cooed.
Behind you he bucked his hips against your ass, the bulge of his hard cock splitting your cheeks. You felt your arousal wet your panties, an ache of anticipation settling in your core.
“Fuck, sweetheart– wish it was you getting on your knees for me later.” He whispered his filthy words in your ear with another buck of his hips. “Wanna feel your tight little throat around my cock as you choke on it.”
His confession made a nervousness intertwine itself with your blinding arousal. You turned around in his arms, your face nuzzled into the dip where his neck met his collarbone, “I-I’ve never done that before.” Your confession was barely a whisper, the words muffled into his skin.
His grip tightened around you, and you felt the way his body moved under your cheek, a comforting hand landed carefully at the back of your neck. His jaw and cheek bumped against the top of your head as he dipped down to your face and his breath changed like he was about to say something, but then was interrupted by a hollow knock on the trailer door.
“We’re ready for you on set in fifteen minutes, Mr. Miller,” a voice called.
With the knock the spell was broken. You untangled yourself from his embrace, a shy smile ghosting over your lips as you stepped away.
“You should eat.”
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Again, you’d agreed to watch him film. Joel had convinced you on his way out the trailer door, his hand resting at the small of your back as he led you towards the set. It was a small shoot – only Joel and Cheryl, the cameraman, the sound guy, a couple people from VCA, Ronald, and you. In the time you’d worked for Joel, you couldn’t remember a set feeling this intimate (not that you usually stayed to watch– not unless he explicitly asked).
The only goal for the scene was to find out if Joel and Cheryl worked well together on camera – hence no specific storyline or roles they were supposed to act out. Joel was getting his dick sucked, but other than that they were free to take the scene whichever way they wanted.
The room buzzed with quiet conversation as the cameraman got the camera and film ready. Joel was already seated on the couch where the scene would take place. His legs were spread wide, his hard bulge on display as he leisurely smoked a cigarette. Cheryl had taken up the seat beside him, leaning her elbow on the back and resting her head in her hands. They were talking, but you couldn’t hear from where you stood in the corner. Every now and then Joel’s eyes would search for yours, meeting them for a moment as a small smile spread across his lips, before they would flick back to Cheryl, joining their conversation again.
A few minutes later, the cameraman gave the okay to start shooting, making the rest of the set settle down. Joel still smoked his cigarette, so you took it upon yourself to be a good assistant and walk over to him with an ashtray.
A smile spread across Joel’s face when he saw you approach. His arm came up to rest over the back of the couch, his body opening to you with curiosity. You gave him a small smile in return, presenting the ashtray to him with a teasing raise of your eyebrow.
“Just ‘nother drag, sweetheart,” he teased, placing his cigarette back between his lips.
“Nuh-uh,” you chuckled, stealing his cigarette from his mouth with two pinched fingers.
The rest of the smoke in his lungs came out in small chuckles, his hands gathering in his lap as he leaned slightly towards you, moony eyes watching you. He was about to say something before,
“Quiet on set,” the cameraman interrupted with a shout.
You wanted to do something. Cup his cheek, kiss him, anything to just touch him, but you couldn’t. You needed to keep it professional. Instead, you gave him another small smile before you walked back to your previous spot in the corner.
“And… action!”
With the shout of the cameraman, the film was rolling, and the shoot had started.
Leaning against the wall again, you crossed your arms over your chest as you watched Cheryl sink to her knees between Joel’s spread legs. On her lips she wore an innocent pout while her hands caressed his thighs.
“Wanna put my mouth on it,” she said in a sweet voice.
“Yeah, baby? What do you want in your pretty little mouth?” Joel’s voice was deep and coaxing, his hand cupping Cheryl’s chin where his thumb ghosted over her skin.
Cheryl tilted her face down slightly, eyes big and wide as she looked up at him through her lashes.
“Your cock, sir,” she pouted.
You still didn’t know much of the plot to the porno they were shooting, but it was clear that they were going in a specific direction. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to slip into a more dominant character in the pornos he played in, but this new element of innocence from his scene partner wasn’t something he often did.
“You want me to teach you how to suck cock like a proper whore, sweet girl?”
Sweet girl.
You watched how Cheryl’s head nodded in his palm, teeth catching on her bottom lip, and a wicked smile tugged at the corners of Joel’s mouth. It made you shift your weight, arms tightening around your body.
“Alright…” Joel’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip, “Take my cock out,” he ordered, pulling his hand away.
Cheryl obediently did as he said, her hands messing with the buttons on his jeans. Joel wasn’t wearing anything underneath – it was easier that way, he’d told you earlier in his trailer. Cheryl gasped as Joel’s hard cock sprung free. Her eyes wide as she watched how his cock slapped against his lower stomach.
“’s big isn’t it, sweet girl?”
Again.
Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, pulling at the loose skin with a burning ache.
“So big, sir,” Cheryl agreed, nodding her head.
“Too big for your little mouth, sweetheart?” Joel teased, taking himself in his hand, pulling gentle strokes up and down.
Cheryl shook her head again, “No, sir! I can take it!”
Joel huffed out a laugh at that, his grin growing wider. “Yes, you can, slut.”
His degrading words pulled a moan from Cheryl, and not a second later her mouth was on him. Joel laughed again, another huffing chuckle leaving him as his heavy hand came to rest at the top of her head, guiding her down on him.
“That’s it, slut, suck that big cock– take it all the way down that whore throat,” he encouraged, head tipping back in pleasure. The wet sounds echoing through the room were obscene, pornographic. Sticky strings of spit clung to Cheryl’s chin and dripped down to her breasts where she’d tugged at the V of her neckline to expose them.
“Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that,” Joel moaned, eyes squeezed shut with a look of pleasure coating his features like he’d ascended to heaven.
My sweet girl.
The room spun, and you pressed your back harder against the wall, like it would fall down over you if you didn’t press up against it. Or maybe it was you who would cave in.
That pet name. That fucking pet name.
You needed to step out if you wanted to breathe, your throat tightening up as your thoughts drifted; to this morning in your bed and then again in the shower, to the two of you in that motel bed, to Joel’s hand on your knee as he’d knelt in front of you by the pool in Pismo Beach. Burning tears pressed behind your eyelids. You couldn’t watch any more, couldn’t hear any more, you couldn’t.
As quietly as you could you stepped out of the set. Your eyes pinched together in a squint as the hot LA afternoon sun blazed down on you. The air hot and stuffy, but not as suffocating as you felt inside.
Why did you feel this way? Jealous of another woman?
Joel wasn’t your boyfriend… at least not in so many words, but after Pismo Beach and his confession, he felt like yours. Someone you can’t help but fall in love with. That’s what he’d told you.
You couldn’t keep your thoughts from spiraling. Fall in love with? How could he be in love with you? You’d only had sex twice, never been on a proper date. You didn’t know who he was outside work. His touch and his kisses felt good, but how could you know if it was more than that – more than just something physical. He’d never called you his girlfriend. Why did you have any right to be upset right now?
This was his job. You knew that before you got involved with him. It wasn’t a problem for you, you’d told him so in the job interview. You’d spoken the truth at the time, but now you weren’t so sure.
Numbed by your realization, you stepped back inside. The scene you were met with only affirmed your thoughts.
You couldn’t give him what he wanted.
They’d moved positions. Cheryl’s head hung off the armrest, perfect boobs bouncing beneath Joel as he fucked her throat. It was lewd, and dirty and plain vulgar. With every thrust of his hips Joel earned himself a quiet gag. Under him, her body was completely at his mercy. He pulled back every once in a while, to let her breath, before plunging his hard cock back down her throat. Ropes of bubbling spit escaped her mouth and ran down her face.
Joel was completely in control, using her throat purely for his own pleasure. Groans and moans spilled from his lips in between filthy praises and ‘good girl’’s. Cheryl’s body squirmed under him, her hand rubbing quickly at her clit under her dress, edging herself towards her orgasm.
This is what Joel wanted. Someone like Cheryl– someone who was confident and skilled, someone who knew what she was doing.
You watched Joel’s thrusts turn sloppy, and that now familiar pinch in his brow let you know he was about to bust his load. With a quick motion he jerked his cock back, taking his throbbing and sensitive cock in hand, fisting himself quickly. Cheryl gasped for air, before she withered with her orgasm.
Joel groaned louder than you’d ever heard him before, his eyes flicking up from Cheryl’s squirming body to find yours. A smile spread across his face then, and then he was spilling over his knuckles and painting Cheryl’s face with his release.
“Shit,” Joel panted, coming down. His hand squeezed the last few drops of his cum out of his cock and onto Cheryl’s tongue.
“Aaaand– cut,” the camera man yelled.
Joel dropped the act immediately, stepping away from a ruined Cheryl as his cock went soft in his hand.
“Shit,” Cheryl groaned, wiping some of the mix of spit and Joel’s cum from her face.
“You okay?” Joel asked, tender hands helping her sit upright.
Cheryl giggled sweetly, big smile blossoming over her features, “Okay? More than okay, Joel– fucking amazing.”
As the gentle lover you knew him to be, Joel helped Cheryl clean up her face after getting handed a towel, but not before assessing the picture he’d painted– which wasn’t much, not compared the cumshots he usually gave out.  
“If I knew I’d be filmin’ today I wouldn’t have jerked of this morning,” he laughed, wiping her face.
It wasn’t funny.
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part three -> here
i hope this was okay? and that you liked this! <3 as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3
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lxkeee · 2 months
Text
MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE PART THREE
pairing: Lucifer x fem! reader
fandom: hazbin hotel
genre: fanfiction
notes: Imaoo sorry it took awhileee I'm actually a very busy college student while simultaneously having so much brainrot for this man so... Be patient omfg, I just posted part one a two days ago also, don't mind the warnings too much as it doesn't specifically for this specific chapter but it can be future parts of the story. So yes, hand holding before marriage will happen between Lucifer and [y/n]
warnings: none except hand holding before marriage Imao.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR
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Lucifer paced back and forth in his room, worried. Walking around the large master's bedroom, passing by many piles of rubber ducks he made.
“She should be back by now.” Lucifer murmured to himself, sighing.
His eyes landed on to the framed pictures decorating his walls.
He prayed that Charlie met [y/n] up there, the one angel he trusts. Though, it has been eons since he's last seen her, he wonders if [y/n] changed after all these years, especially after he had fallen from grace.
Did she hate him? Did she miss him like how he misses her?
As he sat on his arm chair, a gold sealed white envelope manifested on top of the coffee table in front of him, pink glittery smoke surrounding the letter.
“...What the...?” Lucifer murmurs, hesitant and cautious, eyeing the envelope. What if it's a trap?
Suddenly his phone buzzed, he immediately checked it to see it was a text message from Charlie.
“I just left a letter on your table, it's from someone you know. I'll tell you everything that happened in heaven but I'll rest for a bit. Love you dad!”
Lucifer smiled though a tad bit worried, he can tell that the meeting didn't go as his daughter hoped. He can only give her time.
Lucifer then now turned his eyes back on the neat envelope, sparkling a little. He turned the letter around to see it was specifically addressed to him, written in an oh so familiar handwriting to him. Unknowingly, just by seeing the handwriting was enough for his eyes to tear up a little.
“[y/n]....” He murmurs, finally opening the letter. Using his sharp nails to scrape off the wax without breaking it or tearing the envelope. Taking out the carefully folded light yellow paper, unfolding it to reveal her letter to him.
My Dearest Lucifer
His cheeks flushed slightly, with a comma after dearest. My Dearest, Lucifer
“Oh [y/n], this will keep me up at night.” Lucifer murmurs with a small dorky smile on his face, his sharp teeth shining against the light, eyes watering.
My Dearest, Lucifer
       It has been awhile hasn't it? A couple of eons since we've last seen each other. You have no idea how excited I was when I heard your daughter would be coming here in hell. I made sure to write a letter in advance a day before her arrival. I have a lot to tell you, first and foremost, I truly missed you. You sly man, you really got married without inviting me. How's your time down there? I hope hell is treating you right, I really hope I'll get a chance to see you again. I hope we'll get a proper chance to talk, I want to personally hear you how you've been doing. I hope you'll get the chance to see the good of humans after giving them free will, I promise to find a way for you to leave and visit earth. I am running out of paper to right on but I promise to help your daughter up here and lastly, I want you to remember that I adore you always.
“Sincerely yours, [y/n] [l/n]” Lucifer softly reads out, voice shaking. It felt like he could hear her as he read the letter. The same kind [y/n] who always believed in him. His heart swells knowing that she's still trying to help in any way she can despite their distance. She never stopped believing in him despite him leaving without notice (not that he had the chance to).
“If only you knew how much I adore you too, [y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs softly, his finger tracing the outline of the paper ever so gently.
“I want to see you again, I have so many things to say to you... So many unsaid words I wanted to say... I wanted to tell you that I love...” Lucifer's eyes widened ever so slightly, cheeks turning red. He knows he loves her and he still does but he also loves his ex-wife, Lilith. Does he? Or is he just holding into something that no longer exists as it was something he had for a long time and now it's gone?
Everything in his life changed, Lilith's love for him changed, he changed.
Despite all of this, [y/n] remained unchanging inside his heart. Sure, Lilith held the majority of his heart but now? He is not sure but he is 100% sure [y/n] never left, he still has affections for the angel.
How can he not? She's the only one who believed in him when he was up in heaven? She comforted him whenever the elders said hurtful things to his ideas.
But now...
Her letter gave him a sense of hope that his decision of giving mankind free will might not be useless after all.
Lucifer closes the letter, gently folding it back on how it was folded before he opened it. Bringing the piece of paper to his nose, smelling the faint scent of her perfume. It brought back memories of his time with her in heaven.
“I'll ask Charlie about what happened up there later but for now, I'll take a moment to process this.” He says with a small sigh. Slipping the folded paper back into the envelope.
Lucifer sighs as he gently places the envelope back on his table, walking to his balcony. Eyes staring up into the smoky red skies of hell, devoid of any moon and stars.
He used to stargaze with her when he was still in heaven.
[y/n] was his moon, who shines during his darkest days.
Waving his finger in the air, specks of golden dust flickers out of his fingers. Forming a crescent moon.
Lucifer leans into the railings, eyes staring at the faux moon he created.
“Moon, tell me if I could...” Lucifer softly sang, eyes tired but hopeful. “Send up my heart to you...?” he asked softly, unfortunately no one answered.
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A bit of a timeskip....
It has been a few months since Charlie's visit here in heaven and the next extermination is getting closer by the day. Emily and I are still trying to look for ways to help Charlie.
Sera adores Emily, I am sure that she wouldn't get punished. I on the other hand, Sera has been keeping a close eye on me. Criticizing me. Lute being tasked to watch my every move.
“Sera, this is utterly ridiculous! We should give those poor souls a second chance.” [Y/n] says, clenching her fists as she looked at Sera who was sitting on her chair inside the Seraphim office.
“That is enough, [y/n]. You keep this up and you'll end up fallen like Lucifer.” Sera said sternly, eyes glaring at the [y/n]. “You barely managed to escape that fate before, you could've fallen the same time as Lucifer but thankfully your actions weren't as severe as his.”
