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#if i had gotten all my feelings out of the way after the book came out i wouldnt be like this months later
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Percy Jackson x Fem! Athena! Reader who lives opposite him in new york, and the two end up in the same school. Originally, because they were younger, reader hated Percy because he was a boy (duh) and he annoyed her and called her names, with these things follow her to camp and such. Years later, after maturing, the pair slowly share a close connection with reader realizing through five seperate occasions that she does, possibly, like the boy next door.
The five occasions are honestly up to you! (but for example it could be when reader found Percy taking care of a younger camper who had had a nightmare, or when the pair were on the train to school and, reader running a bit behind, Percy reveals that he actually has both readers fav breakfast and the days books already packed for her.
“ i should hate you ”
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percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader 🌊
y/n finds herself feeling a little too much for the most annoying son of poseidon
this is a little off from the books in an attempt to avoid too much percabeth, also this is really long but it was really fun to write. omg and hunger games reference
⚠️ language
⋆。˚ 𓇼 𓆝⋆。˚
nulla
When y/n first arrived at camp the first person she spotted filled her with rage. Perseus Jackson.
“No way Jose!” he called, walking over to her.
She crossed her arms. His dirty clothes and static hair told her that he had just gotten back from training, “how are you here? Of all places, why are you here?”
“Well, Tinky Winky, glad to see you, too.”
Tinky Winky. You dress up as a teletubbie one time in 2nd grade and suddenly you're Tinky Winky for the rest of your life, “I’m gonna head to my cabin. If I see you again, I might throw up on you.”
As she walked away, she heard him yell, “I’m the son of Poseidon, big three, you’ll be seeing a lot of me, babe!” She hated the way her stomach flipped at the name, what right did he have to call her babe?
I
She walked out of her cabin after a month of somehow successfully avoiding speaking to the boy, despite how close her sister was to him. She had free time, so she decided she would walk by the dock to get some fresh air.
She was sitting on the edge, looking at the water when she felt a particularly strong gust of wind. She tried to stand up, but slipped off the edge, falling into the lake. She flailed her arms, trying to maintain some buoyancy. She was never a good swimmer, which was apparent as she felt her lungs begin to fill with liquid as she tried to scream.
Suddenly, she was pulled back to the dock. She tried to catch her brush, coughing up buckets.
“Y/N, y/n, are you okay?” She blinked the water out of her eyes trying to make out the face. All she could see was dark hair and sickeningly green eyes.
“Percy?” She breathed out quietly.
He desperately nodded, “yeah, how long were you under there?”
“Maybe like,” she thought for a second, “20 seconds?”
He helped her up, holding onto her hand, although she urgently pulled it away, “can you breathe fine and everything?”
She nodded, “I’m fine, I’m just gonna go dry off.” She began walking off before stopping and turning back around towards him, “thanks, Percy.”
II
She ran through the woods during a game of capture the flag while clutching a dagger in one hand. She came to a sudden stop as she heard quiet voices. She hid behind a tree bur peeked over to try and see who it was.
There she saw Percy kneeling on the ground next to a younger camper.
“Don’t worry about them,” he mentioned, “the Ares kids are all bark no bite. I would know,” he joked, offering a kind smile.
She noticed the tears coming out of the child’s eyes, “are you sure, because they were saying how-”
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, “they talk to you like that again, you can tell me and I’ll flood their cabin.”
The kid chuckled, causing a grin to find its way to y/n’s face as she watched the scene unfold.
“Now,” Percy stood up and patted the child’s shoulder, “go get that flag.”
The younger boy nodded before running off once again.
Percy brushed off his clothes, suddenly locking eyes with the daughter of Athena, “hey, Alfalfa.”
She tilted her head in confusion, “what?”
He laughed, “your hair.”
She sighed, brushing her fingers through the top of her hair to make sure there were no floating strands, “better, wiseass?”
He smirked, reaching forward and moving a piece of hair behind her ear, “there.”
She felt blood rush to her face, “I’ve gotta go,” she muttered as she ran off. She heard a laugh from behind her, but she carried on, trying not to think of him anymore.
III
She figured the fates must hate her, after all, she was stuck on a quest with the person she hated most. Or that’s what she wanted to say at least. She hated Percy Jackson. She had known him her whole life, and all he had been ws obnoxious.
“I’m as happy with this as you are, y/n,” he interrupted her thoughts as he spoke, “but we should at least talk.”
“About what?” She coldly answered, not even looking at him.
He thought briefly, “what’s your favorite color?”
“Oh, now you’ve gone too far,” she joked.
He smiled in return, “seriously, I’ve known you forever, what is it?”
“F/c,” she answered, glancing over at him.
“See, I never would’ve known that.”
“What’s yours?”
“Blue,” he replied, “reminds me of the ocean.”
“Conceited much?”
“What? That’s not-”
“Whatever you say, fish boy.”
He shook his head, “that’s really creative, wow.” He stopped in his steps in front of a convenience store, “I’m gonna go grab a snack.”
“Percy, there’s more important things right now than your stomach.”
“Right, yeah, whatever,” he brushed her off as he walked into the store.
She groaned, “that idiot.” She nervously looked around, sure she was a demigod, but she was still a teenage girl alone in a city. She felt that those five minutes went on for ages before Percy came back out.
“Here,” he spoke as he handed her a bag.
“What’s this?” She asked, opening the bag to find a package of chips.
“You used to bring a bag of those everyday in middle school,” he added while opening his own chips.
She smiled at how he remembered, “I’m surprised you even noticed.”
“You're hard to miss.”
IV
She wanted to scream looking in the mirror. Purple. Her hair was purple. She couldn't figure out what happened, she used the same shampoo and conditioner as always. She rushed to find her shampoo bottle and open it up. As she took off the cap, she was met with the burning smell of hair dye. She cursed herself for not realizing it before.
She stepped out of the bathroom to find only Annabeth and Percy discussing something while sitting on the former’s bed. They looked at her, surprised.
“Really living up to that Tinky Winky name, huh?”
“Shut up, Jackson!”
Her sister ran to her side, “what happened?”
“I don't know, I washed my hair and- and-”
“The Stolls,” Percy commented, walking over to her.
“Oh my gods,” she mumbled, “why- why-”
“They’re morons, that’s why,” Annabeth said.
Y/N breathed heavily as she tried to stop herself from crying. After all, it was her hair, what did her hair matter? It’s not like she was Aphrodite’s daughter. But, she hated to admit how much it meant to her.
Percy bit his lip, “I’ll be right back,” he mentioned as he made his way out og the cabin.
Soon after, she heard yelling from outside. Her and her sister looked out the window to see what the ordeal was.
“-It’s temporary, it’s not like it's a big deal,” Travis Stoll was defending.
“There is a girl in there crying because of you two!” She was confused why Percy was so angered by this.
“It’s funny-”
“It’s not funny, you ass, she did nothing, why would you do some shit like that to her?”
Chiron suddenly rushed to the scene, standing between the two boys, “what is going on here?”
“Percy’s mad because we dyed his girlfriend’s hair purple.”
Oh, Oh. She was made more confused by the way her heartbeat quickened at being called his girlfriend. She didn't care, he was Percy. She didn't care. She didn't care.
V
To say she was panicked would be an understatement. Percy and Annabeth had been sent on a quest, where only Annabeth returned in tears. As far as she said, Percy wasn't dead, he was missing. They had been fighting a group of monsters, when she turned around and Percy was gone.
Y/N sat at breakfast, unable to eat. She poked at her food, but her stomach was so nauseous, she could barely look at the food. That was until she heard gasps and cheers. She turned around to find Perseus Jackson walking, looking disheveled.
She quickly stood up and ran over to her, wrapping him a hug. He was taken aback but enclosed his arms around her waist.
She deeply breathed, pulling away from him. Her hands held onto his face like she was trying to make sure he was real, “I thought you were fucking dead,” she cried.
“I’m pretty glad I’m not.”
She giggled, though tears still streamed down her face. She stayed looking at him, just taking in every feature of his face, every scar, every color in his eyes, and the pink of his lips. She soon enough clashed her lips with his. She didn't care that she knew all of his friends were watching, all she could care about was that he was alive. She did kinda care about the fact that he smelled like raw tuna, but she could look past that for right now.
They separated for air, but their foreheads rested against one another, letting them stare into each other’s eyes.
“You're a pretty good kisser, Tinky Winky.”
“Thanks. You could do better, Spongebob.”
He chuckled, “wanna try again?”
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ghostfacd · 4 months
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KISS AND MAKE UP ; CORIOLANUS SNOW
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summary: when coriolanus and you argue over the sudden closeness between him and lucy gray, all hell breaks loose. but he’s reminded that in the end, it’s you who he chooses, and it’s you that will stay.
warnings: reader and coryo have a toxic relationship (are we surprised?), mentions of cheating (no actual cheating involved), fighting and yelling, some ooc!coryo, descriptions may be inaccurate ‘cause i read the book like 2 years ago 😭
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“I hate you!” You scream, thrashing in Coriolanus’s threshold. “Let go! Let go!”
“Oh stop making a scene, will you?” He growls out, not appreciating your lack of awareness of the eyes that were currently watching. “She’s fine, she’s fine.” He reassures the staring orbs of eyes, “stop it now, Y/N.”
His tone makes you shiver, and you stop trying to kick yourself out of his grip. He smiles contently at this, finally letting you go, but not before shoving his hands into yours. “See, wasn’t that easy?”
“Oh fuck you.” You say, but both you and Coriolanus know that you’ll be back at square one by tonight, kissing and telling him that you love him.
“Thought I'd have to drag you away and shut you up." He mutters, clearly unimpressed with the way you acted earlier. “Maybe get your shit together, L/N.”
“I would if you’d just act like a decent boyfriend for once!” You say, throwing your arms out in the air. “You know what? I don’t care; I don’t care what you do—go get close to your tribute! Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!”
You yank your arm away from his, stomping inside of the Academy with a scowl plastered on your face. Sejanus is only a few steps behind the two of you, and was going to open his mouth to say something when Coriolanus places his index finger in front of him.
“Don’t.” The boy says. “She’s just being dramatic.” He fixes his uniform, a lavish shade of red, as it was crinkled from the way you had tried to escape his hold earlier.
The next time he sees Lucy Gray, he thinks of your little upset pout and face, your yelling ringing in his ear.
Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!
“Are you alright?” Lucy Gray was cautious around Coriolanus, he was unpredictable, and scarily cunning. She had no idea what was even one of the million thoughts that ran through his mind
“I’m.. fine.” Coriolanus says, giving her a meek smile that almost makes her feel sick. Although she had to admit he was fairly handsome and she had somewhat fell for his charm and face, he still scared her regardless.
“Coryo.” Your voice makes Lucy Gray and Coriolanus both look up. You look like a looming dark figure compared to her, towering over. “We should talk later.”
And Lucy Gray watches as Coriolanus’s once emotionless face turns into a sly grin. He nods, not saying much, which was something Lucy Gray had came to learned these past few days after he had first met and given her a rose.
“Snow always falls on top.” Coriolanus whispers underneath his breath, and Lucy Gray doesn’t question it, only continuing what they had been doing earlier.
When the two of you were walking out of the Academy, you placed your hand in Coriolanus’s. It had gotten colder than it had in the morning, and you were freezing under your uniform.
He carefully caresses your hand, looking up to watch as snow slowly fell from the sky.
“So, you’re gonna tell me what you wanted to earlier?” He asks, still looking at the sky.
“I’m sorry Coryo,” you reply meekly, feeling small under his frame. “For causing a scene earlier. I was upset.”
“Upset at me getting close to Lucy Gray?” He questions, now finally glancing down at you.
“Yes! But you can’t blame me Coryo, you don’t see me getting close with my tribute.”
Coriolanus rolls his eyes, the blue orbs bore into yours. “What did I tell you? I would never cheat on you, silly girl. I’m not a monster.”
If only he knew.
You look down, embarrassed that you two were even having this conversation in the first place.
“I know you wouldn’t, which is why I’m apologizing in the first place.”
The two of you stop abruptly, your eyes reaching his despite the obvious height difference.
“I love you, okay?” Coriolanus breathes out, you can even see his breath, the temperature dropping even lower than it was before.
And although you don’t know the extent to which exactly the words coming out of his mouth are even true, you still go on your tippy toes, shivering as you give your boyfriend a kiss on the lips.
“There’s my smiling girl,” he says as he watches your eyes twinkle. “Now let’s go, I have some ideas of ways to warm you up.”
That night, snow truly, did fall on top.
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shellshocklove · 30 days
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just crazy love | joel miller
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pairing/AU: 70s!pornstar!joel miller x inexperienced!female reader
summary: joel had hurt you badly, but can you forgive him?
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), mentions and drinking of alcohol, misogyny (bc of the times™), readers uncle is a character in this but his name is not mentioned and there's no description of looks, angst, swearing, use of pet names, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex (don't do it!!), praise kink, some size kink (pornstar!joel has a big dick), soft!dom joel, no use of y/n
a/n: this is part three and the last part to my little 70s!pornstar!joel mini-series. i'm overwhelmed by the love i got on the previous part. i honestly thought everyone had forgotten about the orginal one shot as it had been so long 💀 i really appreciate all of you who's left a comment, reply or sent me an ask! makes my heart all mushy 🥺 thank you to @dustydaddyyy for all the help and for reading through it! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
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On the way home from set, Joel started to think he’d fucked up.
You were so quiet, quieter than you usually were, and it made him worried. After wrapping his scene with Cheryl, he’d immediately looked for you, but your place in the corner where you’d stood watching was empty. He’d noticed you slip out during his scene but thought nothing of it as he knew being on set wasn’t your favorite, but then you came back, and Joel had found it hard to conceal his happiness behind his acting.
His head had been filled with memories and fantasies, memories and fantasies of you. The look you’d get in your eyes when he kissed you, blown out and wide. The feel of your soft hand wrapped around him this morning, the feel of your wet pussy tight around his cock. The sweet taste of you on his tongue. Shit. You were intoxicating. Joel couldn’t get you out of his head– and he didn’t want to try either. One look at you and those pretty eyes, and he came harder during a scene than he can remember ever doing – no need to fake any groans or moans.
It had been a long time since Joel had felt something so strongly for another woman. It must’ve been his high school sweetheart, he thought, that first teenage love, that all-consuming love that made that one special girl feel like the most important person in the world. And sure, after he moved to LA he’d dated, had a couple of girlfriends, but it never went anywhere, and his job, his job always made it complicated. Joel didn’t want complicated– so he stopped dating and got his fill of human touch through his work instead. It made his life easy, but then he’d seen you at the bar by yourself at Tommy’s club, and Joel didn’t want easy anymore.
Joel was a charming man; those southern manners had gotten him far in life, and especially with the ladies – it was no secret. And maybe he’d turned it up a few notches that night, he could admit that – hoping it would hook you in. He’d almost gone against his own rule. The rule he’d set for himself after one particularly nasty break-up a few years back: his rule of no sex outside work. He’d told himself he was protecting himself– protecting himself from getting involved into something complicated again, from getting hurt, or hurting someone he cared for. But then he’d met you, danced with you, talked to you, and Joel didn’t care about protecting himself anymore.
You weren’t someone to take home at the end of the night for a quick fuck. You were so sweet, and shy, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better. Learn what made you smile, what books you liked, what music you listened to, but also what noises you made when you fell apart. In that dark dingy club, Joel had realized how special you were.
Maybe it was stupid what he did? He could’ve gotten your number a number of ways, but the alcohol was talking and suddenly he was offering you a job before really thinking it through – but at least he had a reason to see you again.
You were a good assistant, and he appreciated the work you did for him, his life had gotten much easier after hiring you. But you were so professional, and what Joel wanted to do to you was unprofessional. You kept on top of his schedule, took his phone calls, scheduled meetings, predicted what he needed before he even knew he wanted it. You were nothing short of a great assistant, but the more he worked with you it was clear that there were things about his job you weren’t as comfortable with – and Joel couldn’t blame you. From the outside his job was unusual, and fucking on camera wasn’t for everybody, but Joel had come to know – it especially wasn’t for you.
A couple of months in, Joel had started to think you were a virgin. At first, he thought it was just your steadfast professionalism, but your reactions to what he considered normal things in his line of work, made him wonder. Not that there was anything wrong with you being a virgin, he just couldn’t understand how anyone could look at you and not want you to be theirs. And maybe it was wrong, but it turned him on a little too, something possessive deep inside loving the thought of you being his, and only his.
He wanted you, wanted you to be his, and the more he got to know you, the more he had to fight to hold back his growing feelings. Joel could hide behind his personality, hide behind the way he loved to flirt, loving the way you squirmed from his compliments– from his teasing. It was cute, it was so goddamn cute, but it didn’t fix the ache he had inside only you could sooth.
After Pismo Beach, Joel knew he was fucked. In the car on the way back to LA he’d had trouble watching anything except your face; the beautiful glimmering sea you drove along might as well have been an oily puddle for all he cared. Nothing was sweeter than watching you hum along to the Joni Mitchell cassette you played on repeat. Joni’s mezzo-soprano clung in his ear like a warning. Yes, help me, he was falling in love too fast, but damn if it didn’t feel good.
Now a different song filled the space of his car, as he drove you home. Crosby, Stills & Nash’s melodic guitar picking hummed a low tune, their three-part harmonies flowing from his car speakers.
“Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams, he worries.”
So yeah, Joel was worried. That rosy hue that had been tinting his world when he looked at you, had now faded to a drab dirty pink. You didn’t even look at him, and hadn’t muttered as much as a word to him since he found you in his trailer – where you’d been flicking through his papers from the meeting – after the scene ended.
“’s everythin’ alright?” Joel spoke across the silence that had grown between you.
You didn’t move your head from where it rested against the window; your face bathed in red from the sea of brake lights on the freeway. You weren’t moving much, so Joel allowed himself a good look at you. He watched the way your body curled in on itself in the seat, your fingers picking at your nailbeds – it made him pull his brows in a tight frown.
“Did he hear a goodbye, or even hello?”
With a brave hand he reached out to touch you, stroking the back of his hand against your cheek. “Hey,” he said, “did ya hear me, my sweet girl?”
“They are one person. They are two alone. They are three together. They are for each other.”
You pulled away from his touch immediately, shifting in your seat, and Joel felt his heart sink in his chest. “I’m fine,” you muttered, an unfamiliar sting in your voice.
A loud honk behind him released Joel from the shock from your tone, and his hand that had been previously dancing along your delicate skin, fell to the gear stick. Releasing the clutch slowly, Joel’s car rolled forward, following the slug traffic. You clearly weren’t fine.
“Stand by the stairway, you’ll see something certain to tell you, confusion has its cost.”
Joel let the music fill the space while you stayed quiet, a bubbling panic settling in his chest as the day played on repeat in his head. Everything had been so great earlier, until it wasn’t. He’d seen it in you after the meeting. Joel knew he should’ve said something, and he’d simmered with it all throughout the meeting, but Joel also knew better than to speak against Ronald in a setting like that.
Ronald was the best thing that had happened to Joel’s career. He was a big name in the porn industry, only managing the very best in the game. Eight years had passed since Ronald had discovered Joel.
It had been the summer of ‘67, his first year in LA already in the rear view. He’d come with a guitar case and a dream of making something of himself. Joel had chased that dream around in circles, and a year into it, he’d been free falling towards rock bottom. The gigs he’d dreamt would line up as soon as his feet touched the hot Californian sand, never came, and had it not been for Tommy, who’d made the move with him, he’d be homeless.
The whole exchange had been bizarre. Tommy was working as a busboy at a club on The Strip at the time, and as an employee, Tommy got a discount at the bar. Joel knew how to take advantage of his little brother’s benefits, and occupied a seat at the bar every weekend where he drank almost free booze, and flirted himself to a one night stand, or two, or three.
He’d sat by the bar one Saturday like usual when a man sat down in the seat next to him. Joel paid him no mind at first, continuing to smoke his cigarette and enjoy his whiskey. Then the man had started talking to him, asking if he knew this girl he’d slept with last week. He was about to deny ever having talked to someone matching this girl’s description, concerned that this man was a husband or a crazy ex-boyfriend of some sort, when the man started telling him that she dabbled in porn. Nothing crazy, just some nude photoshoots here and there, but she’d told him all about Joel and his impressive package.