[y/n] slammed her fists against the table, angel eyes appearing on her wings with fury, “We aren't God, Sera! Who gave you the right to judge those sinners and claim they don't deserve a second chance?” she exclaimed.
Sera stood up from her seat, anger evident on her face. “Don't you dare raise your voice at me! You're on thin ice, [y/n]!”
[y/n] rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over chest, “What are you going to do? Huh? Kick me out of heaven?”
Sera's glare sharpened, patience running thin. “Keep that attitude up and you just might.”
“Lucifer doesn't deserve this treatment! You cursed him to not see the good of people! You cursed the people who have a chance to redeem themselves by taking their life! How does it feel that so much blood is spilled because of your decision?!” [y/n] asked angrily, tears running down her cheeks.
“We have our own souls to protect! This decision wasn't easy to make!” Sera remarked angrily, her wings spread out intimidatingly.
“Protect them from what?! As far as I know, it's only us angels who are a threat to them? If they do something that doesn't fit your standards or the elder's standards they are bound to fall from grace!” [y/n] says mockingly, rage and annoyance evident on both women's eyes.
“That's it, you've crossed the line!”
“You don't want to admit that I am right, angels are such selfish, greedy, and filthy creatures. I cannot believe I am associated with beings whose hands are stained with blood.”
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You know, falling doesn't seem so bad.
Strong and harsh winds are blowing against my back, thankfully I still have my wings. It is currently useless, unfortunately. I don't have the energy to flap them to save myself from the approaching pain.
After that argument with Sera, the higher seraphim thought I was already way out of line and disrespectful. I was placed on trial, handcuffed with the type of handcuffs that prevents me from using my angelic powers while it simultaneously sucked the energy out of me.
I was deemed guilty, shameful, and ungrateful and a threat to the order of heaven.
Tossed out of the pearly gates of heaven by none other than Adam, that asshole really grabbed me by the hair.
[y/n] sighs softly, vision blurring. Trying to focus it as she falls from grace. The skies looked so beautiful.
Lucifer would've loved these skies, we've stargazed during the night before. When he was still in heaven with me.
Lucifer, I can see Ursa Major tonight. Someday, I'll bring you back here on the surface and stargaze like we've always do. No matter how many stars are in the sky, you always take my attention. You're like my star, you shine so bright and so pure.
I'll join you in the pits of hell, I hope you didn't forget about me.
I should be happy that I'm finally leaving that god awful place.
Why am I so scared of falling to my demise?
For a moment, I can see a glimpse of how Lucifer felt when he fell from grace.
Terrifying.
[Y/n] closes her eyes as she finally goes past the Earth's crust. Ichor flowing out of her hands from the handcuffs she had to wear.
“I am not allowed to die, I still need to see him.” [y/n] murmurs before eventually crashing into the fiery grounds of hell, she fortunately crashed somewhere where there weren't any people, a wide space of nothing but dead trees, a hotel can be seen in the distance.
Pain, pain shot everywhere her body. She let out a sharp scream of pure pain. Blood spilled everywhere before she eventually passed out.
It didn't matter, the pain didn't matter. She's here now. She'll look for him or Charlie.
She doesn't know Charlie would find her first.
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END NOTES: YUHHH THEY'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN IN THE NEXT UPDATEE
TAGLIST:
@n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya (I can't tag you </3) @many-fandoms-lover
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https-yeonjun · 2 months
Text
house warming (k.mg)
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wc. 756
genre. smut
tags. minors dni! mingyu x fem!reader, established relationship, cockwarming
a/n. i have been writing this for like 9 months and i really wanted to make it longer but i just want to post it because mentally i can't complete it, maybe there'll be a part two (most likely not) but yay!!! cockwarming mingyu yasss
more of my work
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you really should have planned better.
it was like everything that could possibly go wrong did. you imagined that by now you would be wrapped up in a large, cozy comforter nestled on your cloud soft king size bed in your already furnished new house. but the movers got the wrong date down, so now your house was bare save for the mess of cardboard boxes in every room and the lumpy air mattress in the middle of your lonely bedroom.
the room lacked the warmth you had hoped for, and the chilly air seeped through the gaps. and to make matters worse, you found out that your heater was broken, in the dead of winter. 
it was too much to manage in one night, so you decided to unpack your closet and go to sleep. everything else was tomorrow’s problem.
but in the middle of the night, you stir awake, a kink in your neck reminding you of your less than ideal sleeping arrangement. you turn to the man lying beside you, who is restlessly moving around.
“what are you doing?” you groggily snap at him.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “”i’m just really cold.”
“there are extra blankets in the closet, i think.” you suggest, rolling over, trying to lull yourself back to sleep.
“i wanna feel you, baby.” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you roll away from him, more focused on checking your phone, causing him to emit a low groan.
“no, baby, come back here.” he pleads, drawing out the last syllable of his sentence.
“mingyu, it’s two in the morning.” you retort, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating the room’s bare bones.
“i’m so cold,” he whines again, pulling the comforter over the two of you.
“baby, check in the closet for extra blankets.”
“but you’re so warm here,” he pulls you closer to him. he snuggles into your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“god, we need to call a repair person to fix that stupid heater,” you groan when you think about everything that you need to do.
“we can do that in the morning,” he says, as he traces kisses along your jawline to your neck. “but in the meantime, we can keep each other warm.”
“mingyu, babe, i’m so tired, and the movers are coming at ten and we still have so much to do.”
“baby, baby,” he shushes you, wrapping you in his arms. “just relax.”
“i’m trying to go back to sleep.”
“please,” mingyu begs. “baby, it’s cold outside. i just want to feel your warmth.” you feel a shiver down your spine when he begins to nibble on your ear. “you don’t have to do anything, i just wanna be inside you.”
he slides your sweatpants down. slowly guiding his cock to your entrance, he rubs it up and down your slit. his tip pokes around your entrance and you push your hips back, encouraging him to enter into your tight cunt. his hands grip your hips tightly, his face screwing up in pleasure as he slowly pushes. you suck your breath as he bottoms out. “sorry,” he mumbles.
“it’s fine,” you sigh, melting into his embrace. mingyu, still mumbling sorries, moves around until he finally feels comfortable. when he does, his head returns to the nook of your neck. the two of you lie with your figures entwined, your limbs interwoven in an affectionate dance. your head rests against his chest, his heartbeat beneath you serving as a lullaby. his cold hands slide underneath your sweatshirt, and you clench around him.
“fuck,” he groans lowly and now it’s your turn to profusely apologize. “it’s fine, honey, just give me a moment to calm down.” you give him a moment before you place your hands on top of his arms where they rested at your waist. this was supposed to be an innocent moment – as innocent as it could be. it was supposed to be an opportunity to feel close to each other, but, as you’d expect with your boyfriend, innocence seemed to take a backseat to a different kind of intimacy.
slowly he rocks his hips against yours, prompting a soft moan to escape from your lips. “gyu,” you warn him slightly, but he ignores you, his hands slipping down to your hips to pull you closer to him. “what happened to “i just want to feel you”?”
“m sorry,” he moans out, “you know i can’t help it. you just feel so good.”
taglist: @dearlyjun
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allisonlol · 9 months
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chuuya dazai and fyodor when reader tries to remove the hickies they gave reader the next day OHKYIGOAHSS
a/n: hiii everyone i have crawled out of my void to offer you this post !! ty to the anon who came up with this wonderful idea. i've missed posting omg and we somehow are so close to 3k despite my inactivity??? slay. shall open reqs again once we get there mwehehe
warnings: slight nsfw
(Chuuya, Dazai, Fyodor) When You Try to Remove Hickeys
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Chuuya
he's gonna be the most chill about this tbh
it's your body and if you don't want ppl seeing that on you then that's ur choice!!
however
hiding them is one thing, but that doesn't mean he wants to see you removing them
so yknow that hack where you take a whisk and like,,,twist it over the mark to get rid of it?
yeah so you tried that...and it was actually working until chuuya barged into the room and demanded to know what you were doing
bro is not happy to see the hickies he'd proudly left on you last night being somehow removed by a WHISK
grabs that mf thing and throws it across the room
chuuya's not angry at you, more so frustrated and insecure?? cuz like why would u wanna get rid of them
he's lowkey gonna start pouting tbh. won't say anything else but will glare & give u silent treatment
won't stop until you admit the only reason u removed them is because it was too visible with your work uniform and u didn't want everyone staring smh
insist that he should give you more in areas that people won't see and there's no guarantee y'all won't be late to work <3
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Dazai
oh lord
so dazai really loves to mark you up
and last night was no different. your neck was black and blue with hickies
deadass to the point where you nearly had a heart attack when you saw it in the morning
"how am i gonna go to work like this?!" you practically sob to him while he LAUGHS
his only advice is "then don't go" as if both of y'all don't need to have ur asses at the agency in 20 minutes
you check ur phone for the time and when u see this you panic and sprint to your shared bedroom
you try everything you can think of to cover them
first you hastily layer concealer on your neck, to no avail as the marks were too dark
then digging through ur closet for clothes with a high enough neckline to hide it, to which you found none
whole time dazai is leaning against the doorframe, watching ur meltdown with an amused expression
he approaches and helps u up from the floor where u had collapsed with all the clothes strewn around you ☹️
"allow me to pick out something for you to wear" ….oh god
u guys are beyond late at this point so you sigh and accept defeat, to which dazai picks a shirt that of course displays all the marks on your neck
you got lots of stares that day to say the least
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Fyodor
surprisingly fyodor doesn't usually leave too many marks on you to begin with
he's got that old fashioned take where it's like "other people don't need to see that and be in our business" if u know what i mean
however, he is also a very possessive man
^so when he gets worked up and does leave hickeys on you, the last thing he wants to see is you trying to hide or remove them
which is exactly what he walked in on u doing today
you were trying the good old "rub an ice cube on it" hack before u had to work
now this mf thinks you have some hidden agenda as to why you wanted them gone
"are you seeing someone else" 💀💀
PLS u didn't realize he had been watching from the doorway and this scares u so bad u drop the ice cube down ur shirt
u start frantically trying to get it out of ur shirt while yelling at him like "i have to work, wtf are u talking about???"
u immediately stop tho when he storms up to u and grabs your face to make you look at him
his face is so cold and unreadable omg it's scary
his eyes shift to the marks on your neck as he traces over them with his fingers
"leave these alone" he says lowly, then adjusts the collar of your shirt so they are partially covered
neither of u will say anything more about it after that, but fyodor sends sigma to secretly follow u to work to make sure that's where ur really going 😓
taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @irethepotato @serenareiss @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @mianqo
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httpsserene · 5 months
Text
𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥
𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝟱: 𝗹𝗲𝘄𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘁𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 | 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝘅 & 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴
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📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. vaginal sex. lingerie. marriage. unsafe sex. no pull-out. tender sex. slow and sensual. cockwarming. intimacy. no beta we get disqualified like lewis and charles. not dirty? husband/wife kink (if that’s a thing). more soft. sickeningly sweet (ig). 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: lewis hamilton x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: icu • coco jones
𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: needed something to soothe the soul after the austin gp disqualifications. this is at the same time the least kinky thing i’ve written so far and the most kinky thing ever. because love feels filthier to write, idk if that makes sense. it’s on the shorter side because i ditched the preamble in order to finish this in time lol, but i dedicate this to my twin @saintwrld :) (it reminds me of her renaissance series :p y'all should check it out @saintslewis) and i hope everyone enjoys it !!!!
do you want to be added to my general taglist? or my f1 kinktober taglist? send me an ask!
cross-posted on my ao3, htppsss
to see what kinktober uploads have already been completed or to see what's coming next check my f1 kinktober masterlist ! for all of my works see my general masterlist!
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lewis sighs tiredly as he lies down in bed next to you. the mercedes driver turns on his side facing you, and laughs quietly. your bonnet, of course, has grown a pair of legs and climbed its way off your head and is sleeping on the pillow next to you—your braids fanned out on the pillow underneath you unprotected. lewis carefully wrangles the bonnet back on you and smiles adoringly when he notices that you're wearing the matching bonnet he got you almost nine years ago. and to feel how the matching bonnets makes his heart stutter after spending a decade of his life with you, two of those years being married; he knows being married to you is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 
he tugs you, his wife, closer; cooing out loud when he notices that you’re clad in one of his tommy hilfiger hoodies, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapping around you tightly, and legs intertwining comfortably. you hum against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his bare skin, and a faint smile lingers on your lips, and unconscious reaction to having your husband home again. lewis throws his head back groaning, he can’t wake you up now. you had spammed his phone with texts before his flight, promising that he’d get a “surprise” when he got home, for doing so well this weekend—and he doesn’t have the heart to wake you up just so he can fuck you. well, he thinks, he can just get a couple hours of sleep in and then he’ll wake you up and enjoy whatever gift you’ve decided to bless him with and he drifts into sleep.
when lewis wakes up again, the first thing he notices is that he’s slept for way more than a couple hours. the noon sun has brightened the room immensely, and he’s shocked that he managed to stay asleep for so long with how the sun is shining directly on his face. he shifts onto his back, groaning at the soreness left from racing, and glances down at you to see if your still sleeping, and chokes on his breath. his hoodie is rucked up your waist from sleep, exposing your black lace panties, and when he shifts to get a better view of your ass, his body jostles yours and reveals the silver shift of glitter in the fabric. 
“fuck,” lewis murmurs, he’s always been weak for you dressing in his team colors. one of his tattooed hands takes a generous squeeze of your ass, and he wonders if you're wearing the matching top. his grip on your ass may have become a smidge too tight at that thought, because you softly gasp awake. lewis watches as you squirm against him softly, face twisted in confusion, before you make eye contact with him, and you relax. 
you smile sweetly, your left hand rising to rest on his cheek, “welcome home, champ.” lewis laughs at your half-asleep tone, nuzzling his face into your hand, before turning to press a kiss at the ring he put on your finger. “it was only a second-place finisher, love. no need to call me ‘champ.’”
frowning at him, you scoff, “you are still a seven-time world champion, are you not?” lewis concedes to your point; he’s not interested in being scolded by you today—he’s more concerned with unwrapping the present you got him. he hums and noses at your chin before he captures your lips in a dizzying kiss. your lips are languid against each other, there’s no rush in rediscovering the crevices within your mouths. lewis ignores how your teeth tug at his bottom lip, urging him to speed up—he only deepens the kiss, not quickening his pace, coercing you to melt under his passion. 
he pulls away, enjoying how your gaze has transformed from sleep-hazy to lust-hazy. “mmm, is my ‘surprise’ the panties and matching bra you have under my hoodie?” lewis asks you. you nod your head gently, scooting back and pulling the hoodie up to reveal the matching silver-glitter covered black bralette. he moans at the sight of you; perky breasts and nipples hard underneath the lace, your eyes half-lidded in arousal. his hands reach out to grasp at your chest, thumbs dragging over your nipples, causing a shaky moan to fall from your lips at the friction. you reach to pull the hoodie off but lewis grunts in dissent, “nah, keep it on for me. just make sure it stays up, love.”