Joel was about to tell the man to go fuck himself – the conversation twisting into something way too weird for Joel to navigate – when the man, Ronald, had offered to manage him. 
Sure, Joel was gifted, blessed, some might even say, but it had sounded too good to be true: getting paid the big bucks for just having sex? At the time, it had sounded like every man’s pipe dream but now, Joel owed Ronald everything.
If the movie deal with VCA went through, Joel’d owe him even more. It was a miracle he was this sought after in the first place. The top consumers of porn, Joel knew, and he supposed the entire porn industry knew, were predominantly men looking for big boobs and a willing woman, neither of which he was. But the tide was turning with the rise of the women’s movement, and Ronald had thrown his net into the pool of opportunity at the exact right moment.
The cynical part of Joel told him it paid his bills – he’d been so desperate in that club – but now, now he was living large as his popularity had continued to grow, and grow, and grow. He’d paved his path towards success, towards the success he’d dreamed about those eighth years ago. And sure, it felt good to be sought after and desired by women everywhere, but if he was being honest, the only woman he wanted to be desired by in this moment, was you.
He loved your gentle nature, that shy, almost timid, way you looked at him. No one had looked at him like that before. It felt so much more real, but it was like something was always holding you back, like you could never allow yourself to just be, always waiting for the other shoe to drop. Joel recognized that feeling, he did. He was from the south after all, and as far as his family was concerned, Joel was a sinner. That guilt they instilled in him– he’d sat with that a long time, years spent learning not to hate himself for the choices he’d made, unlearning years of shame. To not feel guilty about his desires, to embrace all that life had to offer with open arms, to dream, to eat until he was full and still have room for dessert.
“Love isn’t lying, it’s loose in a lady who lingers.”
Clearing his throat, Joel spoke again, “Somethin’ ‘s clearly wrong, sweet girl.”
“Please don’t call me that,” you sighed, voice strained like you were close to crying. The broken sound of you shattered something inside him.
“Saying she is lost, and choking on hello.”
Finally, the traffic picked up its pace, and Joel changed gear, gaining speed for the first time since you got on the freeway.  
“My sweet girl?” he asked, “I thought you liked that?”
Crosby, Stills & Nash sang their last lines, before the song faded into some disco song Joel had never heard before. It was loud and obnoxious, and your answer drowned in the beat. Joel’s hand was on the volume button in less than a second, turning it down.
“I didn’t,” you repeated in a whisper, “I don’t.”
You shifted your body closer to the door, and Joel knew he had to do something to make you feel better.
“How about…” he started, his hand shifting from the gear stick to land on the thick of your thigh, “I’ll drive us back to my place, and we’ll pick up where we left of this mornin’, huh? Would that make ya feel better?”
You crossed your leg over the other, making his hand slip from your thigh. “I’m too tired, Joel– it’s been a long day… and I didn’t get enough sleep,” you sighed, eyes closed and defeated.
“You sure? Swe–” Joel cut himself off before he could say it, the sweetness turning bitter on his tongue.
You didn’t answer, didn’t look at him, didn’t let him touch you. Something tightened in his chest. You were slipping away like sand through his fingers.
Maybe this wasn’t about the meeting after all?
“’s this about Cheryl?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady and calm, to conceal the panic bubbling in his throat. “’s just for work– was just actin’.”
You took a deep breath, and held it before you spoke, like you were practicing what to say before you said it. “It’s fine, Joel– I’m not your girlfriend.”
Not his girlfriend. Not his. Never his.
This time he couldn’t look at you, his hand gripping tightly around the steering wheel as he glimpsed your apartment complex down at the next turn.
“I thought–” Shit. A breathless chuckle devoid of any joy left him. He was speechless. 
Pulling into the parking lot next to your car, Joel didn’t know what to do. He watched you gather your things, while the heaviness in his chest grew.
Was it over before it had even begun?
“I’m…” you drew a shaky breath, “I’ll see you at work.”
And then you were gone, slipping out the door and leaving Joel alone in the swollen silence of your absence. His heart hammered in his chest, his breathing growing shallower as he watched you hurry across the parking lot in the rear-view mirror.
Move you fucking idiot– run after her, his brain told him, but he couldn’t move an inch. Shit. Shit. Shit. His chest tightened, and tightened, his fingers clawing at the rough fabric of his jeans as he started gasping for air. He’d wanted you for so long, and now you were gone. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? With shaky hands he managed to roll down the window, the fresh evening air filled his lungs as he tried his best to calm down.
Joel had fucked up.
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When Thursday rolled around, and Joel still hadn’t heard from you, he started to wonder if it was excessive to file a missing persons report. He’d tried to call you multiple times since Monday, but your phone was always off the hook. The hollow beeping of the busy signal doing nothing to calm the panic building in him since Monday.
He’d been so stupid, and he’d cursed himself for not seeing it sooner. Embarrassment suffocating him at the fact that it hadn’t settled in until Ronald had shown him the first rough cut of his chemistry test with Cheryl yesterday.
It had been Cheryl’s idea, the whole innocence thing. She’d pitched it to him after the meeting ended, telling him how excited she was for this opportunity, and how much she was looking forward to finally filming later. Joel had played along; he was at work after all – it was his job. So, he turned on the charm, tested the chemistry waters, and agreed. She was new to the industry and young, it made sense.
What didn’t make sense was what he’d called her. Sweet girl. He’d called Cheryl that multiple times without even realizing it – too lost in his thoughts of you, and how he wished it was you with your lips wrapped around him.
Joel was fucking stupid.
He’d convinced you to watch him get a blowjob from another woman right after you’d confessed to never having given head before. He knew you were inexperienced, but that had never mattered to him. Joel thought it was kinda nice to explore sex with you – to find out what you liked, and what you didn’t. It made it exciting again – it wasn’t just work. But hearing himself praise Cheryl for making him feel good was the last straw for him – he needed to apologize to you.
How he wished he’d been able to convince you to stay in bed that morning– to forget about the stupid fucking meeting. Finally, he’d had you. Finally, he could kiss you, and hold you, and make you feel good. The sweetness of you, of having had you, now bitter as he realized he’d probably never get that back.
Wiping a sweaty palm on his jeans, he tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for someone to buzz him into your apartment complex. He knew he shouldn’t be here, he could get you in trouble, but he needed to see you, to talk to you face to face.
“Hello?” a static voice croaked through the busted speakers of the rusting door buzzer.
“Pizza delivery,” Joel answered, and not a second later the door buzzed.
Trudging up the stairs the words he’d rehearsed played on a loop in his head: He know you probably don’t want to see him ever again, but he needed to apologize for what happened on Monday. He never meant to hurt you the way he did. He understands he was never your boyfriend, but that was what he wanted to be, and he’s sorry for the way he acted.
Stopping outside your apartment door he drew in a deep breath before he knocked. It felt like he stood there for hours waiting while nothing happened. That worry he’d felt for days now tugging harder at his neck. Joel knocked again, a little harder with the shout of your name, and added ‘It’s Joel’ for good measure. Again, nothing. When he repeated the action a third time, the door to the neighboring apartment flew open.
“She’s not home,” your neighbor told him, a hint of annoyance in her voice. She was dressed in a formless paisley patterned dress, hair thrown back in a low ponytail as she bounced a crying baby in her arms. When Joel’s eyes landed on the little girl in her arms, she told him, “You woke her up with all that banging.”
“I’m sorry ma’am,” he said earnestly, “I never meant to–” The baby screamed louder, face red from exertion.
“Sure, you didn’t,” she scoffed, with a roll of her eyes. She bounced her daughter, shifting her hold to hike her up over her shoulder, hand tap tapping at her back as she started to bounce her.
Sliding his hands into his jean pockets, Joel didn’t know what to do. Awkwardly he cleared his throat, tilting his head towards your door. “D’you–” Joel started, before your neighbor cut him off.
“No, but I saw her getting picked up by an older man about an hour ago.” Something about the judgement in her tone didn’t sit right with Joel.
He nodded at the information. Your uncle. Joel remembered now. Your uncle was coming to visit – taking you to dinner. What had you said on the phone again? An Italian place in Santa Monica?
Pulling his car keys from his pocket, he thanked your neighbor – making sure to apologize once again for the ruckus, before he hurried back down the stairs. He walked with long steps towards his car. The sun was setting on LA, turning the clouds and the city pink, but he paid the beautiful sight no mind, his eyes set on the Italian restaurant in Santa Monica where he knew Deborah worked.
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“Well would you look at what the cat dragged in.”
Joel turned his head towards the source of the familiar voice, only to find himself eye to eye with Deborah, and her raised eyebrow.
The air smelled like garlic and basil, and the restaurant hummed with conversation over the sound of Dean Martin. She was adorning the restaurant’s waiter uniform, a short red dress over a white collared shirt, while balancing a tower of dirty plates in her hands. He almost didn’t recognize her, she looked so different from how he was used to seeing her – all dolled up at Tommy’s club.
“Deborah,” he acknowledged with a nod, plastering a polite smile on his face.
“Don’t you ‘Deborah’ me, Miller,” she told him with a scoff, placing the tower of dishes down on an empty table before crossing her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at him, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m lookin’ for–”
“I bet you are,” Deborah replied, raising an unimpressed brow, “She ain’t here.”
Joel sighed, his face pulling into a defeated smile. “I know she’s with her uncle, Deborah. She told me she was takin’ him to an Italian restaurant in Santa Monica– As far as I’m concerned, that’s this place.”
Deborah shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel felt himself start to get annoyed. “Sorry, haven’t seen her in months.”
“Deb,” Joel let out through an exasperated sigh, a hand coming up to rub his eye, “Listen, I–... I just came to apologize, okay? I did somethin’ stupid that I shouldn’t have, and I need to apologize to her f’it.”
Deborah scoffed at Joel’s words, shaking her head with a bitter smile. “I bet you did something stupid... always the same thing with you Millers, hm? You always do first and think later.”
Confused, Deborah’s tone made Joel raise a single eyebrow, “Sure we still talkin’ about me?”
He hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what had gone on between him and Deborah, but he knew it hadn’t been very pretty. Tommy had just broken up Maria for the umpteenth time when they’d started going around. It was never going to last, Joel knew it the second he’d met Deb. Tommy always came back to Maria somehow, it didn’t matter how badly it had ended – like an endless figure eight they’d always meet again in the middle.
“Potato, potahto,” she said with a falsely sweet smile.
“Look, I ain’t my brother, okay? Never have been, never will be. Now I ain’t got a clue what went down between the two of you, and I’m damn near sure he deserves all the rage you’ve got to throw at ‘him, but it ain’t my business to sort out, so don’t go makin’ it my business...”
Deb tightened her arms over her chest, green eyes glaring at him, still, Joel could see a twinkle of curiosity in her eyes, too. “Apologize for what? You dock her pay or something?”
“No,” Joel let out with an annoyed breath.
“So what, you fired her?”
“No, Deb,” Joel said again, his voice heavy with exasperation.
Deborah quieted down for a second as she scrutinized him, her eyes boring into him. Then, her eyes cleared, and she shook her head.
“You got handsy, didn’t you?” she asked eventually, raising a questioning eyebrow. Joel couldn’t hide the guilt on his face, it told her all she needed to know. Her hands fell to her sides, “Jesus Christ, Miller... don’t you get laid enough at work?”
“Look, it ain’t like that,” he said, shaking his head as he felt his cheeks heat up, which only embarrassed him more.
Joel Miller doesn’t blush.
When Deb crossed her arms again, expression expectant as she looked silently at him, Joel sighed. “Deb… I really like her– and I know ya’ll are friends, and you want to protect her, but you gotta give me a fair shot, too... I never meant to hurt her, but I did, and if I have to spend the rest of my life apologizin’ to her every single day then that’s what I’mma do, but I promise you, you’re going to get sick of me real quick.”
There was a moment of silence in which the two of them looked at each other, before Deb raised a finger to point at Joel, taking a step forward.
“You listen here, Miller,” she said, wagging it under his nose, “Just this once, I’m going to be nice to you, for old times’ sake... but if I so much as hear a squeak from her you’re acting like a bastard, then you bet your ass I’m coming the hell after you.”
Joel nodded slowly, pulling in a deep breath through his nose as he pursed his lips.
“Anythin’ else?” he asked, raising a semi-impressed eyebrow, but Deborah only scoffed at his tone, poking him in the chest a final time.
“Yeah, tell your brother to stop calling,” she said, looking up at him, before nodding towards the back of the restaurant, “Unlike her, I don’t give second chances.”
“I’ll pass it on,” Joel said with a nod, but his voice was already absent as he finally spotted your familiar shape sitting in a booth at the very back of the restaurant.
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Twirling your fork absentmindedly through your spaghetti, you listened to your uncle yap on and on about the boys at the garage, and the car he’d just driven down here.
“It’s a beaut,” your uncle said through a mouthful of his own pasta, “1971 C3 model, nice dark green color Ralphie repainted. You know I’m not a convertible guy myself, can’t give up my truck, but I could see myself in one of them cars out here– apparently, it’s being sold to some high-profile actor or something.”
“Really?” you asked, trying to steer this never-ending one-sided conversation towards something somewhat interesting.
“Yeah, you know I don’t keep up with them celebrities, but I’m pretty sure I was talking to the client’s manager on the phone.”
You nodded, letting your fork fall to take a sip of your water. Your uncle hadn’t let you order yourself a glass of wine, the impression that you were still that innocent little girl you were back when you worked in his garage shop hard to shake. Your uncle, on the other hand, nursed his beer.
“That’s exciting,” you said with a small smile.
“Oh yeah, we’ve got this bet going at the shop about who it is–” Your uncle cut himself off as a broad figure approached your table. Looking up from your plate your breath hitched when you saw the man before you.
“Joel?” His name fell from your lips before you had time to think, your brows pulling together in confusion, before something tugged at the hurt in your heart. What was he doing here?
“Hi, sweetheart.” His face wore a quiet smile, eyes scanning over your form.
“W-what are you doing here?” you stuttered out, a panic racing in your chest while a lump formed in your throat. You couldn’t do this here, especially not in front of your uncle.
“I was in the neighborhood– saw y’all through the window and wanted to…” he trailed off, finally noticing your uncle. “Sorry, sir,” he reached out his hand to your uncle in a greeting, “Joel Miller, I’m–”
“Joel’s an actor,” you cut him off, “he starred in one of Mr. Cooper’s commercials a few months ago,” you lied.
You could see the kink in Joel brow at your lie, that quiet surprise he then played off with a charming smile. “Yeah, that’s right– a beer commercial, wasn’t it?” He looked at you with one eyebrow raised. Biting down on your lip you confirmed the lie with a nod.
“You do look a little familiar,” you uncle said, dragging the words out like he’s pulling them from his memory, “they show your commercial on the TV?”
“Oh, I haven’t been payin’ attention, but somethin’ like that,” Joel shrugged, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his tight Levis, his signature western belt buckle glinting in the low light. “Y’all mind if I join y’all for a drink?”
“Not at all,” your uncle smiled before you could say anything. Joel lifted his hand to get Deborah’s attention to order himself a beer, before he squeezed himself into the booth next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he got comfortable.
Having lost your appetite, you shifted your plate to the side to make room for Joel. It was a tight squeeze in the booth, the warmth of his body flooding your senses, the familiar scent of cigarettes and of his cologne making your heart ache.
How could you miss him, and hate him all at the same time?
Deborah served Joel his drink quickly, checking in at your table at the same time. Her eyes were focused on you as she cleared the table, asking you a silent ‘You okay?’ which you quickly nodded at. You knew she’d make up some crazy excuse to get you out of any situation, but you didn’t know if you could handle it if she did. It was easier to just suffer through. You’d suffered enough this past week; you could handle another hour.
The days since you’d seen Joel last had been spent between your bed and your couch. Unfocused eyes rolling over reruns as you let a blanket of numbness fall over you as the hours passed you by. You felt so tired, that kind of tired that sits in your stomach, heavy and pulling you down, every step a drag and every breath a strain. You’d isolated yourself for days, hadn’t showered for days, you were too tired to do it, and what did it matter anyway?
You’d tried to cry, but you couldn’t make the tears fall. You wanted the release, and to feel sorry for yourself, but nothing came. And what good would it do? Nothing. You were nothing. Nothing to yourself, nothing to Joel, and nothing to this lonely city. Just some small-town girl who thought she could change who she was, who she was always destined to be.
After two whole days on your couch, you had to get up, you had no choice. You wanted to cancel, to tell your uncle that you’d come down with the flu, but you knew he was driving all day, and you wouldn’t have a clue where to call to reach him. So, you’d sat up, ate a piece of bread, and had a shower. Every minute you tried to not think of Joel, tried to not think about the way he’d kissed you hello in your hallway, the way he'd held you through the night as you slept soundly in his arms, how his gaze had felt over your features on your way back from Pismo Beach – it was all too much. Every nice memory ruined by the way his voice had echoed ‘Sweet girl’ to Cheryl.
Sweet girl. Feels so good, my sweet girl– just like that. My sweet girl.
How stupid you’d felt hearing those words. You’d fooled yourself into thinking there was something more between you and Joel. You weren’t special, and that was the worst part, because he’d made you feel special. He’d made you feel desired– like he actually liked you. Or maybe that’s what hurt the most – to realize that to him you were just one girl among many.
You’d placed your phone back on the hook in the afternoon, anticipating your uncle’s call, and when it rang, you were relieved to hear his familiar voice down the line. It was all so complicated. The relief a strange mix with the suffocating memories of home. You were different now than when you worked at his shop. Still shy, but still different, more grown up and more independent. He didn’t know you anymore. No one knew you anymore– well except for one person.
You’d felt free with Joel– even before, when he was just your boss. He’d challenged you, made you come out of your shell, challenged your shame, and challenged your guilt. And watching Joel small talk with your uncle, you started to wonder if that was the reason why it had hit you so hard? Joel had let you be yourself, while still challenging you. He’d let you be shy, while still feeling sexy. He’d made you feel seen, until you’d been forgotten.
“You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a leak,” your uncle said, pulling you from your thoughts, and getting up from his seat.
With his glass raised to his lips, Joel only gave him a short nod as he watched him walk away from your table. When your uncle was out of earshot, Joel dropped the act, shoulders relaxing as he gently placed his beer on the red and white gingham.
His face looked tired, eyes sparkling with melancholy. “I’m sorry for showin’ up here all unannounced,” he started, fingertips tapping lightly over the cloth, “you weren’t pickin’ up your phone and I need to talk to you.”
The lump on your throat grew larger as you tried to swallow around it, lost for words. “F-for what?” you said, voice hoarse and not louder than a whisper.
“I think we both know for what,” he sighed, “I fucked it up with you– never should’ve said those things to Cheryl– even if it was just actin’. I got so caught up in you, I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was too late, and I’m sorry.”
“I-I, J-Joel,” you stuttered, brows pulling together tightly as you searched for your words.
“You don’t need to say nothin’ right now, but I wanna drive you home ‘f that’s okay? Wanna have a proper talk with you.”
His hand was shaking as he placed it gently on your shoulder, the touch making your eyes fall shut as a hitching breath escaped you.
“Joel,” you whispered.
“Please,” his hand moved gently up your neck to cup your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending goosebumps down your spine. “Please, I need to explain myself.” His voice sounded pained and full of sorrow. “I’m beggin’ you, sweetheart.”
You opened your eyes slowly, breath shaky as you tried to hold back the tears pressing behind your eyes. His whole face shifted when you met his eyes, melancholy turning to worry, his other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as he shifted closer.
“Hey,” he said it so softly, “Sweet girl, sweet sweet girl, please don’t cry.” His forehead fell against yours, his mustache tickling your skin as he pressed ‘I’m sorry’ into it.
“O-okay,” you managed to stutter out against your better judgment.
Joel lifted his head, brown warm eyes finding yours as his thumbs rubbed gently into your skin, “Yeah?”