“ohmygod,” you giggle quietly, “you can just say you’re obsessed with fucking me in your clothes.”
lewis rolls his eyes at you, “okay: i’m obsessed with fucking you in my clothes. i love the way you smell like me after, i love the way your smell lingers when i wear them after you, i love the way you look in my clothes; if i could choose, i wish you’d only ever wear my clothes and have pretty lingerie underneath them all the time.”
you stare at him wide-eyed, not expecting him to flip your teasing words in that manner, maybe that’s why your panties suddenly feel a little wet. you bite your lip, trying to think of a way to regain the upper hand, and lewis clocks your eyes brightening.
“i fingered myself open for you last night. i’m sure you could still slip in, if you’re up for it.”
lewis chuckles, half-crazed, and murmurs, “if i’m up for it? promise me, if i ever say no to having sex with you that you’ll take me to see a doctor?”
you hum, hand shifting to rub at the nape of his neck, “i promise, baby. can you fuck me now—i fell asleep waiting for you last night.”
lewis quickly gets to work positioning your body. he spins you around to your side, your back pressed against his chest, and spreads your thighs open with his knee. you moan at his easy manhandling, and press your ass back to grind against the tent in his boxers. he encourages the movement of your hips, even directing the grind for a few beats before he halts your motions. his hand slips in between the two of you, and tugs his dick out. he pulls your panties to the side and slowly slips into you. your mouth drops open in a silent moan, overwhelmed by the stretch from his dick spreading you open. lewis sighs deeply as he bottoms out within you, and kisses you on the shoulder. he stays still, allowing you the time you need to adjust. you shift your hips gently, testing the feel, and hum in assent.
lewis moves his hand to find yours, and locks them over your navel, using them to pull you as close to his body as he can. he whispers softly, “can we take it nice and slow today? i want to make love to you today.”you hum, and it shifts to a whine as his hips gently rock into yours, and whimper out, “it’s your present—can use it however you want.” 
lewis keeps the motion of hips slow and controlled, pulling out halfway before sinking in as deep as he can reach. it’s stunning how you can feel every bit of love lewis puts into his thrusts, seeping into you. he continues to pepper kisses on your neck and shoulder, and slips his other arm underneath you, and moving your body slowly so you twist back further, exposing your chest to him again. the hoodie remains bunched under your armpits, and lewis tugs the bralette down underneath your chest, causing your breasts to spill out lewdly over the top. his hand rests over your chest, not groping in any manner, just holding you close, feeling how your heartbeat speeds up from his movements.
in the decade you’ve been in a relationship with lewis, you’ve had some life-changing sex. but, for some reason, the slow and sensual sex has to be your favorite. it feels restorative, like he’s breathing life back into your body, with every deep thrust he’s showing you how much he loves you. and he’s not afraid to say it either.
“i love you, so much—you’re so good to me—my wonderful wife—all for me—all mine—i’ll make you feel so good, love—forever, yeah—you and me, like this—i win everything for you—“
you rock back against him, always weak when he can help but run his mouth, and start rambling back to him, mouth loose from the pleasure he continues to give to you, “my oh! my husband—only you for me, yeah?” he moans into your neck, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to you calling him your husband. 
there’s no telling how long the two of you are wrapped together, neither you are in any rush to reach a climax—you both crave the intimacy sex like this provides, especially after he’s been away. your orgasms crest over your bodies slowly but they’re more satisfying than any other release you could get from rough sex. lewis continues to grind his dick in you as deep as he can, not making any motion to pull out, and ignores the building sensitivity he’s feeling. 
lewis smiles at the blissed out look on your face, and watches how you struggle to open your eyes; he’s been fucking you back to sleep this whole time—that would explain why your rambles disappeared as you got closer to your peak. he tugs the hoodie back down over your chest, and one-handedly drags the duvet to cover your bodies, not wanting you to get cold. “hey, love,” he calls softly, “do you want me to pull out and clean you up?” you shake your head, and turn back onto your side fully, pressing you back to his chest again, and you start to doze off. lewis rubs at your waist gently, soothing you further into sleep—he’s never going to say no to having you keep his dick warm. 
lewis carefully reaches towards the nightstand and grabs his phone, and quickly sets an hour alarm. he won’t let himself be fooled by the call of sleep and let the whole day fly by, like he did last night—he’d rather not be awoken by his angry wife screaming about uti’s and whatnot. he’ll just bathe in the afterglow while you sleep soundly; he just wants to look after you a little longer.
taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr@nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhaj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez @reblog-princess-blog @lovingaphroditesworld @katekipshidze @darleneslane
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© httpsserene 2023
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spdrwdw · 5 months
Text
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Art by marmar0u on instagram
Pairing: GhostFace!Miguel x f!reader
warnings: 18+, Smut, Roleplay, oral (m/f receiving) , unprotected intercourse, hair-pulling, choking, no use of y/n, slight hair pulling
Summary: It's Halloween and you in for a trick and treat of your life.
A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested GhostFace! Miguel! Sorry if this on kinda sucks. I'm not good with writing scary, suspenseful stuff lol. I did use some of the dialogue from the first movie and tweaked it a bit. If you want to be tagged in my future fics, just let me know! Or, you can also turn on notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. I hope everyone enjoys and have a safe and fun Halloween!
Word Count: 2.8k ( I promise I'll make my fics longer one day)
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
It was Halloween night, and you were home alone. The tv was on, playing some random scary movie. You had music also playing in the background. 
Trick-or-treaters would be constantly ringing the doorbell. At first, you thought about simply leaving the bowl of candy by the doorstep, but you loved seeing all the costumes the kids and teenagers were wearing. 
You were wearing a costume, yourself. A simple angel. Nothing too flashy since you were simply handing out candy. Just a halo and wings in a white t-shirt and white shorts. You wore your more “suggestive” costume at last weekend’s Halloween party a friend threw. 
While making your way to the kitchen to make yourself some popcorn, you heard your cell phone ring. It was a number you’ve never seen before, but it had your area code, so you decided to pick it up. 
“Hello?”
“Hello?” A voice on the other end responded. 
“Yes?” You replied back. 
“Who is this?”
“Who are you trying to reach?” You asked, slightly confused.
“What number is this?”
“What number are you trying to reach?” Honestly. Dude dialed the number, right?
“I don’t know.” Ugh.
“Well, I think you have the wrong number. It happens. Take it easy,” and with that, you ended the call and began to head back to the microwave to check on the popcorn before your phone rang again. 
Reaching back over for it, you checked the caller ID. It was the same number. Should you pick it up? At first, you thought about letting it ring but, eh, whatever. You answered it. 
“Hello?”
“I’m sorry. I guess I dialed the wrong number,” the same guy on the other end responded.
“So why did you dial it again?” You asked. 
“To apologize,” he replied.
“Well, you’re forgiven. Bye, now.”
“Wait! wait. Don’t hang up. I want to talk to you for a sec.” 
“Why?” Okay, this was getting a little weird. You really should just hang up. 
“Just want to know a little more about you. How about telling me your name?” He asked. “I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” you rolled your eyes, shaking your head. 
“Well, do you have a boyfriend?” He changed the subject. 
“Why? Do you want to ask me out on a date?”
“Maybe? Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No,” as if you were going to give this guy a truthful response. Plus, you did have a boyfriend, so you wouldn’t have accepted either way. 
“You never told me your name.” There he goes again, asking for your name. 
You were now walking around your house, organizing some things as you entertained this weirdo.
“Why do you want to know my name?” No really. Why?
“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.”
What?
You suddenly stopped, feeling your heart drop.
“What did you say?” Your voice now grew quiet. 
“I want to know who I’m talking to.”
“That’s not what you said,” you pointed out as you began making your way around the house, turning more lights on, as well as the lights from your back porch. You really should hang up and call the police if this guy was stalking you from somewhere. 
“Then what did you think I said?” He asked. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. 
“What do you want?” You knew if you hung up now, he would just call back. So, you made another round around the house to make sure everything was closed and locked. 
“I just want to know your name.” 
“You don’t need to know my name. Now what do you want from me?” You questioned.
“I just wanted to talk. Maybe go out together on a date.”
Now you were peaking through the curtains, making sure no one was actually outside. Which was futile since there were still a lot of people out trick-or-treating. Maybe he was just messing around. But, you wanted to be sure.
“Can you see me?” He suddenly asked. 
How did he know you were looking for him? “Listen, I am two seconds away from calling the police.” Your voice was now shaky, as well as your body. 
“They’d never make it in time. It’s Halloween. Probably think you’re prank calling them or something.”
“What do you want?” You asked, your voice cracking and tears welling over your eyes. 
The line was quiet for a second, then you heard him chuckle. 
“To see what your insides feel like.”
The line disconnected, and there was a sudden flicker of the lights. He was here. He had to be. 
You were checking every single closet and door, your heart beating fast, panicking. Where was he? He had to be somewhere in your house. 
Your cell phone rang again. You didn’t bother to check the number. You knew it was him.
“What do you want?” You asked, your voice shaking as you struggled to hold the phone in your hand. 
No response. 
“This isn’t funny! I’m going to call the police!” You threatened as you pressed your back against the wall, trying to keep your eyes everywhere. 
You heard the man chuckling again at the other end, causing goosebumps to raise the thin hairs on your arms. 
“Aww! Don’t be like that, baby. I’m just having some fun.” You could practically hear him smirking.
“Well, I’m not!” You spat before the lights began to flicker again. 
“Stop it!”
“Alright, alright. You’re being such a party-pooper. Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll stop messing with you, if you let me fuck you.” 
“Excuse me?!” You gasped, eyes widened. 
“Come on. It’ll be fun. I’ll even keep my mask on,” he cooed. 
“No way!”
“Why not? It’s Halloween. I’m a trick-or-treater. I already did my tricks, now I’m ready for my treat.”
“I-I have a boyfriend!” You then blurted out. 
“You just told me you didn’t.”
“I know that.”
“So that ‘no’’ was a yes? I don’t like that you lied to me like that. Hmm..well, he doesn’t have to know, baby. It’ll be our little secret.”
“No,” you replied. 
“Alright. Fine. We can do this the hard way,” he responded just before the lights went completely dark. The line cut off on the other end, and you were left with silence. 
You covered your mouth and tried to calm down. You had to find something to defend yourself with. Maybe a baseball bat or something. Or you could go back to the kitchen and grab a pan or knife. 
Without removing yourself from the wall, you began to make your way to the kitchen. 
In the dark, you quickly made your way to the drawers and found a knife before proceeding to turn on the flashlight on your phone just as you heard something coming from upstairs. 
“Shit shit shit!” You breathed, gripping onto the knife with one hand and your phone with the other before you slowly began to make your way up the stairs , looking all around you.
You jumped when you heard a door slam behind you, and you slowly turned around to see a dark figure at the end of the hall. 
“Who are you?!” You called out, taking a couple steps back, still gripping the knife tightly. Your legs began to tremble a bit. 
The figure then turned around. A white ghost-like mask covered their face. You could hear a low chuckle coming from them as they began to take a step closer, holding their own, bloody knife in his hand. 
“Get away from me! I’m serious!” You threatened, but he continued to make his way closer to you, so, you dashed into your bedroom, not noticing something on the floor that caused you to trip and fall onto your bed, the knife slipped out of your hand, along with your phone, both landing on the floor with a thump.
Once you managed to push your body up, you glanced over your shoulder and saw the figure standing right behind you, causing you to scream. You tried to scramble back, but he grabbed one of your legs, lifting the knife towards you to strike. 
You quickly reached for a pillow and started hitting him with it. It worked for a second, and he stumbled back. But, it gave you enough time to get out of bed. 
However, your efforts were not sufficient,and he grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed with a thump before he crawled over you, pinning your hands behind your head and straddling your waist. 
A low chuckle could be heard coming from him before he leaned over and whispered against your ear, “You’re so cute when you’re scared.”
Your heart pounded against your chest, struggling to break free as tears pricked over your eyes. 
“Please, let me go..” you whimpered. 
“Not until I get my treat, sweetheart,” he reminded her as he sat up and began to pull down his pants underneath the black cloak. 
“Aye, mierda, this thing..”he huffed under his breath as he hiked the cloak up above his waist. 
Wait a second. That voice..it sounded familiar. Too familiar. And there was only one person you knew who would curse like that. 
“M-Miguel?”
“Yeah?” He paused, looking down at you through his mask, his persona now forgotten. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?! It was you doing this the whole time?!” You shrieked as you started smacking him, hitting him with all your might. 
“You asshole!”
Miguel simply laughed as he grabbed hold of your hands. 
“Come on, nena! I was just messing with you!” He continued to laugh. “You should’ve seen the look on your face. It was adorable.”
“G-get off of me!” You were pissed at the stunt your boyfriend pulled. 
“But I want my treat,” you just knew that he was pouting under his mask. 
“I’m not giving you anything you big jerk! Now get off and turn my lights back on!” You demanded, shoving him off of you. 
“Fine,” he muttered before fixing himself and got off the bed and headed out of your room. 
You laid in your bed for a moment, trying to relax. You never thought Miguel would do such a thing. He really had you scared shitless. 
Shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, you got up from bed, grabbing the knife you dropped on the floor and began to make your way downstairs just as the lights came back on. 
Miguel was already in the kitchen, mask removed and munching on the popcorn you had made. 
You placed the knife back where it belonged before turning to face Miguel, crossing your arms over your chest. 
Miguel looked over at you after popping some more popcorn into his mouth, giving you a cheeky grin. 
“Heeey..” he reached over to you, pulling you over by the arm. “Don’t be mad. Please. Forgive me?”
He gave you big puppy dog eyes. And for someone as big as him, it was actually adorable. But you were still mad at him. He actually had you fearing for your life. 
“No,” you respond curtly, glaring up at him. Why did he think you would just forgive him so easily?
“How did you even get in here?” You asked as he pulled you into a tight hug.
“You showed me where you keep your spare key, remember?”
“Oh, yeah..” 
“Soo..”he smirked then. “Can I get my treat now?”
“You’re insufferable. Fine! Fine,” you finally agreed with a nod. “But, I swear if you do something like that again, I’m breaking up with you."
Miguel gave you a toothy grin before pulling his mask back down before pulling out his knife from under his cloak. With closer inspection, you realize it was just a fake prop knife with red paint over it. 
“Wait, how did you change your voice?” You suddenly asked. 
Miguel pulled out a little box-like device and held it to his face before speaking to it, his voice sounding completely different. 
“Oh.”
“Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?” Miguel stated before he started chasing you around the kitchen, with you now playing along. 
After you had given the last of the candy out to trick-or-treaters and finished up the popcorn, you and Miguel were upstairs in your room, with you on your knees, sucking him off. 
He was still clad in his costume, having his cloak bunched up around his waist. 