Behind Joel, you noticed your uncle exit the men’s room, and you jerked out of Joel’s hold. His brows tightened together in a confused frown before you gave him a short nod in the direction of your uncle. Joel gathered his hands in his lap, his eyes tracing your uncle as he squeezed back into his seat. He gave Joel a look you couldn’t decipher, jaw locked tight and eyes piercing, before he turned to you with a plastered smile.
“Alright, what do you say, sweetie? You want some dessert?”
Your eyes flicked quickly from your uncle to Joel, and then back again, “No, I think I’m too full, and um… it’s getting late.”
Your uncle hummed, “Yeah, been a long day for sure.” Shifting in his seat your uncle fished his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Let’s see if we can get a hold of that pretty friend of yours,” he said, turning his head to search for Deborah.
As he got her attention, Joel fished his pack of cigarettes from the front pocket of his shirt. He lit himself a cigarette as you watched your uncle hold up his wallet and point. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at Joel, watching the way his lips pursed around the cigarette as he inhaled.
“I think I’m also gonna use the restroom before we leave,” you peeped, getting to your feet before anyone could say anything. You felt Joel’s hands graze the back of your legs as you squeezed past him. The touch quick but gentle, but still leaving a burn of longing either way.
Pushing open the door to the restroom you took a deep breath. Joel was here. Joel was here and he wanted to apologize. Pacing to the end of the room, you discreetly dropped your head to check the stalls. No one. Good. Leaning your weight over the stone sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror.
What were you doing? One touch from Joel and you fall apart?
You released a breathless laugh and shook your head at yourself; you were in over your head, but at the same time a bubble of relief sat in your throat. He was here after all, he wanted to explain himself, and you knew that deep down you wanted to hear it.   
When you made your way back to the table, something in the air had changed. “There she is,” your uncle said, gathering his jacket, “Ready to go?”
“Um…” You looked to Joel, but something about him looked different. His shoulders looked tense, the cigarette pinched between his fingers were close to burning out, but it was his face when he looked at you that made you worried. The previous tenderness gone, replaced by a clenched jaw and eyes that wouldn’t meet yours.
“Actually, Joel said–”
He cut you off, “I’m gonna stay for another drink…”
His words dropped to the pit your stomach where they weighed you down, your feet frozen to the tiled floor. When Joel still didn’t look at you as he handed you your jacket and purse, you knew something was clearly wrong. Beside you your uncle crowded your space. His hand landed on your shoulder where it rubbed harshly into your skin, almost possessive as his eyes locked on Joel in a way that said, ‘good man’.
“I’ll drive you home, sweetie.”
With a hand resting at your back, your uncle guided you out the restaurant without as much as a mutter of goodbye to Joel. You looked back at him, not once but twice, but he still didn’t look at you – his eyes were glued to the foam of his beer as you vanished out the door.
Back inside your uncle’s rental car you were quiet, sitting with your thoughts as they swirled around your head. You’d been so close to believing Joel; that he was actually sorry, that he wanted to apologize. But once again you’d been a fool. Leaning your head against the window you felt so silly– silly for getting your hopes up.
“I– uh,” your uncle cleared his throat, “That Joel back there, sweetie, he’s not who he says he is.”
Lifting your head you turned to your uncle with a frown, “I don’t–”
Your uncle cut you off, “I don’t want to be telling you this– lord knows I don’t want your aunt knowing about this but…”
You watched how your uncle’s grip tightened around the steering wheel, his nervousness infecting you. What was he talking about?
“But what?” Your voice rose an octave, as you let out a nervous breath.
“Joel does porn,” your uncle revealed. He said it all dramatic, like he was in a movie and this scene was the turning point for your character. You had to restrain yourself to hide the laugh tickling your throat as he continued, “I thought he looked familiar, and– jesus, don’t you ever tell anybody about this but… he’s in a couple of movies I keep in the basement.”
You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your eyes staring straight ahead down the road. You cringed at the new atmosphere settling in the car, stuffy with embarrassment and a picture of your uncle getting off to Joel stuck to your retinas. You wanted to hurl, this new picture not something you’d ever want to visualize. You were quiet as the revelation settled, your brain searching for words, but it was like they’d all fallen out your ears.
“Listen,” he cleared his throat of the discomfort, “I don’t know what he is to you, if he’s your boyfriend or what–”
“He’s not,” you squeaked, ready for this conversation to be over.
“I saw him kissing you when I stepped out of the toilets,” your uncle accused sternly, a biting lilt to his voice.
“Kiss me? I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, confused about how he’d gotten it in his head that Joel had kissed you.
“Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he started to yell, “I saw it with my own two eyes, don’t you go lying to me.”
Your heart picked up its pace, all the blood in your body turning to ice in your veins. Pressing your lips together in a thin line, you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
“I don’t want you seeing him anymore– that kinda filth he’s involved in…” he shook his head, “it’s sinful and I don’t want him getting you involved in that.” Your uncle’s voice was stern, words spat through gritted teeth.
You were frozen in your seat. Your heart beating so fast you thought it might burst through your ribcage. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. All too quickly you were transported back home, back to who you used to be. You drew a shaky breath as a single tear spilled down your cheek.
“What would your parents say if they knew what you were doing down here? Who your friends were? That Deborah? Did you see how short her dress was? The city of sin this is,” your uncle continued as he pulled into the parking lot outside your apartment complex.
With eyes glued to your hands, you couldn’t get a single word to come out of your mouth – like they were stuck to the back of your throat where they formed a painful lump. After parking the car, your uncle turned to you, a finger brushing over your cheek in a suffocating touch.
“Sweetie,” he started, voice gone softer, “I’m worried about you. You’re out here all alone– all alone with all this temptation. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came back home with me, hm? Get you back where you belong?”
"I–..."
The words stayed stuck in your throat, unable to rise over the anxiety that gripped you at the thought of returning home to your parents. How different your life would be, back to the way it used to be, an old prison you'd hoped you'd left far behind you. Yet you felt numb, finding yourself incapable of uttering a single word of protest as your uncle nodded self-righteously. 
"I think that's the best, sweetie," he told you, his tone sounding entirely too convinced, "Tell you what Hon. . . I'm gonna be driving back down tomorrow, and I'll be damned if you aren't sitting in this seat all safe right next to me, alright? So why don't you go and pack your stuff and a bag, and I'll be by in the afternoon to pick you up?"
You said nothing, the rising panic in your throat rendering you almost paralyzed. Your fingers desperately reached for the car door handle; you needed to get out of this car. 
Unaware of your distress, your uncle bid you a contented 'See you later' as you stepped out of his car, slamming the door shut. 
Finally, he drove off. You watched him disappear with a knot in your stomach until he was just a tiny dot on the horizon, wishing he would stay that way as you tried desperately not to throw up your dinner in the parking lot.
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“Hello?”
The electric static of your voice filled Joel with a deep sense of relief. His grip around the phone handset tightened as he forced out a clumsy, “It’s Joel.”
The sigh you sent down the phone tickled up his spine, but before you could say anything Joel continued, “I just wanted to apologize to you… for last night.”
He’d felt awful all through the night and into the morning. He’d fucked it up again. Letting you leave like that last night was the hardest thing he’d done in a long while. Had you not gone to the bathroom and left him with your uncle, none of this would’ve happened.
You sighed again, “All you do is apologize Joel, but do you ever mean it?”
Joel face contracted into a grimace, “I do, sweet girl, you don’t know how much I mean it,”
“Joel…” your voice sounded pained, and it shattered something inside him. He just wanted you to be happy, and loved, and taken care of, but all he’d done was hurt you, again and again.
“It doesn’t matter how much you mean it Joel… none of it matters anymore.” The tone of your voice scared him.
“What d’you mean, sweetheart?” he hurried.
“It’s just… you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Joel– I’m leaving LA tonight.”
Joel felt his heart drop to his stomach, a rising panic bubbling under his skin as he stumbled out, “What are you talkin’ about, sweet girl?”
“I’m going back home tonight. I-I don’t know when I’ll be back– if I’m coming back. Joel, I can’t be your assistant anymore.”
“Fuck being my assistant!” he spoke through gritted teeth, holding back from yelling out in panic, “What d’you mean you’re leavin’?” Joel’s voice faltered as his heart caught up with what was about to happen.
He was gonna lose you. You would never be his. He was losing the first girl he thought he could really love. The girl he wanted a future with. Hell, the girl he could see himself grow old with. Joel knew it was fast, way too fast to be feeling like this about you, but right now, all those shitty romance novels about finding ‘the one’, all those weeping love songs about love at first sight – after you, they didn’t seem so stupid anymore.
“Joel, it’s– it’s okay.” Your voice had gone soft, but he could still hear the strain of hurt in it.
“It’s not, sweet girl, nothin’ about this is okay.” Joel’s eyes fell shut, his thumb and pointer finger coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t lose you. “I’m comin’ over– We can’t be doin’ this over the phone.”
“Joel,” you sighed.
“I’m comin’ over,” he reiterated, and hung up.
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You were carrying a bag to your car when you saw Joel’s car pull into the parking lot. He must’ve noticed you right away as he’d hastily parked next to your own car – his wheels screeched against the asphalt. As you made your way across the parking lot, you watched how he almost jumped out the car like he was in a hurry, coming around the back to fill the space between your cars.
“Joel– you really didn’t have to come all the way out here,” you told him when you got close enough, stepping past him to place your last bag in your back seat. He leaned his hand on your door, holding it open for you, his broad form shielding you from the blazing afternoon sun.
Inside, your apartment was left half-empty. You’d left most of your things, only bringing your clothes, your pictures, your records and your record player, and your books. 
You didn’t need much more where you were going.
The thought still made your stomach turn in on itself, the dread of going back home had trickled down your back ever since last night. But what choice did you have? It was either your parents finding out about your job and Joel, or going back home. You knew your uncle; he’d never keep this a secret if you didn’t do as he said. If your parents found out it would be over for you. You didn’t even want to think about it; they’d disown you if they were feeling nice, or send you to an asylum if they were feeling extra nice. If you didn’t go now, they’d never let you come home again, and it scared you, you were already on thin ice for moving to LA in the first place.
“Are you just gonna pretend this isn’t your uncle’s idea?” Joel’s voice had a bite to it, and it caught you off guard. Standing to your full height you raised a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. His face wore none of the anger you’d heard in his voice, instead there was a veil of sadness coating his features.
“I– Why do you think that?” You tried to keep your voice steady, normal, you didn’t want him to hear how scared you were.
“’Cause of what he told me back at the restaurant,” he closed your car door, “told me he knew who I really was and to stay away from you– he didn’t want me taintin’ you with my filth.”
Your eyes fell shut as your hand came up to rub at your forehead. So that’s what happened yesterday? Letting your hand fall, your eyes fell over Joel’ face; over his neat mustache that tickled you in just the right way whenever he kissed you, over his soft curls he’d let grow out the last couple of months, and over his eyes. His brown eyes now swirling with something you hadn’t seen in them before. Shame?  
“I done fucked it up haven’t I– you associatin’ with me? He’s takin’ you back to your daddy, ‘s that it?” When he met your eyes they softened, a veil of his regular self now concealing that blink of insecurity.  
You shook your head as a lump grew at the back of your throat, “You just– you don’t understand Joel.” The words came out strained as you felt tears push behind your eyelids.
“Hey,” Joel softened immediately, his hand wrapping gently around your upper arm and sending a warmth through your body. “You’re okay, sweet girl, tell me what I don’t understand.”
He stepped a little closer, but not too close, his hand traveled up your arm in a soothing gesture. Your eyes fell shut again, squeezing them tight to stave off your tears. You’ve never talked about it before with anybody. Never talked about your family and how trapped you’d felt by their rules and their expectations; the guilt they’d instilled in you for never being able to live up to the person they wanted you to be.
You shook your head, “I don’t think I can,” you half-whispered.
“Sweetheart, I– I know I fucked it up with you, and I know I ain’t your boyfriend or nothin’, but I do care for you– I care for you more than you think. I wanna be there for you when somethin’s wrong. So please, tell me what’s wrong.”
Slowly opening your eyes, you looked at him. Those warm like whiskey eyes staring at you with concern and with a hint of something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Adoration? Fondness? Love?
“My uncle will be back soon,” you said, voice low, “he wants to get on the road before dark.”
“’s that really what you want?” he asked then, his hand slipping from your arm.
“It’s– it’s complicated, Joel.”
A sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand over his face, “Yeah… I just wish you weren’t leavin’– wish it didn’t have to end like this.”
He didn’t look like himself. Eyes shining with sadness, and that usual cocky lilt to his voice gone, exchanged by something low and strangled. His face contorted into a crooked smile, his shoulders shaking with an unhumorous breathy laugh as he shook his head.
“Shit–”, he snickered, “life’s cruel sometimes… you finally fall in love with a girl and then…” he shook his head.
You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Fall in love? In love with you? Joel didn’t look at you, his hand rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk away, rounding the tail of his car.
“Fall in love?” you asked, hands falling to your side in shock, “with me?”
Joel stopped at your voice, “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged with a sad smile.
Those tears you’d fought so hard to stave off finally broke loose, a single tear running down your cheek – the tear in the dam of your sadness. Joel’s arms were around you in an instance, strong and steady. He held you so close to his broad chest, that familiar scent of cologne mixed with cigarettes making a sob escape you as you realized you’d never be able to be this close to him ever again.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into his shirt.
Joel’s grip around you tightened as he dipped his head against your cheek, “Why are you apologizin’, sweet girl? I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“I don’t want to leave,” you whispered; your tears staining his shirt.
“Then don’t– stay,” Joel said, soothing a hand across your back.
“I-I can’t– they’ll… they’ll hate me if they find out.”
“Find out about what, sweet girl?”
“You… the porn… everything. He’ll tell them and I’ll never be able to come home again,” you cried into his shirt.
“Okay,” Joel sighed, loosening his grip around you, “let’s go back to my place– we should talk.”
“But my uncle–” you started to protest, but Joel cut you off.
“He doesn’t decide over you, sweet girl, you make your own decisions– you hear me?”
His hands found your face, his massive palms holding you gently as he rubbed his thumbs down your cheek, drying your tears. You could only nod.
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You’d never been inside Joel’s house before, you realized, as you trailed after him up the steps to his front door. He lived in one of those houses at the top of a long hill where he had the most incredible view over LA. You knew porn paid him the big bucks, but he’d been sensible when it came to his home – well, sensible for LA. 
It was a one-story house in the shape of an U; inside, the hallway opened up to a living room where big glass doors framed his back yard and a kidney shaped pool. Warm, dark toned wood paneling clad his walls and made the space feel masculine, but inviting.
With a hand hovering over your back he guided you towards his couch. “D’you want a cup of tea?” Joel asked you as you sat down on his leather couch. He looked nervous where he stood, palms running down the side of his leg like he didn’t know what to do with them. It was contagious.
“Um, okay,” you nodded, shifting a little in your seat and folding your hands in your lap.
Waiting for Joel to come back from the kitchen you tried to steady your stuttering heart. You’d been mostly silent on the drive over, trying to wrap your head around the fact that Joel was in love with you – the fact never seeming to stick to your brain in the right way.
It felt ridiculous – Joel, a successful pornstar, being in love with you. But stacked on top of his confession was the fact that Joel was a pornstar – making a living out of having sex with other women. You didn’t understand how exactly it bothered you, but you knew that it did somewhere deep down – but then again did you have any right to be bothered by it if it paid your bills.
“Didn’t know if you took sugar or not so I brought the bowl.” Joel pulled you from your thoughts, placing a steaming cup of tea and a small crystal bowl filled with sugar on the coffee table in front of you.
“Thank you,” you smiled meekly, your hand finding the string to bop the teabag as you watched the steaming water turn darker.
You felt the cushion dip as Joel sat down, a seat of absence between you. 
The air felt loaded. Loaded with the week left behind you. Loaded with Joel’s lingering confession. Loaded with the uncertain future. Joel watched your hands, eyes fixed but far away.
“I… uh,” Joel cleared his throat as he searched for his words. “I wanna apologize to you for– for everythin’ that happened at work on Monday.”
You felt yourself not, drawing back your hands to rest them in your lap, a finger clumsily picking at your nailbed.
“There ain’t no excuse for how I was actin’– for the things I said… truth is, the way I feel about you, I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You make–” Joel tipped his head, a smile coating his lips, “you make everythin’ just brighter– like everythin’ will be alright as long as I have you… And I know this all feels fast, but I’ve been crazy ‘bout you since I first laid my eyes on you. I ain’t ever believed in that ‘love at first sight’ crap but,” Joel hesitated, like the words hung at the tip of his tongue but wouldn’t let go.
“But?” you encouraged.
“I think I do now.”
His words tasted so bitter and so sweet. Tipping your head downwards your eyes found your hands.
“Joel…” you shook your head, trying to will the words to form. “This… I don’t understand.”
“What ain’t you understandin’, sweet girl?” He shifted his weight, leaning closer but still maintaining a respectful distance.
“Why me?” You looked up from your lap, eyebrows pulled together in a frown.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” He breathed out in shock.
“I mean, you’re Joel Packer– you can have any girl you want… and I guess you already do– at work.” You swallowed around the growing lump in your throat, tears pushing behind your eyelids.
“Well, I ain’t in love with all those other girls, am I?” His voice was gentle; the words escaping like they were the easiest words in the world.
Your tears pushed their way forward, trailing down your cheeks like curving rivers. Joel instantly moved closer, the familiar warmth of his body against your side made the tears run faster.
“Hey, my sweet girl, it’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” he cooed, pulling you into his embrace.
“It’s not, Joel… I don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into his shoulder.
“Tell me and we’ll figure it out together,” he pulled away to cup your head in his hands, thumbs wiping away your tears, “just tell me, baby.”
You watched his face, your eyes dancing over his features, drinking him in. Drawing a deep breath, you told Joel everything. You told him about your parents and your upbringing, their rules and their expectations. How they’d wanted you to be the perfect student, the perfect daughter, and someday the perfect wife. You told him why you’d moved to LA in the first place – to run from it all, from the guilt and shame they instilled in you for never being what they wanted. Joel held you in his arms as you emptied your feelings. He let you speak, humming at the right moments and squeezing you tighter when it was extra emotional for you.
“And now my uncle’s gonna tell them about you and the porn and–” you spoke fast, stumbling over your words, “they’ll disown me– I know it or worse they’ll come and get me… send me somewhere,” you sobbed.
“Heyheyhey,” Joel shifted his hold on you. You’d sunk into the couch as he’d let you talk, your feet slung over his lap as he held you close. Now he sat up, turning your body to face him, eyes locked with yours. “Listen, baby– they ain’t takin’ you anywhere, you hear me? You’re an adult– you’re your own person now!”
“I know I’m askin’ a lot of you– you’re afraid of losin’ your family– I understand! Believe me I do.” His head tipped against your forehead, nose brushing gently against yours. “My folks, they—... well they ain’t talkin’ to me anymore. Don’t matter how famous I am, I’m a sinner to them.”
“Joel, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart aching for him.
“Ain’t nothin’ to be sorry about– it’s in the past and I got Tommy…” he trailed off, lifting his head, one large hand cupping your cheek. “Listen, my sweet girl, you’re the only girl I want. I want you to stay, but I want you to stay for your own sake. There ain’t nothin’ you owe your folks, okay? And I promise you I’ll always be there for you!”
For once you didn’t think.
Leaning closer you brushed your lips against Joel’s, and it made all the walls inside you break down. Humming in surprise he stalled before he relaxed against you, pulling you closer, his hand pressed into your cheek. There was no air, only Joel. His mustache tickled your upper lip and cupid’s bow in just the right way, and you realized just how much you’d missed him.
The kiss was languid like molasses, pulling you apart and putting you together again. Your hand found his neck, fingers curling into the hair at the back of his neck – tethering yourself to him. He broke away from your kiss, pressing soft tender kisses along your jaw, his hand brushing down the column of your neck.
“Come sit in my lap, sweet girl,” he whispered into your skin and a rush of electricity sped through your body. His hand fell to your waist while the other grabbed at the thick of your thigh – maneuvering you to straddle him.
“There you go, my good girl,” he praised, his hands rubbing it into your skin. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Joel leaned forward, pressing soft kisses to the spot where your jaw met your neck.