“Oh, fuck, that’s it. Just like that,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you bobbed your head and pumped him in your hand. You couldn’t help but to slip your hand into your panties and finger yourself, letting out moans around his cock.
He began to thrust into your mouth, holding your head still with his hand. You continued to finger yourself. 
“Such a naughty little angel you are, nena. Taking my cock in so well,” he praised before letting out another groan, feeling himself close to his orgasm. However, he pulled himself out of your mouth, stunting his release. He wanted to be inside you for that. He pulled up on onto your feet before he knelt down before you, removing his mask before shooting you a playful wink and removed your white shorts and panties before half of his face disappeared between your legs. 
You let out a moan when you felt it. His tongue, running along your folds, picking up your wetness with greed. He lifted you up by the thighs, placing a hand on your back before lifting you up on the floor and blindly made his way to the closet wall, pinning you there. 
“Oh, Miguel!” You whined, tilting your head back against the wall, squeezing his head between your thighs as he slurped and nipped at your aching pussy.
Muffled moans could be heard coming from his mouth, sending vibrations through your body. You started bucking your hips against her mouth, needing more of his tongue. 
You let out another whine, needing more. You needed more of him. You needed him inside you.
“Migueeeel!” You pouted as you continued to grind your hips against him. All he needed was his mouth to send you over the edge, and he knew how to use it well. He had you seeing stars and reaching for the moon with how his tongue danced along your bundle of nerves and slipped into your soaking pussy.
However, he pulled away before you were able to reach your peak. 
“No!” You cried out, causing him to chuckle. He gently removed you from his shoulders and carried you to your bed, dropping you. 
“Don’t fret, nena. We got all night. It’s still Halloween. And I am going to enjoy my treat for as long as I can. I did tell you and wanted to feel your insides, after all,” he said as he slipped his mask back down and took off everything else, leaving himself naked. 
He proceeded to remove most of your clothes, leaving just your halo and wings on before flipping you over so you were on your stomach. 
“On your hands and knees, angelita,” he ordered, giving you ass a playful smack, causing you to let out a yelp. You did as he said and positioned yourself before him, ass in the air and face down onto the mattress. 
You could hear him stroking himself in his hand, and the sound made your mouth water. 
“I know you want me in that tight little pussy, nena. Don’t worry, I got you,” Miguel smirked before plunging himself into your warm, wet cunt, causing you to arch your back and cry out his name. 
Miguel didn’t wait to set at a brutal pace, pivoting himself against you, balls slapping against your clit. You let out a lewd moan, your eyes rolling back just as Miguel grabbed a fistful of your hair and leaned over, his phone in hand. He took a quick photo of the two of you. 
“You better not show that to anyone,” you whimpered. 
“Of course not. This is all for me. No one gets to see you like this, angelita,” Miguel cooed, and you felt him resting his masked face against your hair, as if trying to give you a kiss. 
“Now, you gonna cum for me?”
You could feel him hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, and you cried out a ‘yes’ in response, nodding your head. 
“Yes! Yes yes! I will! Please..just like that!”
“That’s my girl,” he praised, giving your ass a hard smack that had you cumming instantly. 
You gripped onto the bed sheets as Miguel continued to thrust into you past your orgasm. He loved filling you up and mixing your juices with his. And that’s just what he did. A couple more thrusts and he came inside you. 
“Oh, fuck..that felt good,” Miguel sighed as he slowly pulled out of you, marveling at how your cunt dripped with his seed. 
Taking off his mask completely, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you passionately. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you reminded him, poking him hard on the chest.
He simply laughed and pecked your lips a couple of times. “Sorry, nena. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he cooed, nuzzling his face against your neck.
“Happy Halloween.” 
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
@xaaaaaaax, @randomwriteralan, @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn
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disneyprincemuke · 2 months
Text
of drunk regrets * fem!driver
the morning after vegas
what does one do when you have no recollection of getting married?
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver
notes: hi late update and that’s because i was crocheting the entire day lol
(series masterlist)
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she hums turning around, her arm landing on something solid instead of a soft pillow. she opens an eye, flinching back when her eyes land on someone’s clothed back, then groans when nausea slowly hits her.
“who the fuck is this?”
the person next to her hums. they left their head before dropping it back into the pillow. “mm.”
she looks around to the best of her ability, snorting when she realises that amidst all her drunken antics from the night before, they didn’t even end up on the bed. they’re sleeping on the carpeted floor of her hotel room.
she lifts her head, ignoring the nausea hitting her all at once. the bed is empty.
a hand comes up to nurse her head, looking down at the body lying next to her with the blanket draped over their shoulder loosely. she brought somebody back to her hotel room with her? now that’s just a tabloid rumour waiting to blow up in her face when she opens up her phone.
she leans forward, wobbling slightly, as she tries to get a glimpse of their face. her eyes widen, landing a smack on their shoulder with some force. "what the hell are you doing here?"
"don't hit me, i'm trying to sleep."
"mick! you're in my hotel room!"
"what?" blue eyes are exposed to the dim lights of the room, disappearing once more when mick shuts his eyes. "what am i doing here?"
"how would i know?" she sighs, slowly lying back down on the ground. "i don't remember anything."
"we didn't do anything... did we?"
she looks down at herself, surprisingly dressed in her pyjamas without any recollection of even making it back into her hotel room in the first place. "i hope not."
"you hope?" mick cries, shaking his head in dismay. "this is not good."
"give me a second. i need to think," she sighs, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead. "start thinking. do you remember anything from last night?"
mick also sighs, simply shaking his head. he pulls the blanket over his body and snuggles back into his pillow. "no, but wake me up when you've figured it out. i'm really hungover right now, mate."
"really? you don't think i am?"
"i'm sure you are, but– what the hell is this on my finger? when did i get a mood ring?"
"you have a mood ring?" there's a momentary pause. "oh, look. i've got one too. when did i–"
they both sit up hurriedly, hissing in pain as they point at each other with a loud gasp. "no! are you serious? did we really do that? when did we even have the time to do that?"
mick cries. "my mother is going to kill me."
"mine will kill me – i'm barely 21, mick!"
"i'm going to american jail! you're not even legal here!" he rubs his eyes. “i don’t wanna go to jail here!”
she scrambles around for her phone, eyes widening at her notifications.
SUPERMAX you and mick???
RATSELL what's ur ig post about m8?
LOWGAN when u wake up, there's a cup of water and an advil on the bedside for u also, check ur instagram
PASTRY you did the funniest thing last night.
LILLIES thanks for the free pizza wish i could've been there for the actual ceremony though? it's ok, maybe at your next wedding
ALBONO please tell me you didn't
LAW SON i think u may have sent logan over the edge cuz wtf is bro doing in my hotel room ranting to charlotte and i at 5am
MICKEY ur asleep rn i can't sleep when do u think we should renew our vows??? oh no we got married!??!??!
BLYTHE mate u got married without me in attendance??? not saying i'm offended but like seriously?
THE BETTER SARGEANT who u married to? if it's logan istg omg is it mick? i saw ur instagram
LANCE
congrats!!!
if i’d known sooner, i’d have bought you a wedding gift before landing in vegas
i’ll get one before the last race i promise
SEBASTIAN ur very funny, do u know that? text me when ur up, we should talk
MUMMY wowww let me know what wedding gift to get you you grow up so fast, my love
PAPA what is all this ruckus i'm hearing between mum and blythe about you getting married? call me.
KRISTEN (PR) team meeting asap. bring the schumacher.
she glances at mick. "my dad's going to kill you."
mick turns to her, shoulders slumped with his eyes widened in panic. "i really really hope my mother gets to me first." he shakes his head and pats around the ground for his phone. "you know what? i'll just tell her myself."
“don’t bother,” she scoffs, lying back down in the pillow sprawled on the floor. “i vividly remember you calling gina when we were getting pizza that you married me in vegas.”
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kristen chews on the inside of her cheek, scanning the group around her. "what is this? i only told you to bring mick."
the girl takes off the sunglasses on her face and sighs. "you think i didn't try telling them off? is this your first time meeting these losers? i– listen, i'm too hungover to tell them off, kristen."
"please let us stay?" max smiles, batting his eyelashes at the older woman. "i promise we'll be quiet. i'm just curious over the events of last night."
"so am i," kristen points out in a soft voice, moving her eyes over the pair seated on the couch on the other side of her table. at that point, they are the least of her concerns. "do you know the pr nightmare you just caused over a couple of drinks? do you have any idea the reckless thing you just did?"
"please don't shout," she says softly, eyes closing. "it was stupid, we know. in my defense–"
"they shouldn't have even let us in the chapel in the first place in that state," mick sighs, shaking his head disapprovingly. “so technically, whose fault is it, really?”
“both of yours for even coming up with the stupid idea in the first place!” logan screams, pointing at them in frustration. “you made a bad decision!”
kristen glances at logan, shooting him a side eye for disrupting her meeting. when logan shrugs, she simply looks back at the married pair her seats. “you’re not even 21! you did this in america too! god!”
“and they shouldn’t have permitted it knowing that i wasn’t 21!” the young girl shrieks, immediately defending herself. this is a hill she is willing to die on. “let’s focus more on the fact that they let two drunk idiots get married instead of the fact that i thought of it.”
“you came up with that idea?” max throws his head back, hissing softly as he shook his head. “why am i not surprised?”
“right? you have to tell her how stupid she is for this,” logan rambles in frustration. “seriously! you couldn’t go one year without making a stupid decision?
she rolls her eyes, glancing at mick from the side of her eyes. he flashes her an apologetic grin and she shrugs with another eye roll in response.
“i mean, you’re an adult. you can do whatever you want, but do you know how legally exhausting the entire process will be from here on out?” max continues, throwing his arms in the air. “knowing you, you won’t like it! there’s a lot of papers to sign!”
“and paper work to read!” logan adds on. “seriously!”
“god, (y/n), how could you be so stu–“
“i came up with the idea,” mick speaks out, turning to max and logan with a small smile. “it’s not her fault, you guys. come on. lay off her a little bit.”
she shoots him a questioning stare. “no, wait–“
mick laughs. “the deal at the pizza place just looked so good. i’m not excusing it because we were drunk, but cut us some slack.”
sebastian, sitting quietly in the corner of the room, finally stands up. he folds his arms over his chest. “it doesn’t matter who came up with the crazy idea to get married in vegas.”
“you’re still not mad?” logan raises an eyebrow. “there’s got to be some part of you that is.”
“how about let me conduct my meeting with my driver in peace? unless you want to take over my job of being her pr officer…” kristen speaks out, looking around the room to shut down any more forms of interruption. she looks back at her. “let me see the marriage certificate.”
“the what?”
“you signed one, didn’t you?“
she scrunches her nose and looks at mick. “did we sign one? i really can’t remember.”
“i don’t,” mick cuts himself off, looking just as clueless, “i literally blacked out last night. i don’t remember anything.”
sebastian beams, standing a little straighter. “i have it right here! look at it, kristen.”
he puts down a piece of paper on the table. the entire room watches the woman read over the paper, lips pressed together.
a small laugh bubbles from her, grabbing the certificate into her hands and bringing it closer to her face. her laugh gets a little louder, sebastian eventually joining her with a hand over his mouth.
“what is so funny?” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “all i can think about is the shopping spree i can’t have this month over the lawyer fees.”
“and the fact that i could end up in american jail for marrying a 20-year-old!”
kristen grins, slamming the certificate down onto the table. “it’s illegitimate.”
“what?”
“oh?”
“surprising turn of events!”
“illegitimate?”
a hand slams into the table, the youngest in the room jumping to her feet. “illegitimate? what about my free pizza? how is that illegitimate? i’m not a schumacher anymore?”
“you changed your name?” oscar pipes up, roaring in laughter, covering his face. this entire ordeal has been very amusing to him.
she turns around sheepishly with a small smile. “i was planning to. how cool would it be to be a schumacher?”
“what the fuck?” logan says to her, bewildered at the thought process. “you’re not married and you’re telling me that’s the only thing you’re concerned about? not being a schumacher in the eye of the law?”
mick giggles, looking up at her with an impressed expression. “schumacher does go along well with your name.”
“i know. should we get married for realsies after this weekend and legally change my name?”
“have you learned nothing from this?” kristen throws her hands into the air. she leans back into her seat, letting out the heaviest sigh of relief as she no longer has to engage with any legal teams. pr wise, it would be easy.
she shrugs, sitting back down into the cushioned seat. “don’t get drunk with mick in vegas.”
“first and last time i’m drinking that much with you,” mick adds on with a snort. though, there’s a small smile playing on his face as he looks at her.
they both know that won’t be the last time they’ll be sending their pr officers into a frenzy. they’re truly a force to be reckoned with.
and, it could have been worse.
“i paid for all the pizzas you ate and threw up last night,” sebastian sighs, shaking his head. “you owe me like $100.”
she nods. “okay, i’ll pay you. still no shopping spree for me this month, i guess.”
mick clicks his tongue, giving her a thumbs up. “i’ll pay him. consider it my wedding gift to you, wife.”
“she’s not your wife,” logan points out with an eye roll. “didn’t even get married in the first place, remember? illegitimate. not even a real certificate. never happened. literally no record of it.”
“i’m curious,” max furrows his eyebrows and lips pouted out. “how did you pull this off to make it seem real, seb?”
“i arrived to their ‘wedding’–“
“not real!”
“logan, cut it out.”
“–before them. i spoke to the receptionist before they arrived; they don’t let drunk people get married. i convinced her to give them the slot anyway just to teach these two a lesson.”
“impressive?” kristen smiles. “you just saved me a lot of paper work.”
“and mick the beating he’d get from her dad if it actually ever happened to go through.”
she smiles, leaning over the arm rest to whisper at mick. she taps him on the shoulder. “we should celebrate with ice cream.”
— bonus
they flood out of the office collectively, the young girl looking down at the mood ring around her ring finger. “we should keep the rings, shouldn’t we, mick? keepsake.”
“to remind you of your bad decision making?” logan questions.
“no, to piss you off.” she turns around and shoves him back gently. “of course, just to keep memory of the one time i was almost a schumacher!”
sebastian tilts his head. “you know you’ll still be you, right? even if you’re legally considered a schumacher? you won’t get his blue eyes.”
“i could,” she hums with a smile. “so, husband. watching the race from my garage tonight like a factory manufactured wag?”
“can’t, wife,” mick sighs. “i work for mercedes.”
“i could get you the second seat if you wanted.”
“you have the power to do that?” she nods. “that’s hot.”
“cut it out, you guys are making max uncomfortable!” oscar grunts, pushing the pair apart.
beside them, max has his fingers plugged into his ears and is humming softly to himself. “it’s not real, it’s not real. they’re not actually married,” he whispers to himself. “and it will never happen.”
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lotus-n-l0ve · 9 months
Text
𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐞𝐞
— Peter Parker x Stark!Female Reader
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☯ SYNOPSIS : When Peter's girlfriend pays him a little visit in Midtown High School and meets his long time bully, Flash Thompson.
☯ WARNINGS : Au, stark!reader, Peter is barely present in the fic, cursing.
☯ NOTE FROM LOTUS : Hey guys. I have been having such a bad writer's block that I couldn't write anything for past few weeks. I'm writing this to, hopefully, get over my writer's block.
𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 || 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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The red Saleen S7 car, parked outside of Midtown High School, gaining curious glances from the students and passersby. You wait, sitting on the driver's seat, with your phone in your hand. The past week you were out of the country with your father so you had not seen him for the past seven days and barely got to talk to him.
So when you came back today, you wanted to give him a surprise visit. You came here, all confident, but now you were doubting your choices. Maybe you should just wait till school ends?
Fuck it. You are Y/N Stark, girl. Since when do you get nervous?
You checked yourself last time in the back mirror. Perfect as always. You throw yourself a flying kiss and put on your favourite pair of glasses. The car door opens with a click and you get down. It was not long before you were walking down the halls of Midtown High, making everyone stop what they were doing and gawk at you.
You chuckle in your mind. Of course you loved being the centre of attention. You were Tony Stark's daughter after all. Now there's one problem. You don't know exactly where Peter is. You look around the hall before your eyes fall on a boy, sitting with two girl on each side.
Without any second thoughts, you walk up to him, "Hey, do you know where Peter Parker is?"
Flash tore his eyes from the beautiful girls in his arm to the legs standing in front of him. He raised his eyes to your face. His gaze so disgusting that made you want to throw up.
"Talking to me, angel?" Flash stood up, abandoning the girls.
You roll your eyes at his pathetic attempt of flirting. At least he got the angel part right.
"I asked if you know where Peter Parker is." You deadpan.
"Peter Parker? Oh! You mean penis Parker. What do you need with him? I'm sure I can help you way more than he can." Flash wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a suggestive look.
You just stared at him, completely unimpressed and now angered. This pathetic flirt has the audacity to call your baby penis— wait a damn minute. Penis Parker? Something clicked in your mind.
"Are you Flash Thompson?" You ask before you could stop yourself.
Surprise flashed on his face before a smug smirk appeared on his face.
"Wow! I know that I'm famous but not much. Damn!" He said, running a hand through his hair.
You giggle at his ignorance as you take off your glasses. Folding it and keeping it safely in your hand bag, you step towards him, closing the distance between you two.
"Listen here you little shit." The smirk on his fell at your words, "If I ever hear from Peter that even got anywhere near him, I'll kidnap you, shave off your head, leave you on a deserted island and post your disgusting nudes all over the internet."
"Wh—"
"Shut up and listen." Flash gulped with fear, his face covered in sweat. The menacing aura around you looked scarier than the monster under his bed.
You say while jabbing on his forehead with your pointer finger, "Don't think of him, don't look at him, don't walk on his direction, don't breathe on his direction. Don't go anywhere around my boyfriend. Got it, you failed experiment of a chimpanzee?"
"Y-yes, I....um, I-I..... I under-understand." He nodded his head vigorously. Anything to get away from you.
"Good." You back away, giving him space to finally breathe in relief. Fuck! He didn't know Peter's girlfriend was this scary.
"Y/N?" The familiar voice of your boyfriend called from behind and your demeanour changed like lizards change colours.
"Hey, Pete." You walk up, giving him a quick kiss, "let's go, you are skipping class today. I missed you."
You linked your arm with him and started dragging him out of the school. Peter complied with you because he did miss you a lot too and skipping one day was not going to do any harm on him.
"I missed you a lot." Peter smiled down at you.
You left the school, leaving behind a embarrassed Flash. After you two left did Flash realised the crowd of students circling around him in the hallway. And they were chuckling while looking down at his pants?
Flash looked, "FUCK!"
His blue jeans were now dark blue, water spread on the floor around him. He had peed in his pants. His face turned red with anger and embarrassment. He should not have fucked with Peter.
FUCK!
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© 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐔𝐒-𝐍-𝐋𝟎𝐕𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑, 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 — all content rights belongs to LOTUS-N-L0VE. do not plagiarize any works and do not repost or translate onto any other sites.
All the rights and credits of the characters, gifs, songs and pictures used here belongs to their rightful owners.
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A media literacy handbook for Israel-Gaza
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Next Tuesday (Oct 31) at 10hPT, the Internet Archive is livestreaming my presentation on my recent book, The Internet Con.
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Media explainers are a cheap way to become an instant expert on everything from billionaire submarine excursions to hellaciously complex geopolitical conflicts, but On The Media's "Breaking News Consumers' Handbooks" are explainers that help you understand other explainers:
https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/segments/breaking-news-consumers-handbook-israel-and-gaza-edition-on-the-media
The latest handbook is an Israel-Gaza edition. It doesn't aim to parse fine distinctions over the definition of "occupation" or identify the source of shell fragments. Rather, it offers seven bullet points' worth of advice on weighing all the other news you hear about the war:
https://media.wnyc.org/media/resources/2023/Oct/27/BNCH_ISRAEL_GAZA_EDITION_1.pdf
I. "Headlines are obscured by the fog of war"
Headline writers have a hard job under the best of circumstances – trying to snag your interest in a few words. Headlines can't encompass all the nuance of a story, and they are often written by editors, not the writers who produced the story. Between the imperatives for speed and brevity and the broken telephone between editors and writers, it's easy for headlines to go wrong, even when no one is attempting to mislead you. Even reliable outlets will screw up headlines sometimes – and that likelihood goes way up in times like these. You gotta read the story, not just the headline.
II. Know red flags for bullshit
The factually untrue information that spreads furthest tends to originate with a handful of superspreader accounts. Whether these people are Just Wrong or malicious disinfo peddlers, they share a few characteristics that should trip your BS meter and prompt extra scrutiny:
High-frequency posting
Emotionally charged framing
Posts that purport to be summaries or excerpts from news outlets, but do not include links to the original
The phrase "breaking news" (no one has that many scoops)
III. Don't trust screenshots
Screenshots of news stories, tweets, and other social media should come with links to the original. It's just too damned easy to fake a screenshot.
IV. "Know your platform"
It used to be that Twitter got a lot of first-person accounts from people in the thick of crises, while Facebook and Reddit contained commentary and reposts. Today, Twitter is just another aggregator. This time around, there's lots of first-person, real-time reporting coming off Telegram (it runs well on old phones and doesn't chew up batteries). Instagram is widely used in both Israel and the West Bank.
V. "Crisis actors" aren't a thing
People who attribute war images to "crisis actors" are either deluded or lying. There's plenty of ways to distort war news, but paying people to pretend to be grieving family members is essentially unheard of. Any explanation that involves crisis actors is a solid reason to permanently block that source.
VI. There's plenty of ways to verify stuff that smells fishy
TinEye, Yandex and Google Image Search are all good tools for checking "breaking" images and seeing if they're old copypasta ganked from earlier conflicts (or, you know, video-games). The fact that an image doesn't show up in one of these searches doesn't guarantee its authenticity, of course.
VII. Think before you post
Israel-Gaza is the most polluted media pool yet. Don't make it worse.
There's plenty more detail on this (especially on the use of verification tools) in Brooke Gladstone's radio segment:
https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/otm/episodes/on-the-media-breaking-news-consumers-handbook-israel-gaza-edition
The media environment sucks, and warrants skepticism and caution. But we also need to be skeptical of skepticism itself! As danah boyd started saying all the way back in 2018, weaponized media literacy leads to conspiratorialism:
https://www.zephoria.org/thoughts/archives/2018/03/09/you-think-you-want-media-literacy-do-you.html
Remember, the biggest peddlers of "fake news" are also the most prolific users of the term. For a lot of these information warriors, the point isn't to get you to believe them – they'll settle for you believing nothing. "Flood the zone with bullshit" is Steve Bannon's go-to tactic, and it's one that his acolytes have picked up and multiplied.
It's important to be a critical thinker, but there's plenty of people who've figured out how to weaponize a critical viewpoint and turn it into nihilism. Remember, the guy who wrote How To Lie With Statistics was a tobacco industry shill who made his living obfuscating the link between smoking and cancer. It's absolutely possible to lie with statistics, but it's also possible to use statistics to know the truth, as Tim Harford explains in his 2021 must-read book The Data Detective:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford
There's a world of difference between being misled and being brainwashed. A lot of today's worry about "disinformation" and "misinformation" has the whiff of a moral panic:
https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2023/10/are-we-having-a-moral-panic-over-misinformation.html
It's possible to have a nuanced view of this subject – to take steps to enure you're not being tricked without equating crude tricks like sticking a fake BBC chyron on a 10-year-old image with unstoppable mind-control:
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/28/fog-o-war/#breaking-news
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rinhaler · 24 days
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Two Lovers Entwined !
You and your family move from the city to a small village in northern england. And after being the last person to arrive to the new place, you hadn't expected to get a Valentine's date on the day you moved in!
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ toji fushiguro x f!reader
Genre: porn! with a plot! (BRITISH au 🫨) Notes: this has series potential and i have a bunch of ideas so if u guys would like more lmk :3 thank you @chososdoll for beta reading and thank u @tteokdoroki for hyping me to post wheee !! Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, british slang (duh!), brief slut-shaming, size kink ♡, slight exhibitionism, dry humping, spanking ♡, cunnilingus, daddy!kink, vaginal sex, squirting, belly bulge ♡, creampie ♡, pet names (baby, princess, darlin', sweetheart etc.) Words: 9.5k
Chunky, chocolate-coloured platforms hit the pavement as you step out of the back of the taxi you know has definitely overcharged you. You roll your eyes as you read the metre. The driver watches you intensely as you circle around the car, leaning into his window as you pull out your purse.
“This is daylight robbery you know, love.” you chastise him, fluttering your lashes in hopes of getting some kind of discount. He makes no attempt to hide the way he leers at you, looking your body up and down before he meets your eyes once more.
“You can pay me back another way, if you’re short on cash.” he smiles, a missing front tooth presents itself confidently, as if he has a chance. It fades, instantly, when you can’t help but scoff at his lewd proposal.
“Dream on,” you scowl. You hand him the taxi fare you owe and huff realising the only thing left in your purse is one fake eyelash and a single penny. “The least you can do is get my suitcase out the back.” you command him.
He quickly clears his throat as you back away from the door to allow him some room to do as you’ve asked. You check your phone to find the address pinned in your family group chat, looking up again to see if you can home in on the right house. Your eyes stop on number seven with a smile.
There’s a ton of boxes outside and the door is wide open.
You should have figured.
The taxi driver brings your case to you, eager to get rid of it. There is clear distaste in his eyes, the leopard print pattern evidently ruining his image. You stare at him with a smile, however, pointing to your new home.
“It’s that one there, thanks.” you tell him, saying nothing else until he drags your case along. You roll your eyes again when his back is to you, following after him slowly.
You wiggle your fingers at him, a feeble attempt of saying goodbye as he hastens to his car. He’s desperate to leave, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Your eyes scan over the village slowly as you assess your new home. There are a few things that catch your eye, but nothing particularly exciting.
There’s a market in the centre of the village, some food and clothes stalls you’re sure will grow tiresome after a couple of days of living here. The sound of your family’s raised voices catches your ear and you suppose you ought to go and finally show yourself.
Though your eyes light up at the sight of a sign that you hadn’t spotted earlier. It’s neon, you can tell despite it being switched off in the daylight. The Attic. You hadn’t expected such a quaint, suburban village to be home to a nightclub.
Maybe there will be more to do here than you thought.
You step back on your heel to retreat indoors, but before you can fully turn away, the door to the lofted nightclub swings open. Your eyes squint as you watch a man lean over the balcony, a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. You can’t tell if he looks angry or defeated.
Even from this distance, the colour of his emerald eyes staring down at you is blinding. You try to hide your smile with a pout as he takes a drag from his cigarette, his gaze intensifying as his lungs blacken through an elongated intake. A plume of smoke leaves his nostrils as he smirks down at you.
And that is your cue to leave.
The handsome stranger soon leaves your mind when you enter the chaos that is your new family home. Boxes are stacked high, some full and some empty and littered around the front room. You toss your handbag down onto the couch, sitting down to put on the TV until someone realises you’re here.
You kick your feet up onto the coffee table, folding your arms across your chest as you channel surf. Nothing catches your eye, and you can’t hear any of it anyway. Not with the rowdy commotion echoing from room to room.
You consider sneaking out, waiting until it’s all said and done before you get roped into it, too. It’s tempting, too tempting. The TV cuts to black and you quickly pick up your handbag before strutting towards the front door.
“Aw here she is, only five hours late.” your elder sister yells, her deep, disapproving voice hitting everyone’s ear in an instant.
You take a slow inhale as your eyes roll back, bending down to pick up one of the boxes on the ground. Your sister watches as you spin around, a fake glossy smile on your lips despite her eyes staring daggers at you.
“Where do you want this?” you ask, voice giddy as you practically catwalk from the entrance to stand beside her.
“Is that Baby home?” you hear a familiar, loving voice ask. Your nana smiles as she enters the front room, she holds her hands over her heart as she looks at you. “You’re such a good girl.” she tells you, looking at the box in your hands.
The box you’re fairly certain is empty.
“Where were ya?” your sister asks. “We waited ages for you this morning. Bet a taxi cost a fortune as well. Were you at a lad’s house?”
“Give it a rest, Sabrina.” you roll your eyes. She huffs, big hoop earrings swinging as you see her gearing up to yell at you. She stops short, though, your nana intervening before she can get started. “Where’s my room, nana?” you ask.
“You’ve got the smallest one.” Sabrina tells you.
“I better not have!”
“Maybe if you showed up on—”
“Enough!” your nana shouts, snapping you both out of it to focus on her instead. You’ve never heard your nana get really angry before. She never swears, never calls anyone names. But living under one roof like this is bound to test her patience. “Your brother’s moving all your boxes into your room, love.”
You kiss her cheek before sauntering down the hall. Your mum looks at you happily when you check inside each room and end up finding her inside of hers. She points you in the right direction, and you find your room at the very end of the long hallway.
Your brother’s face lights up when he sees you, rushing over to give you a tight, rib-crushing hug. He shows you how he organised all of the boxes for you to unpack, clearly proud of himself for going to so much effort for you. You look around, impressed with the size but not with the fact you’ve got lots of work to do.
“Do you like it?” Danny asks, you nod, pinching his cheek teasingly.
“Can’t be arsed to do the bedding, though.” you laugh.
“I’ll do it if you make me something to eat.” he tells you. “I’m starving.”
“Alright.” you shake his hand, agreeing to the terms. You don’t suppose he’s expecting a five-star meal, you’re sure a sandwich or a bowl of cereal will suffice. He goes to pick up a new pack of bedding, you definitely didn’t buy it. And you can’t recall your mum telling you that she was buying you some.
“Nana got it.” he tells you, deducing instantly what you’re thinking about it. “Must be nice to be her favourite.”
“Did she not get anyone else’s?” you ask.
“No,” he smiles. “Baby.” he says your nickname with a little malice behind his words, but you know him well enough to know he’s kidding. You’re his favourite sibling, after all. He’s yours, too. He watches you leave as you go to make something for him to eat.