“Joel, I– ah!” you gasped as he brushed his tongue over that sensitive spot behind your ear. You felt his smile against your skin, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin before his lips brushed over your drumming pulse. He kissed his way along your jaw, nose bumping into yours as he hovered before your lips – daring you to kiss him again.
You took the bait, eyes flicking down to his lips before you pressed your own against him. You didn’t have much experience with love but being this close to Joel felt so right. Maybe this was what love was, you thought. 
“I think I’m in love with you,” you mumbled against his lips, your words swallowed by his kiss. A wide smile blossomed across Joel’s face at your words, and soon you were kissing teeth.
“Whatchu sayin’, sweet girl?” he grinned, raising one eyebrow at you as he leaned back.
You had to fight not to roll your eyes at him, at how he always found a way to playfully tease you. You weren’t joking though – you meant it, you really did.
“I’m in love with you too,” you told him sincerely, “I don’t know how to be in love, so you’ll have to be patient with me, but I’m yours if you’ll have me.”
“I’ll always want you, sweet girl, always,” he promised, sealing it with a chaste kiss.
“I uh, I think I need to quit being your assistant too,” you said, biting your lip. “I can’t– I don’t really want to see you with other women… you can tell me about work, but I don’t want to see it.”
Joel squeezed your waist gently before rubbing soft circles over the spot. “That’s okay– thank you for tellin’ me,” he nodded, “I’ll talk to Ronald ‘n see if he knows if there’s any assistant jobs for you over in Hollywood.”
You slowly shook your head, “Ronald is a piece of shit.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Joel chuckled, leaning his head against the back of the couch, “But he’s connected, and very convincin’.”
“He’d never do that for me,” you said.
“But he’ll do it for me– I’m his favorite client,” he grinned, leaning forward to cup your chin, before pulling his hand away.
“You just make him a lot of money,” you countered with a shrug, still sitting pretty in his lap.
“Do I now?” Joel asked, leaning closer with a cocky grin, “’n how do I do that, sweet girl?”
“Joel,” you sighed as his lips brushed over yours in another quick peck.
“Listen,” he started, “It’s been a long time since I’ve dated anyone ‘n I won’t lie, last time it got complicated ‘cause of my job. You know what the job entails, but I need you to talk to me– we need to be communicatin’, you need to tell me ‘f somethin’s wrong– just like you’re doing so well for me right now.”
“Ok, Joel,” you nodded, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Thank you, sweet girl,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss to your temple.
You stayed like that for seconds, minutes, hours, you didn’t know. But it felt nice to be so close, to just be in each other’s company, to enjoy being so in tune with another person without any ulterior motive. You didn’t know when, or who started it, but his lips were back over yours, moving in a perfect rhythm. Slow and drawn out, enjoying every second of being this close. When his tongue darted over your bottom lip, the kiss got messier, more passionate, like either of you couldn’t get enough of the other.
Under you, you felt Joel’s cock harden, the feel of what you did to him making your cunt ache for him. His capable hands had explored your clothed body, rubbing softly over the dips and curves before they’d landed on your ass. With a gentle rock, he’d moved you back and forth over him, catching your every moan with his mouth as your clit caught on his growing bulge.
It felt so good. Joel felt so good.
He moved you expertly over him, edging you closer to an edge you didn’t think you could reach this fast, your arousal soiling your panties with every grind. The kiss got sloppy, and you broke away, content little sighs escaping your mouth as you buried your face in Joel’s neck. He was everywhere. The scent of him, his warmth, his hard cock underneath you– it was all too much, and Joel knew it. Tightening his grip on your ass, he bucked his hips to meet your grinding, and you snapped. Mewling into his neck, you withered in his lap, legs shaking with your orgasm.
“Joel,” you managed to moan between the white hot ecstasy.
“There you go, baby– good girl, come for me, just like that,” he encouraged, rubbing his hand down your back in gentle strokes. His heavy hand rested over your back, pressing soft kisses to your temple as you came down, cooing at the aftershock.
With your mind somewhat back on earth you lifted your head from the home you’d made in his neck to place a soft kiss to his lips. Meanwhile your hands slipped between your bodies, clumsy fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jeans.
Joel broke your kiss, “Not here.” Confused, you pulled away, your eyebrows meeting in a furrow. “Let me fuck you properly… in my bed.”
Stumbling back into his hallway, your hands linked, he led you to his bedroom. His decorating was simple: a king-sized bed placed up against the back wall, paired with more of those large floor-to-ceiling windows gave him a view out into his backyard. An art piece hung above his bed, which looked suspiciously like a Warhol, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it with Joel’s hands on you.
He took his time undressing you– one painstaking item at a time, dotting kisses to each new piece of skin revealed. You were practically swimming in your arousal by the time he got to your panties. He had that look in his eyes, something dark and filled with lust as he sank to his knees before you. Never breaking eye contact, Joel leaned in, his lips brushing over the soft spot below your belly button – it made goosebumps prickle across your skin, and a hitch of breath to get stuck in your throat.  His lips skated downwards, running along the elastic of your panties, teeth nipping at the bow in the center.
It was like time stood still. Outside the setting sun filled Joel’s bedroom with a golden hue, and bathed him a soft warmth. The way he looked at you sent bolts of electricity through your body, into every nerve ending. He was everywhere, and you wanted him everywhere, wanted him inside.
His fingertips grazed the side of your thighs, finding the thin sides of your panties. His eyes locked with yours and you nodded along with a breathless, “Yes,” before he pulled them down. A smile filled with cocky happiness spread across his features when he hit a bit of a snag, your arousal and previous orgasm making the fabric stick to your cunt.
After helping you step out of your panties, Joel sat back on his heels as he admired you. His tight jeans clung to his thighs and your eyes couldn’t help but trail over him; over his strong muscles, his impressive bulge, his signature belt buckle and his scarlet red shirt with the deep V, straining against his shoulders. Naked and bare for him, he took in your body, those warm whiskey eyes memorizing every inch of it. The rough skin of his hand made you keen under his touch where it skated up your leg, following your form and parting your legs for him. Hooking his hand under your thigh, Joel placed it over his shoulder giving him a perfect view of your wet cunt, while your fingers found his curls to keep yourself steady.
“Look at this pretty pussy,” he whispered almost to himself, “it’s all messy f’me ain’t it?” He dragged his lips along your inner thigh, dark eyes locked with yours.
“Y-yes,” you managed to stutter out – your whole body alight under his touch.
“Yes, it is, baby,” he underlined his words with a finger swiping through your soaked folds, the sound filling the space between you. “You hear? Hear how messy?”
A heat traveled up your neck to your cheeks, making them burn under his playful teasing. “Joel,” you whined, your fingers tightening your grip on his curls. He continued his teasing, placing wet kisses to the inside of your other thigh. The coarse hair of his mustache brushing against the sensitive skin in just the right way. 
“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, “you gonna let me take care of ya, sweet girl? Gonna let me show you I’m only yours?”
You were nodding even before he’d finished his sentence, “Yes,” you sighed. The ache between your legs burned so bright it almost hurt.
With your permission, Joel closed the teasing distance, and buried his face between your legs. He started with a kiss directly to your clit, before he dipped lower to taste you properly. Small and breathy sighs escaped your lips, your other hand not in his hair falling to his shoulder to keep you from keeling over.
The flat of his tongue lapped at the seam of your cunt, collecting your arousal on your tongue, as he hummed in contentment. It felt too good. He always made you feel so good. When the tip of his tongue teased your hole, you had to bite down on your bottom lip to fight back the moan about to escape you. Pressing your heel into his back, your body bucked by its own will, meeting the swipes and zigzags of his tongue.
“Joel,” you gasped when he found your clit again, a tense arousal building in your core. Spurred on by your noises, Joel sucked at your sensitive bud, laving his tongue over it in lazy strokes.
“Fuck,” you whispered, breath hitching in your throat as you squeezed your eyes shut from the ecstasy. You were close now, your second orgasm approaching fast in Joel’s capable hands– or tongue.
“C’mon, baby,” he spoke between laps over your clit, urging you on, “come all over my tongue.”
A hand slid up to your ass, holding you flush to his face as you started to wither above him. His cheeks were warm from your soft thighs, his mustache slick with your arousal as he brought you closer and closer.
“There she goes, good girl,” he said with a ragged puff, encouraging you when the dam finally broke. His grip on your ass tightened, keeping you upright, as your whole body started to shake with your orgasm. Your grip on his hair was tight, tethering yourself to Joel, as you whimpered out breathy moans. Your hips bucked into his mouth, and the heel you dug into his back must’ve hurt, but your mind was entirely elsewhere, lost in the pleasure he was giving you.
He pressed soft kisses to the fold where your thigh started as the aftershocks coursed through you, holding you steady while your chest heaved for breath as you tried to calm down.
“Joel,” you sighed contently, your hand brushing over his hair. He didn’t pull away like you thought he’d do, instead he placed another kiss to your sensitive clit. You jumped at the touch, a giggle catching in your throat.
“I’m not done witchu, sweet girl.” You could feel the smile against your skin, the way his lips smoothed the exposed surface, the sweetness of his smile practically dripping down your legs.
He helped you slide your leg off his shoulder, his big hands framing your waist as he rose from the floor with a restrained grunt. He looked a mess. Hair pulled in all directions, mustache glistening with your wetness and cheeks smeared with your arousal. Seeing what you’d done to him, you felt your cheeks heat up.
With his hands around your waist, he walked you backwards, until the back of your legs hit the end of the bed. He was crowding your space now, the familiar scent of him now mixed with you sent your brain into a mushy state. He pushed you forward gently, and you fell down on his bed, bouncing slightly.
Joel towered over you, still completely dressed. The thought of how bare you were for him, while he was still fully clothed, sent a tingle down your tummy to your core. He had the upper hand, and it felt good. It felt good to let him take control, to be able to shut your brain off for a while, to know he would take care of you.
Across his face, Joel wore his signature cocky grin as he stepped closer to the edge of the bed, the hardwood floor creaking slightly with ever step. You dipped your head to your shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes, and it made his smile wider. He stalked over you, his hand curling around your ankle before he playful yanked you towards him. A yelp fell from your lips, before a giggle broke lose.