Sabrina rolls her eyes at you as you enter the kitchen. You can tell what she’s thinking without her saying a word. You never cook. She always says you’d start a fire pouring milk on cereal.
She’s wrong, though.
That hasn’t happened… yet.
Your younger sister says hello to you as she carries numerous hangers full of clothes from one room to another. Her disgustingly gaudy wardrobe is instantly recognizable, you’d hoped they would have been lost in the move, so you’d have an excuse to overhaul her wardrobe.
You rummage through the cupboards until you find a bowl. It takes just as long to figure out which drawers contain the cutlery. Before you even bother trying to hunt down whichever cereal Danny prefers, you open the fridge. Your brows knit together in confusion as you see how empty it is.
Completely empty.
“Where’s the milk?” you ask.
“Got none, got a food shop coming later.” Sabrina tells you. You groan, shutting the fridge before walking over to her. “What?”
“Danny’s hungry.”
“Well, you’ll have to get a few bits from the shop, then.” she informs you. Your eyes widen in horror, and it’s too late to cover it up before she laughs at you, unimpressed as always. “There’s one when you turn right out of here, go on princess.”
“I’ve got no money.” you tell her.
She rolls her eyes so hard they turn white, strutting from the dining room to the kitchen to grab her own handbag and pull out her purse. She holds out a £20 note, almost placing it in your hand before pulling it back. Her stare is as stern as her words as she warns you. Warning you to only get something small for your brother to eat and she wants the change back.
You take it, agreeing, heading out with your knock-off designer handbag in tow. The fresh air hits you, your skin breaking out in goosebumps as you look both ways. You smile when you see the shop, at least thankful for how close it is. Maybe this is one plus from moving here from the city.
You’ve never been short of male attention since you grew a pair of tits and learnt how to do makeup. You were the first girl in your year to get boobs and the others hated you for it. The boys, however…
It’s been years since then. You’re twenty-four and things still haven’t changed. You can’t even walk to the fucking shop to buy some milk without being ogled. Sabrina’s voice blares in your mind, though. You know what she’d say.
‘It’s your own fault for dressing like a slag.’
She hasn’t even actually said it, but you’ve managed to make yourself angry with her. You know her too well. She calls you a slag any chance she gets, rarely having anything actually nice to say about you. The woman behind the counter eyes you up as you bring a 3 litre bottle of milk and 1kg box of cereal to the counter.
You walk away to find something to treat yourself too for your hard effort.
You grab a bottle of red wine and a gossip magazine, placing them down next to the other things. How you’re going to sneak these into your room, you have no idea, but you don’t regret it. You feel a twinge of guilt as the cashier reads out the total, but not enough to put them back.
She puts them in two separate bags for you, and her expression seems to soften from earlier when you say goodbye with a kind, warm smile. You exit the store, spotting your nana on her mobility scooter about to head back inside.
“Nana!” you shout, walking as quickly as you can in your heels to where she is.
“I’ll be the only one without—” a young voice speaks before cutting off abruptly.
“Ah!” you shout as a smaller figure bumps into you in your hurry. “Hey, watch where you’re— Oh.” you look down and see a young boy, a few years younger than Danny looking up at you.
“Careful, sweetheart.” a man behind him speaks, though you aren’t quite sure if he’s talking to you or the boy. You pause for a beat too long when you realise who he is. It’s the man from the balcony, earlier.
“Sorry, babe. Give me a minute, alright?” you smile at the boy before rushing over to your nana. You hope they wait for you so that you can apologise properly. Your nana beams as you approach, her smile only becoming wider as she notices what you haven’t.
You’ve been followed.
“If you sneak these inside, I’ll split the wine wi’h ya.” you tell her. Your nana’s eyes narrow, but she takes the bag from you and puts it in the basket of her scooter. She puts her own shopping back on top of it, winking at you before she rotates to go inside.
“You are a bad influence, Baby.” she smiles before disappearing.
“’s that your name?” you turn around in surprise at the sound of the deep, yet soothing voice. “’Baby?’” he asks.
“To some, yeah.” you smile. “Sorry little fella, wasn’t looking where I was going.” you look down at the young boy who you can tell is his son. He’s his carbon copy, they’ll be twins when he grows up, you’re sure.
“S’okay…” he says, shyly.
You smile, turning to head inside. You’re stopped, once again, by that hypnotic, low baritone.
“Did you know this place was a restaurant before you moved in?” he asks you. You turn around, looking at your new home again and nodding in understanding. You didn’t, but looking at it now, it makes sense.
You hadn’t expected small talk. The stare he was giving you from the balcony is wholly different to the one he’s giving you now. Is he nervous? The emerald eyes piercing you from the balcony earlier were the eyes of a predator. Maybe he’s thrown off because his son is with him.
He’s probably married.
Your eyes flit down to his left hand to see if you can see a ring or a tan line. But he’s a step ahead of you, it seems, when you realise his hand is in his pocket.
“Dad,” the boy speaks. He looks fed up, like he’s ready to go home and kick off his shoes after a long day at school. “If you’re going to ask her out, can you just do it and stop embarrassing me?”
It makes you laugh. There’s such a grumpy look on his face. Your brother used to be the same, but you loved him anyway. So moody and grouchy and tired of everyone around him. But never you, he was always a ray of sunshine when his favourite sister was around. You thought it would wear off when he got a little older, though. But he’s sixteen now and he still adores you.
After how much shit Sabrina talks when you aren’t around, though, you can’t figure out why.
“Are you not married?” you ask, boldly. He shakes his head.
“I was.” he says. It’s enough without saying much at all, so you decide not to pry. “Thank you for embarrassing me, Megumi.”
You smile at Megumi again, amused by him and his pouty little face. His dad is sweet with him, too. You feel your heart swell as you watch him ruffle his son’s hair. He moves his head to the side, desperate to get away from his dad’s attempt to mess up his hair.
“So you’re Megumi,” you start, eyes moving to look elsewhere. “What’s his daddy called?” you ask him.
He chuckles, a shallow laugh leaving his lungs as he listens to you. “Toji.” he says, simply. “And you’re ‘Baby’.”
“No,” you shake your head. “Only people I like call me Baby. Maybe I’ll tell you my name if you ask me on that date.” you tell him, and he smirks again.
“Alright.” he nods. “Are you free Wednesday night? I’ll take you to dinner.”
“… Dad.”
Toji shushes his son as he watches you eagerly, attempting to decipher your expression as you think. A feeling of anxiety rushes through him as he watches you pull a face he can only assume is disgust. He’s never felt so nervous before, but he doesn’t know why. He’s completely off his game, his son being present is definitely hindering his capabilities to charm you.
You pull out your phone, quickly opening the calendar app to check the date on Wednesday. Megumi rolls his eyes at his father’s silencing. You look at his son, and then back to him.
“Wednesday? Are you sure?” you ask.
“Of course.” he nods, practically puffing his chest out to show his confidence.
You smile widely, looking down at Megumi in amusement as the young boy shakes his head. And then, you nod too, agreeing to a date on Wednesday. He releases a heavy exhale, definitely a sigh of relief. Though there’s still a cocky smile on his face, satisfied that he got to look cool in front of his son.
“Have you got a pen?” you ask them both. Megumi shucks off his backpack and fishes out a pencil case to hand you a pen. You take the receipt from your shopping bag and write your phone number on it effortlessly. Toji holds out his hand to take it, but you give it to Megumi instead. “Whatever you were asking your dad for before I bumped into you, don’t give him this ‘til you get it, alright?” you giggle as Megumi shoves it deep into his bag.
He nods, happily, putting everything away and then putting his backpack on excitedly.
“You’re gonna be trouble, aren’t ya?” Toji asks, and you nod.
“I’m not cheap, either.” you warn him.
“There you are! How long does it take to go to the bloody shop?” Sabrina yells at you. You hold your eyes shut as embarrassment courses through you, getting shouted at like she’s your mother is definitely doing damage to your own cool exterior. She audibly groans when she sees what you’re doing, shouting louder to draw you away. “You’ve been here five minutes and you’re already getting chatted up, unbelievable. Danny is starving so you’ll have to stop being a slag for five minutes.”
“Sorry,” you apologise to Toji and his son before turning to follow Sabrina indoors. “See you Wednesday. You’re so romantic.” you wink, leaving them alone as you shut the door behind you.
Toji chuckles when he can hear your sister screaming at you for buying a 3 litre bottle of milk and the biggest box of cereal you could find. He puts his arm around Megumi’s shoulders just as she starts to shout at you about the fact you don’t even have the receipt.
“Dad.” Megumi speaks up again for the first time since he was shushed.
“Yeah, kid?” he looks down at his son as they walk in tandem.
“You know it’s Valentine’s Day on Wednesday, don’t you?”
Toji stops in his tracks while Megumi carries on walking. He looks back at your house and then at his son, who has now turned to face him with yet another of his unimpressed expressions.
He pulls out his phone, and it reminds him of when you did the very same thing. You even asked him if he was sure about the day. How could he be so stupid? And of course, as always, his son is absolutely right.
It all makes sense, now.
He’s so romantic.
“Fuck.”
--
It’s tomorrow.
Tomorrow you’re going on your date with Toji. You wonder how long it took him to realise that it’s Valentine’s Day. Thinking about it still makes you laugh. His little boy tried to warn him, the look on his face keeps making the apples of your cheeks swell.
Your nana has noticed the constant smile on your face, too. She’s been holding your wine hostage until you got a moment to yourselves. If there’s something about your nana, it’s that she loves to gossip. And she wants to know all the details on what’s got you so giddy.
“Where’s ‘Brina?” you ask, stepping out into the garden with a blanket around your shoulders.
The February air has a nasty bite in it. It hasn’t stopped you from wearing skimpy clothes, of course, but it’s hard to ignore when you’re sitting in the back garden for the sake of it. Your nana is all bundled up, too, though she gestures for you to throw a match in the firepit.
And you do, without hesitation.
You’d do anything for her.
“Work. Your mum is at work. Saphire and Danny are at the youth centre. Did you bring the wine glasses?” she asks. You hold them up with a cheeky smile, and she claps happily. “Good girl, now, spill.”
“Give me the wine, first.” you tell her. She hands it over and you twist off the lid with some struggle. But soon enough, you’re filling the two glasses with as much of the cherry-coloured liquid as they can hold.
You’ve been checking your phone non-stop since you gave your number away to Megumi. He must still be haggling with his dad. You wonder what he’d wanted in the first place. A new game or something, maybe.
You told him you aren’t cheap.
You thought it would be a good incentive to get his son what he wanted.
“He was so handsome. Looks closer to my age than yours, though. Should’ve give him my number instead.” your nana tells you as she reaches for her glass. You laugh but shake your head. “How old’s he, love?”
“Dunno, definitely closer to my age though, sorry nana.” you giggle. “I know nowt about him, I’ll find out tomorrow. He’s fit though, I know that much.”
“You sure he’s not married? He’s got a little boy, you might end up his step-mum.” she teases you, but you scoff at that.
“It’s one date, nana.” you roll your eyes.
You hadn’t really thought that far ahead. And why would you? Because it really is just one date. It’s just a bit of fun, and on Valentine’s Day at that. You’d expected to spend it alone, maybe doing something with your family, but you’ve actually bagged yourself a date.
You’re not meeting up with him to discuss marriage or adopting his son.
“I’ve got nowt to wear and I’m skint.” you tell her.
“Here,” she fishes her purse out of her basket and hands you £40. “Have a look at that market in the village, I’m sure there’s something nice. Saph said it’s a thrift shop.”
“I’d rather go into the city, nana. Not trusting Saph’s fashion sense.”
“You, Baby, are a gorgeous girl. You could make a bin bag look like vintage designer. Don’t waste money on a taxi into town, just have a look tomorrow.” she finishes her wine and shakes her glass, demanding a top up.
Just as you screw off the lid, you hear the doorbell ring. You both look at each other, suspicious as to who or what would be waiting for you at the door. Your eyes widen and a curious pout forms on your face as you walk back inside with your fist wrapped around the neck of the bottle you’re holding.
Your nana isn’t far behind, either.
You open the door slowly, peeping through the crack before you open it fully. Your heart is racing when you see Megumi outside, alone, an assortment of gifts in his hands.
“Hi Megumi! What are you doing here?” you smile.
“My dad wanted me to bring you this stuff.” he tells you, handing you a comically large stuffed bear and an expensive looking shopping bag. “’n he wants to know if you’ll be able to meet him at the bar tomorrow because he might be late.”
“Um, yeah, that’s fine. Tell him thank you for the presents.” you tell him as you take them from him. “Tell ‘im I’ll be there at 8ish. Wait where is he? Do you need someone to walk you home?”
“I’m twelve, not two.” he rolls his eyes. “He’s just up there anyway. Bye.”
You shut the door as you watch him walk up the stairs to The Attic nightclub, making sure he gets inside safely before looking through the shopping bag. You sit the giant bear down beside you on the couch before sitting down yourself.
“What a gent.” your nana comments. She starts looking through the bag while you read the card you retrieved from inside.
Was gonna give you these tomorrow, but didn’t think you’d wanna carry the bear around on our date. Happy Valentine’s, Baby. —Toji
“Baby, look at this.” your nana tells you, handing you a jewellery box.
You open it to see a necklace with your nickname inside. It looks expensive. It looks real. What kind of a man is Toji, anyway? This couldn’t have been easy to get his hands on in just a few days. A custom-made gold necklace for a woman he just met days earlier. You can’t believe what you’re looking at, it’s probably worth more than everything you own combined. More than your house. And he got it for you before you’ve even been on a date with him.
He's the type of man who can get his hands on something like this.
“What does he do, Baby?” she asks you, and you shrug.
“I was wondering that myself…” you mutter, pulling the bag closer to yourself to see a heart shaped box full of chocolates as well as a single red rose. Your favourites. “Liking him more and more by the minute, though.” you smirk.
--
In the end, you didn’t end up getting anything new to wear. Sapphire surprisingly picked out a dress from your wardrobe that you’d forgotten all about. Maybe her fashion sense isn’t God awful when she’s looking at someone else’s clothes.
Sabrina had been surprisingly quiet while you were getting ready. You’d expected her to give you an earful about being a slag again and not to stay out too late. But no, not a word. You snuck out before she could change her mind, though, only saying goodbye to your nana as you left.
Instantly, you were lost. You’d been so preoccupied with unpacking and doing housework under the command of your sister that you’d barely been out to get a feel for the place. The village is small, but it’s dark. You haven’t been to the bar you’d agreed to meet at, yet, so you had no idea where you were going.
You were embarrassed by how many times you had to stop and ask for directions on your way there. Though through your investigation you discovered that everyone refers to the bar as The Cats Tail, not that you knew why until you got there.
You hadn’t expected to find a lake in the middle of the village with docking leading in different directions. Your heels make the wood creak with each step you take as you decide where to go. There’s a pub in one direction, and a fairly large boat docked in the other. He’d said it was a bar, but maybe Toji actually meant to invite you to the pub. You turn to walk away, but stop when you see water begin to slosh around the boat as someone boards it. There are plants in the water that catch your eye.
Cattails.
You head towards the opposite side of the boat. And it’s only then that you see the bright party lights and loud music that you’d assumed were coming from the pub.
A few heads turn when you walk inside, but you pay them no mind. Instead, you look around for an empty table or at least a chair to sit in. You yelp as you feel a hand hold the small of your back.
“Did you just get here?” Toji asks, checking his watch. “I’ve been worried you’ve been waiting ages for me.”
“Got lost, didn’t I?” you smile. You look around and notice a visible change in the atmosphere, now. A few people getting up to move or sit on the decking outside. Toji seizes the opportunity to lead you to a table that has opened up. “What were you doing?” you wonder.
“Just work stuff.” he smiles, looking around casually.
You hadn’t noticed the dark diamond shaped scar stabbing through his lips until now. Your eyes almost flicker shut, but you smile instead before he turns around to signal one of the barmaids over.
“Dunno what makes you think you’re so special that you can’t get up and order like everyone else, love.” her voice has you looking up instantly. The fucking familiar and callous tone makes your skin chill. “What are you doing here?”
“Sabrina, are you joking? No wonder you haven’t been having a go at me all night, I didn’t know you were at work!” you raise your voice. “I didn’t know this is where you worked, either.”
“Yeah, well not all of us are getting gold necklaces handed out, are we?” she sighs, looking at your date with a suspicious glare. “You’re old enough to be her dad. What do you want wi’h her?”
“Can we just go somewhere else? She’s always rude like this, sorry. I didn’t—”
“Whatever you want, darlin’.” he nods in agreement. He smiles at your sister while she continues staring daggers at him. You don’t notice his smile fade to a look more sinister as you walk out from under your table and towards the exit. “I think I’d have been around ten if I was her dad, by the way. ‘m not that much older. Goodnight, Sabrina.”
He just laughs as you walk to the next destination; your repeated apologies are adorable. It’s not like it’s your fault your sister is a raging bitch. You both know that. But still, you’re embarrassed and you’re sorry. It isn’t exactly the best start to a date to have your sister show up and be rude.
You find yourself back where you started.
Your house.
You sigh, a little upset, that he seems to want to cut the date short. But instead of walking to your door, he leads you in the opposite direction. You’re climbing the stairs up to The Attic.
You haven’t been yet, but you’ve been excited to look inside. Every single penny you got when you lived in the city was saved up to waste at your favourite nightclub. Not that you ever made your own money, not with your mum subsidising your entire existence, much to your sister’s chagrin. But, still, getting away with the lifestyle that you’ve lived for so long is pretty impressive.
The lighting when you enter is almost blinding. Neon pink and red lights flood the interior, and you can only assume the colour choice is intentional. The music is pounding, and you can’t help but take it all in. It’s cosy, but perfect. You hadn’t imagined a place like this being in the centre of such a quaint village.
Your eyebrows scrunch up again when you notice everyone’s demeanour change as you look around. Especially the staff. Toji tucks your hair behind your ears, and talks over the music.
“What do you want to drink?” he asks.
“Don’t mind, nothing cheap.” you remind him.
He winks, leaning over the bar. “Champagne on ice, we’ll be over there.” Toji yells above the bass, pointing over to the VIP section of the club. His palm splays across the small of your back as he guides you there. “You look beautiful, by the way. I’m glad you liked the necklace.” he tells you.
You notice yourself fiddling with it around your neck when he mentions it. So you stop, smiling to affirm his claim. You’re not given a chance to say much as a man brings over a bucket of champagne and two flutes over for you.
Toji holds out his hand to the barman, and you’re a little taken aback when he hands him a large kitchen knife. Toji’s features narrow as he holds the bottle of champagne in his other hand. You watch him, carefully, as he skilfully uses the knife to pop the cork from the bottle. He nods at the barman who takes the knife away and leaves you alone again.
You carry on observing him as he pours two glasses out for each of you.
“Why’s everyone so scared of you?” you ask, crossing one leg over the other as he hands you your drink.
Your eyes don’t leave him for a second as he gets comfortable, his legs spread wide and his elbows rest on the back of the couch his body is resting into. A lazy smirk plays on his face, dark scar pulling deliciously as he suppresses the urge to chuckle.
“It’s respect, not fear.” he tells you, sniffing a little before he takes a swig of his drink. “Your sister isn’t scared of me. You’re not scared of me. Are ya, darlin’?”
“Why do they respect you? What do you do?” you smirk, ignoring his question completely. Your eyes move to his free hand, his finger rapidly drawing a circle up towards the ceiling as he takes another drink.
“I’m their boss, sweetheart. This is mine.” he informs you. “I own the garage behind the pub, too. And a few other places but—”
“You’re rich, then.” you smirk. “Good to know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Means I’m never paying for a date if you ask me out again.” you smile, and he laughs. “Why didn’t you text me, though? Did you not get Megumi what he wanted?”
“He’s a nightmare. He wanted a new game all of his friends have got. Wasn’t gonna get him it, but I did straight away so I could get your number. But he’s still not given me it, been trying to extort me for more stuff. So, you’ll have to give it to me tonight.” he shakes his head, disappointed in himself for getting hustled by a twelve-year-old.
“See how tonight goes, yeah?” you wink. “If the little man isn’t giving you it…”
“You’re both ganging up on me? Unbelievable.” he tuts, but snickers thinking about how happy Megumi looked with all of the power you gave him with just a phone number. “Really, though. Did you like your presents?”
“Oh, yeah. You really are romantic. Planning our first date on Valentine’s Day of all days and getting me presents. I didn’t get anything for you, by the way. I was half expecting you to cancel.”
“Pfft, me? You said it yourself, had it all planned out. Thought you’d think it was romantic if I invited you out tonight, knew exactly what I was doing.” he lies, seamlessly. But it’s so charming, you can’t help but giggle. You pout, shaking your head in disapproval before laughing again. “No, don’t believe me?”
“Not at all.” you grin. “This necklace, though. It’s gorgeous, thank you.”
“The pleasure’s mine. Suits you, Baby.” he bites his lower lip when he finishes speaking, leaning forward in his seat. “You still haven’t told me your real name. Does that mean you’ll let me call you Baby? Do you like me, princess?”
You shuffle in your seat, changing which leg is crossed over which as you think about what you want to say next. He leans back into his seat yet again, and your breath hitches as he curls his finger at you, beckoning you closer to him.
You’re obedient.
You walk closer to him, and he looks up at you with so much attentiveness in his eyes. There’s a shallow grunt in his throat as he legs widen, your eyes rake over his large frame and you know what he wants. But you won’t give it to him, not right away.
He licks his lips as you sit down beside him, angling his body to look at you head on. You lean in close to him, nose almost touching and lips grazing as you tease him. He growls when he tries to kiss you and you pull away too quickly for him. All you can do is smile, gleefully, angling your lips to whisper your birth name into his ear.
“Hm… that is a beautiful name. But I think I prefer Baby.” he smiles. “How’d you get the nickname?” he wonders, and it’s genuine. There’s no flirtation in his voice and his eyes appear concentrated.
“It was my nana’s favourite auntie’s name, ‘n apparently I’m her double. I’m my nana’s favourite grandkid, too.” you explain.
“Bet you’re a lot of people’s favourite,” he smirks. “Will you let me call you Baby, whenever I want?”
You toy with the thin gold chain around your neck, nodding gratefully as you show off the name attached to it. “If you’ve got more like this up your sleeve, you can call me whatever you want.”
His eyes light up at that, his head tilting slightly as his eyes drift from your glossy lips to your necklace. You feel your breathing get deeper as he brushes your hair softly, pushing it so that it falls delicately behind your back. You don’t say a word as he teases you, his index finger gently tracing across your collarbone and towards your jawline. He smirks at the little hiccup you emit as his thumb toys with that fat of your lower lip.
“You are a goddess among mortals, Baby.” he tells you, the words almost drowned by the volume of the pulsing bass. You hadn’t realised how close he is to you, now. His scarred lips almost touching yours as he worships you through words. Your eyes are barely open as he begins to tease you how you had teased him moments prior. “You really know you’re worth, don’t ya? You’re worth more than every penny scraped together on this fucking planet.”
“Toji,” you speak, though it’s barely there. He lifts you with ease across his lap until you’re straddling him, rough hands rest so carefully in the curve of your hips, your dress riding up as his legs slowly spread. “M-My dress.” you panic, looking behind you to see if anyone is paying attention.
“It’s pretty,” he comments, his eyes that had been so fixated on yours drop to your thighs. He can’t help the way his breathing turns primal as he watches the material begin to bunch up. “I’d tear this off with my fuckin’ teeth, if you let me.” he explains, looking up at you again with the eyes of a predator.
“I’d make you get me a new one.” you smile.
“I’d buy you a hundred fucking dresses,” he continues. His gentle touch becomes greedy as his fingers find the globes of your ass and squeeze without care. You don’t even know when you’d began to roll your hips, you only realise as his jaw slowly falls open and his stare becomes heavy. “I know girls like you. But you’re so different, I can tell. You’re entitled to the fucking world and I wanna give it to ya.”
“Girls like me? What am I like, Toji?” you wonder, your movements slow as you prepare to be offended without any real right to be. He’s probably right, after all.
He bounces his legs until you fall forward, your lips ghost each other’s and you melt in his hold as you feel his teeth begin to tug at your jutting lower pout.
“You like money but you don’t wanna earn it,” he chuckles. “You like power but you don’t wanna work for it.”
“Yeah,” you smile, unable to disagree as you feel his bulge rut against your clothed cunt.
You succumb to your basic instincts as you slot your lips against his. Your public display is no doubt catching the attention of the other patrons, but you don’t care to be considerate anymore. You moan as his tongue finds yours and licks invasively. The bottom of your dress is almost around your waist, but you pull away before everyone can see your ass or the racy black though you’d opted to wear. You keen as you see your lips connected by a string of spit, but it breaks as he helps pull your dress back in place to preserve what’s left of your modesty.
“I wasn’t put on this planet to work hard, Toji,” you start. “I’m here to be gorgeous and find a man to do it for me.” you explain. He laughs loudly, at that, cupping your face to kiss you again. It’s softer, though, almost leaving you more breathless than the first.
“You are gorgeous, Baby, you ain’t wrong about that.” he affirms. “I wanna take you out again. I want to spoil you and treat you like a man never has before. Because I can give you exactly what you’re looking for.”
You smile, leaning in to kiss him again. Keeping control of yourself is a gargantuan task, he’s riled you up enough to want to jump him right here in front of everyone. But you manage to stop yourself from getting arrested for indecent exposure as you come back down to earth.
He is exactly what you’ve wanted your whole life.
A rich man to take care of you. A man to work hard and pay the bills while you do what you want whenever you want forever. It’s a dream. It’s got to be a dream. You’ve just met, it’s your first day. You’re sure he’s just telling you what you want to hear to get you into bed.
It’s a poisoned apple, so perfect and shiny. So red and juicy. You think it might just be worth the risk of a tragic ending.
“What’s the catch, Toji?” you wonder.
“None.” he assures you, though you still aren’t convinced. “I like you, Baby. Very much. I like that attitude of yours… I love how beautiful you are… Those lips of yours have got me achin’ over here.” he smirks.
“I don’t trust ya.” you admit, unable to contain your laughter. “Think it’s your eyes, very villainous. Same with this,” you tell him, gently caressing his scar with your thumb. “There’s just somethin’ not right about you. Practically proposin’ to me over here.”
He chuckles again but shakes his head. “Awe you’d be a perfect little wife f’me…” he says dreamily, his thumbs rubbing circles into your rear as he talks. “I’m just sayin’, I’d love to keep taking you out. I want to get to know you more. But ‘m just lettin’ you know that I can provide the life you want. Want it to be real though. If you aren’t feelin’ me or I’m not feelin’ you, we can just be friends. Yeah?”
“Oh you’re not feelin’ me now?” you ask, your voice playful and laced with laughter as he continues to tease and tickle your skin.
“I’m sure about you, but wouldn’t hurt to get to know you more. Especially for Megumi’s sake.” he reminds you. How could you forget that’s he’s a certified dilf? “That’s what dating’s for. The moment I set eyes on you, I knew I wanted to fuck. The dates are to find out if we’re gonna do anything other than that.”
“You just assumed we were gonna fuck tonight? ‘Cause you bought me some presents and said I’m gorgeous?”
“No, we could have just had some drinks and talked all night and I’d walk you home. But instead, you’re dry humping my hard-on and I can feel how wet you are.” he tells you, his voice and his stare are so serious it almost scares you. Not enough to stop, though. Not enough to push him away as he pulls you closer so that he can whisper in your ear. “So what I think is gonna happen, is that we’re gonna go to my office and fuck each other stupid over my desk. We can right now, or we can have a few drinks and keep talkin’ first.”
“I—”
“Mmm, you can come back to my place after we’re done so we can fuck again in the morning, or I can walk you home and we can plan our next date.” he continues, the confidence he’s exuding makes your heart race.
The depth of his voice has you soaking your panties more than you had thought possible, you can barely hear yourself think as you digest everything he’s said. But you can’t stop waiting with bated breath to hear what he’ll say next. It’s hypnotising, it’s addicting. Hearing that low, deep, drawl tell you exactly how he thinks the night will play out.
“Or maybe I’m wrong. Would you rather just sit and talk all night? I’ll be a perfect gentleman and get you home safe.” he smirks. “If I’ve offended you though, Baby… let me know. I’d be happy to walk you home and pretend none of this ever happened.”
“… Office. Now.” you tell him. He smirks and lifts you up as he stands, setting you down beside him. It dawns on you again how much taller he is than you, you’d been taller than him this whole time, you’d forgotten what a titan of a man he is. “Bring the bottle, too. I’ll stop at yours tonight if you can actually make me cum.” you tell him, picking up your glass as you sashay away from him in search of the office.
He picks up the bottle of champagne as well as his own glass before pulling a member of his staff to warn him that he is not to be disturbed for the rest of the evening.
His muscular presence is unmistakable as he catches up to you, eager to show you the way to his office. He’s right, you love the power that comes along with him. His large frame and the way everyone genuinely respects, and maybe even fears him, makes you giddy. You feel safe and secure by his side, and there’s nothing you’ve ever wanted more.
The office space is lavish, yet dark. The only light is bleeding in from the neon painting the dance floor as it bleeds in between the blinds. You look around despite seeing very little, your attention only breaking at the sound of the door locking.
“Still gonna fuck me here?” you ask, tapping your press on nails against the hardwood desk. He nods, closing the distance between you both without breaking eye contacting.
You gasp as he knocks everything from the desk, papers fly and objects clatter before you’re seamlessly lifted onto the desk. His lips attach to your skin in a frenzy of kisses as he places himself between your thighs, you hook your legs onto his hips as you allow yourself to truly sink into the pleasure of being with him.
He takes a firm grasp of your jaw as he makes out with you messily, tongues tangle and entwine all while you hum into his mouth. You panic and grab at the edge of the desk as he pulls you away from it, forcing you to stand up once again. Your knees almost knock together as he whispers in your ear.
“Turn around.”
You’re given barely enough room to breathe but manage to do as he asks. His lips find the nape of your neck before pearly white teeth meet the zipper of your dress. You can hardly believe what you’re seeing as he drops to his knees and yanks at the black material clinging to your body for dear life. You help him, though, more eager than ever to see what he’s capable of.
“Bend over for me.” he orders, spanking you for good measure.
Deft fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and pull down slowly. You shudder as the cold air hits your sodden flesh, all the while you’re none the wiser to his beguiled expression as he admires your most intimate skin.
He massages your ass as he spreads you open, moaning unashamedly as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. He’s mesmerised by the way your pretty pearl throbs with desperation, a desire to be played with.
“Fuck!” you gasp, feeling him bury his face between your folds from behind and go to town on your cunt. The way he’s slurps and devours your slippery slick makes you flush with heat. It’s humiliating but you’re too stimulated to feel it. He’s no better, leaking in his underwear like he hasn’t gotten laid in a lifetime.
You manage to reach behind you and lace your fingers through his hair as he wraps his lips around your clit, suckling like his life depends on it. Your legs are ready to give way when he licks along your slit to find your hole, tongue fucking you passionately before he replaces the sensation with two fingers.
“Ah! G-God, Toji! T-There! Right there!” you all but scream as he digs deeper and deeper to find the squishy spot buried in your cunt.
Without halting, he forces you to lift a leg on the desk to help him discover an entirely new angle. The combination of his tongue and fingers has you building up to fast approaching peak. Skin wrapped around your knuckles turns taut as you grip for dear life onto the lip of the desk, eyes cross each other as you begin your free fall into pleasure.
His deliverance doesn’t cease as he aims to wring the life out of your high and help you experience every ounce of heaven you can attain through him. You moan boisterously, screaming his name like a mantra and more thankful than ever that your ecstasy is muted in comparison to the music.
“Oh my God.” you breathe, starting to come down from the high. You feel him softly kiss your clit before littering your ass in kisses, rising slowly to angle your face backward enough to kiss you sloppily. “No one’s ever made me cum that hard before.” you confess, earning yourself another kiss from him.
His slick coated fingers find their way into your mouth and you accept it gratefully, humming around his digits as he undoes his belt and zipper with one hand. There’s a low rumble lingering in his breathing, hard breaths exposing a primal growl as he finally frees himself.
“And I’m not even done with you yet.” he explains.
He smears his dripping cockhead across your skin, the heavy mushroom tip immediately gives you a sense of foreboding as you wonder how he will possibly fit that inside of your tiny cunt.
“Already made you cum, so you’re staying the night at mine. Right?” he asks, slowly prodding at your entrance. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that you can answer, but his eyes fixate on the way your pussy is both trying to suck him in and keep him at bay. “I wanna cum inside, sweetheart. Are ya gonna let daddy fill you up?”
You find yourself nodding without really hearing him. And with that, he pushes inside of you with patience and care. It’s a beautiful sight to see how your pussy splits open to accommodate him, it’s almost enough to make him blow his load.
“You’re shakin’, darlin’.” he tells you, smoothing over your skin as he tries to soothe you. “Have you never been fucked properly, hm? Or is daddy’s cock too big for ya?”
“B-Both.” you admit, his low chuckle makes you clench around him like he belongs inside of you. You’ll never get fucked like this again, you’re sure of it. You just moved here, how did you get so lucky?
“Don’t usually fuck with older guys, huh?”
“S-Sometimes,” you respond. He yanks your body upright so that your back is flush against his chest. You tilt your head away from him so that he can kiss your neck, your fingertips rest uselessly on the desk as you try to keep yourself stable. “H-Harder. Daddy harder.” you request.
He fucks into you relentlessly, spurred on by the sounds of gorgeous moans falling from between your lips. You’re clenching around him again like a vice, he’s sure you’re close yet again. And he’s eager to feel how hard you’ll choke his cock when you finish around him.
He lifts your leg up, holding it in his hooked arm as he rails you mercilessly. You’re louder, now, encouraging him to fuck you harder and harder. Deeper and fucking deeper. It’s brutal. You don’t think your heart has ever beat so fast and you sure as shit haven’t been pounded like this in your entire life.
“Your cunt is so wet. Kitty’s fuckin’ purring for me.” he tells you, the heat of embarrassment surges through you once more. You think you might actually pass out if something doesn’t give. But instead of slowing down, he’s only spurred on to toy with you more.
He quickly swipes three fingers over your swollen clit. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder as you succumb to the pleasure pulsing through you yet again.
“Want you to make a mess for me, Baby.” he tells you, his voice beginning to break and waver as he climbs a mountain of his own bliss. “Want you to let go and cum with me, I’m gonna breed this little pussy and make you cum all over me. Go on, princess. Cum.”
You don’t even know what he’s talking about until you’re overcome with an urge to piss.
“T-Toji!” you panic. You want to tell him to stop as you look down, not wanting to pee all over your dress before you leave. But instead, you’re enraptured by the sight of your stomach. “Fuck, Toji, I s-see you.” you tell him.
He rests his chin in the crook of your neck, enthralled by the vision of his cock making your stomach bulge.
“Would you look at that? No wonder you’re gonna squirt for me. C’mon, Baby. Show me how a good girl cums for daddy,” he presses down on your stomach as he finishes speaking, and it’s enough to make you unravel.
The urge to pee subsides as your cunt begins to gush clear liquid like a waterfall. You had no idea you were capable of squirting or that it was even real. You’d always figured it was just a porn thing.
But here you are, doing it without even trying with him.
Because of him.
“Ohhhh there she is,” he coos, rubbing his fingers over your clit again to ride out your orgasm and make an even bigger mess than you were already. “Pretty pussy, daddy’s pretty pussy.” he groans, fucking you harder to get himself off.
He squeezes every inch of your body, using you like a fucktoy in a bid to chase his own high. “’m cummin’ fuck.” he grunts, thrusts becoming stronger as he fucks his cum deep into your womb. You both pant as he collapses forwards on top of you, your body sandwiched between his and the desk.
And still, he continues to rut his hips deeply into you, making sure every last drop is milked into your gorgeous cunt.
His new addiction.
He kisses your skin sweetly in contrast to the brutal fucking you’ve just received. You can’t help but look at him with love in your eyes, though, thankful that you’ve ever gotten to experience how truly incredible sex could be.
You want him again.
You want him bad.
You want him forever.
He moves away from you, stumbling backwards as he pulls his trousers back up, buckling his belt and fastening his zipper. He smirks as he watches you struggle to stand upright, not wanting his cum to dribble down your legs as you find your panties and put your dress back on.
You turn around slowly, watching as he gets closer to you and sits you down on the desk.
“Wanna see,” he tells you, forcing your legs apart until your pussy opens. He keeps you on the edge of the desk so he can watch his cum ooze out and drip down on the floor.
There’s so much, thick, copious amounts of cream that are bound to have gotten you pregnant if you weren’t on birth control. It’s potent and warm and felt like an injection of love when you felt it pumping inside of you. And now it’s slipping away, becoming a stain on the floor of his office.
As less trickles out of you, he finds your dress and helps you into it.
“You’re not getting’ these back.” he smirks as he twirls your panties on his finger before pocketing them. “Daddy’s little keepsake, yeah?”
You bite your lip and nod, standing back on the ground and avoiding the splotches of cum decorating the floor and the paperwork he’d discarded earlier. You reach up to cup his face with one hand, kissing him passionately before pulling away.
“Then you better buy me some more.” you whisper.
“Whatever you want.” he winks. “We’re doing that again when you come over, but let’s finish the champagne first.”
You can definitely think of worse ways to spend Valentine's Day.
© 2024 rinhaler
509 notes · View notes
hysteria-things · 8 days
Note
COULD U POSSIBLY MAKE A MATT FIC BASED OFF OF THIS TIKTOK OR SONG (YOU CAN DECIDE IF U WANT IT TO BE SMUT OR NOT IF U DO MAKE ONE) https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8wp5H2t/
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🔗
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MY OH MY
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get into a pickle when you get poured on, but don’t worry… somebody comes to save you.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing, making out, p in v, ass grabbing, faux sympathy, cum eating (🙈)
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,400
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: meant to post earlier but tumblr decided to close the draft without saving as i was proofreading/editing🤣
hope you enjoy @sluttyformatt :)
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rain trickles down your hair to your shoes; workout clothes soaked.
you wanted to go on a late-night walk, then suddenly it started pouring out of nowhere. currently, you’re standing under a roof edge, arms crossed while you wait for your ride.
your brother isn’t around to pick you up, so your last resort was his best friend. he’s your brother’s age, who’s two years older than you. he’s known him ever since high school, yet your mother always said matt was a bad influence.
although, you do see where she’s coming from. matt was the type to always get in trouble in school, and overall he’s just a big grump. he’s only been nice to you, your brother, and of course his siblings.
headlights glow down the street, getting closer until the minivan stops in front of you. you quickly head over to it, open the door, and get in on the passenger’s side. “hi matty!” you beam. “thank you so much for picking me up. i didn’t know it was going to rain.”
he looks at you, wearing the leather jacket he’s had for as long as you can remember.
he truly doesn’t understand how you can be so happy no matter what, even if you are drenched in water. “you should’ve checked the weather before you left.” he mumbles, putting the car in drive.
“well, it was sunny all day. i didn’t expect rain. it’s okay, though. it’s like a surprise shower.” you smile, fastening the seatbelt.
“uh oh,” you say, looking through your fanny pack that you have strapped to your stomach.
he sighs, still focusing on the road. “what is it now?”
“i may or may not have left my keys home and locked myself out. nobody’s home.” you lick your teeth. “can i come to your place until my brother picks me up? pretty please, matty?”
“fine.” he inhales sharply. “and stop calling me matty.”
it’s silent as you two sit on the couch. your brother texted you saying he’ll let you know when he’s on his way, but god knows how long that’ll be. (despite it being almost midnight)
matt notices a shiver, taking his eyes off of his phone to look. your hands rub up and down your arms trying to warm up, but the chattering of your teeth indicates that it isn’t helping. “go to my room and grab one of my hoodies and pajama pants. they should be in my dresser.” he says coolly.
you smile. “it’s okay, i can wait. i’m fine.”
“put them on.” he demands. “you’re soaking wet and freezing.”
staring at him, he keeps staring back because of your silence. “go.”
you sigh like a child, getting up from the couch and walking down the hallway into his bedroom.
matt’s clothes are far too big on you, but you do feel warmer and more comfortable. his pants hang low just past your waistline. the hoodie on the other hand is long, causing the sleeves to give you sweater paws.
you sit on the chair he has in the corner, scrolling on your phone. matt can’t help but stand at the doorway, watching you.
not in a creepy way, but the fact you’re wearing his clothes has his dick reacting from the view. the way it’s too big for your body turns him to fuck on.
he cannot feel this way toward you. your his best friend’s sister, for god’s sake. but he can’t help it.
“feel better?”
you get startled by his voice. “yes, thank you.”
“told you so,” he grumbles.
rolling your eyes playfully, you stand up. “i didn’t mean to linger in here. i got distracted.”
as you start to walk by him, he grabs onto your shoulders to stop you. your breath hitches at the feeling of his rings; the way they drag down your arm makes you subconsciously clench your thighs together.
his cologne floods your nostrils, and the way he’s looking at you is different now.
he’s always been a grumpy kid and had a resting bitch face, but now he’s looking at you seductively and with need.
the hand that was on your arm now cups the front of your neck. there’s no pressure, but the fingers with no rings go over your bottom lip.
he sighs sympathetically. “it sucks that you’re off limits. i would so fuck you right now.”
your eyebrows raise high from the sudden courage he had to just blurt that out. however, you smirk.
“if you kiss me.” you shrug. “i might let it happen.”
he groans, leaning down to smash his lips on yours.
still intact, you grab his jacket and pull him in closer, your bodies moving at the same rhythm.
he starts to push you back to where the chair is, turning you 180° so he’s the one sitting in it while you straddle his lap.
your hips grind, rubbing just the right spot on not only you but him also. you smile into the kiss when you feel him hardening beneath you.
tugging at the pants you're wearing, he pulls away. “take these off.”
you shimmy them down your legs as he unbuckles his belt and pulls his bottoms down below his thighs. he grabs your hips to hover you over him, but stops and teases the tip.
you wiggle to get some friction as he smirks. “manners.”
“please.” you whine. “please let me ride your cock. i’m so fucking wet for you.”
matt sinks you slowly onto him, your walls immediately stretching to his size. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.”
you mumble something into his chest, bouncing uncontrollably on his dick. your sweater paws ball up on his biceps. your ass slaps repeatedly on his skin, the sound echoing off the walls.
he tuts, grabbing your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. “why so quiet?”
“stop.” you mewl, nuzzling your face even deeper into his body. your face is hot from embarrassment.
“is somebody embarrassed to be fucking her brother’s best friend? it looks like ms. goody-two-shoes is a little naughty.” he says lowly into your ear, causing you to start whimpering and going even faster.
it doesn’t take long for his tip to brush against the right spot “oh, fuck.” you moan, legs shaking at his sides.
“better not get this chair dirty, otherwise i’ll make you clean it,” he warns, knowing that you can’t control your orgasm.
pouting, you clench hard. of course, your release runs down his thighs and onto the seat. your eyes are glassed over while you look at him, who’s shaking his head. “you’re making a mess.”
somehow so quickly, he lifts you off of him and onto the floor. now, he’s behind you, and your cheek leans against the chair.
he again nudges at your entrance, this time you buck your hips back but he grips them tight. “clean up your mess first.”
he doesn’t ask. he orders while pushing your head down further into the cushion.
obeying, you flick your tongue onto your arousal. normally, you’d find this gross, but you’re so wet and turned on that you’ll listen to whatever he says. his presence feels like you are under a spell.
a sweet and salty taste fall on your tongue, following his instructions to a t.
a hum of approval is heard behind you. he spreads your legs wider, slamming into you with no warning.
you moan loudly, arching as much as you can in this position. “m-matt! shit, matt!” you yelp.
he grunts, taking in how well your pussy feels engulfing him.
tears threaten to spill from your eyes once they roll back, moaning loud and clear when your g-spot gets abused already.
strings of curses leave your lips, the way he’s balls deep inside of you right now have you quiver a lot. “you feel—” you pause, licking your lips and shutting your eyes tight. “so good. like… holy fucking god.”
he chuckles, placing his hand on your shoulder to drill into you harder. before you even know that it’s happening, you cum for the second time, shaking uncontrollably from the pleasure.
a deep breath later, matt makes sure to pull out and paint your back white.
“you can keep the clothes.” he says, jiggling your ass to play with it. “so you can wear them the next time i fuck you.”
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