“Oh, you ain’t gonna be gigglin’ like that when I’m done witchu,” he teased, lowering himself over your body.
“W-what are you gonna do to me?” you asked breathlessly as Joel dipped down to nip at the skin below your collarbone.
A deep chuckle rumbled across your skin between his kisses, “Gonna make you come, and come and come, sweet girl– wanna feel you squeezin’ around cock– make you forget your own name.”
“Shit, Joel,” you stuttered out as his lips closed around your nipple, “I-I haven’t–”
He cut you off, “That ain’t matter to me, sweet girl, I know you’ll be good f’me.”
And he was right; you wanted nothing more than to be good for him.
He kissed a trail down the valley of your breasts, across your tummy and the dip of your belly button until he reached your mound. Joel got comfortable on his knees, hooking his arms under your legs to manhandle you the way he wanted, spreading your thighs, and putting your wet cunt on display for him.
“Sweet fuckin’ pussy,” he pulled back and spat, and you felt the way his spit dripped down your clit, “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.”
With his thumb he smeared his spit through your folds, not that you needed it, you were plenty wet from your two previous orgasms. You jumped under him when he brushed your clit, puffed and sensitive as it was, and it made him chuckle.
“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, sweet girl?” he coaxed, putting more pressure on your clit with his thumb.
Your moan got caught in your throat as you hurried to answer him, “Y-yes, Joel, so sensitive.” Heat and arousal flushed through your body, traveling through your bloodstream, and shading the world in a rose-tinted hue.
Another chuckle escaped Joel before he ducked down and brought his lips to your clit, while two of his fingers teased down your folds to edge at your opening. You felt your hole clench in anticipation, as a whimpering moan fell from your lips.
“This hole is just drippin’ for me ain’t it?” he teased, voice muffled by his lips around your clit.
You couldn’t think, so consumed by his touch and the way he made you feel. You managed to nod and breathe out a “Yes.” Joel hummed around your clit, the vibrations edging you on as his fingers prodded at your entrance.
Pushing forward he thrusted his fingers inside. It was a snug fit, but your arousal dripping over his knuckles made it easy. He immediately curled his fingers, expertly prodding at that sensitive spot inside that made you squirm underneath him and buck your hips involuntarily.  
“Shh,” Joel soothed you, fingers still pushing up, hitting something that made your leg shake involuntarily as he circled them against the delicate flesh.
Shit. Fuck.
You mewled, whiny breaths falling from your lips as you hurled quickly towards the edge, again. Joel didn’t let up, thrusting his fingers expertly into that perfectly sensitive spot. When your right leg couldn’t stop shaking, he slung his other arm over your stomach, keeping you in place for him.
“That’s it, sweet girl, that’s your g-spot, honey,” he cooed between lapping and sucking at your clit, “Are you gonna come again, baby? You can let go– ‘s okay.”
The added pressure of his arm sent your hurling towards your release. Your back arched off his bed at a particular perfect thrust; your breath coming out panting and breathless.
“Joel–” you heaved, “J-Joel, I-I’m—,” you couldn’t finish your thought. You clenched around his fingers, a pressure building like you’d never felt before – you felt like you were about to explode.
Joel sucked hard on your clit before he moved his lips off with a soft pop, “C’mon, honey,” he coaxed, stopping his thrusting fingers to massage at your g-spot, “Be a good girl f’me and come all over my fingers.”
With his permission you came with a silent cry, eyes squeezed tight as your whole body arched off the bed, your head pressed tightly into the mattress as you let it wash over you. It was like your body clenched and released all at the same time. Small tears trickled down your temples, your body shaking from the force of your orgasm. You gushed over his fingers, and Joel pulled his fingers from your wasted hole at the exact right moment, right as a stream of liquid released.
You were somewhere else entirely, floating away on a cloud of ecstasy you’d never felt before – the feeling so intense, it made your eyes roll back. Beside you, you felt the bed dip. Still shaking from your orgasm, you heaved for your breath, trying to come down. Joel’s arms snaked their way around you, pushing you against his body as he cooed and hushed you.
“You’re alright, sweet girl,” he mumbled against your temple, “squirting all over my hand like a good girl.”
“Joel, I–” You were still catching your breath, still reeling from the intensity.
“You’re ok, baby.” 
He held you close until you’d fully calmed down, and your heartbeat had steadied. You let yourself be held, to just be. Joel pressed absentminded kisses to your skin. One on your cheek, another to the pulse of your neck, a third to your collarbone. He was amazing. He was yours.
“Thank you, Joel,” you finally spoke, “I’ve– I’ve never done that before, it… it felt really good.”
Joel pressed another kiss to your cheek, “You’re welcome, baby– you looked so fuckin’ hot comin’ like that.” 
He pressed another kiss to your cheek before he pulled away. Standing to his feet he stretched his back with a groan. You watched how his muscles moved underneath his shirt. He must’ve felt you watching him as he sent you a cocky smile over his shoulder before he padded towards the door of his en suite.
You turned onto your stomach, your eyebrows pulling together in a furrow as you asked him, “Where are you going?”
“Just gonna getchu ya somethin’ to clean up with,” he explained, nodding his head towards his en suite.
“But…” you trailed off, eyes flicking sheepishly towards his bulge, his cock rock hard and straining against his jeans.
He caught your eye, his trademark cocky smirk spreading. Joel turned his body towards you, and let you ogle him as he crept towards you. “But, what?” he questioned, one teasing eyebrow raised.
“What about…” you bit your lip, heat flushing your cheeks. He’d made you squirt for fucks sake, and you still couldn’t ask him for his cock.
“What about what?” he teased, standing at the end of the bed, his hard cock now eye level with how you were sitting. He watched you from above, how you flicked your eyes from his face to his cock, trying to tell him what you wanted without saying the words.
“You want more, greedy girl?” he questioned, cupping your cheek and angling your face towards him, “You want my cock, don’t you?”
You nodded in his hand, big moony eyes looking up at him. Joel shifted his weight, his hand traveling from your cheek to your chin, letting his thumb run over it in a smooth motion.
“Take my clothes off,” he ordered.
Sitting up on your knees, your hands started fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Above you, Joel watched you – warm eyes studying you. Unbuttoning the last button, you placed a nervous hand to his chest, right above his heart. Under your palm you felt it beat, fast paced, but steady. With a scrunch of your face, you looked to him.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, fitting his own hand over yours, “I’m crazy ‘bout you, sweet girl.” He dipped his head to fit a soft kiss to your lips.
He helped you with the rest of his clothes. His shirt hitting the floor first, then followed by his belt and his jeans, and lastly his socks. Clad only in his white briefs, you took him in. His handsome face, his neat mustache, his tanned skin and broad shoulders, but most importantly (at least in this moment), his aching cock.
“Take it out f’me,” he ordered.
Obeying his command, your fingers dug into the elastic. His rock hard cock strained desperately against the cotton, a wet spot had formed where the head was, turning the fabric translucent from precum. You pulled his briefs down his legs, his impressive cock springing free to bob in front of your face. Joel stepped out of his underwear, kicking them across the floor to the pile with his other clothes.
You moved up the bed as he crawled over you, parting your legs for him to fit between as you laid back against his fluffy pillows, the scent of him overwhelming. His cock rubbed against your cunt, the head catching on your clit as he adjusted himself over you.
“This whatchu wanted, sweet girl?” he asked, guiding the tip through your folds, and coating himself in your arousal.
“Y-yes, Joel, please,” you begged, “want you.”
Between your legs he jerked himself off, spreading your wetness all over his cock, a slick wet sound squelching from his fist. Joel’s eyes trailed over your body before he shook his head.
“Sit up,” he said.
Confused, you did as he said, sitting up on your knees before him. Joel shifted on the bed, leaning his back against the headrest, his impressive cock standing to attention in his lap.
“C’mon baby, come take what’s yours,” he said, reaching his hand out to you and helping you straddle his thighs.
Looking between your bodies, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. Each time you’d had sex, Joel was always the one in control, but now… Your teeth caught on your bottom lip, insecurity an uninvited guest in the home you’d made in Joel’s bed.
Warm hands cupped your cheeks then, lifting your head to meet his. “You’re alright, my sweet girl,” he told you, fitting his lips against yours, “wanna feel you squeezin’ my cock.”
With Joel’s guiding hands, you lifted yourself over him as he guided the head towards your entrance, the head of his cock pushing through your folds. “Take it slow ‘f ya need it,” he told you, reassuring you. With a timid nod, you shifted your weight slightly, steading yourself on your knees before you slowly sunk down on him.
Your mouth dropped open at the stretch, never really getting used to the size of him – even with the thorough prep he’d done to you. You took your time, easing yourself down on him one inch at a time till he was buried to the hilt in your cunt. He was so deep inside you in this position, you felt him in your tummy, too deep for a cock to reach.
“Shit,” you cursed with a whimper, feeling Joel’s thighs press against your bare ass.
“That’s it, good fuckin’ girl, knew you could do it– takin’ all that cock f’me,” he praised as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him reaching so deep inside you. His hand landed on the small of your back, pushing you closer to his chest and making you rock forward in his lap.
“Y-you’re so deep like this,” you stuttered, draping your arms around his shoulder to steady yourself as his cock hit a new angle inside you, and making you see stars.
“I know, sweet girl, I know– feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, and rocked you in his lap again. Your clit caught in the coarse hair at the base of his cock, and it made a gush of arousal drip down his cock.
You nodded your head desperately. It felt good, it felt really good.
“Why don’t ya bounce on it f’me, honey– make yourself come.”
Again, you obeyed.
You started slow, inching upwards just a tad before grinding down on him again, working yourself up and down his length at your own pace. Below you, Joel watched you closely, a lazy smile spread across his face. His hand on your waist helped guide you, and soon you were bouncing on his cock like an eager little bunny.
“Fuck,” you cursed between moans.
The drag of his cock inside you felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. Love and ecstasy and pleasure – all mixed up into one infatuated feeling. Under you, Joel groaned unabashedly. The noises he made, deep and rugged as he started to meet your bouncing with his own thrusts, building a rising rhythm of pleasure.
“Feel so fuckin’ good, baby,” he groaned, “squeezin’ my cock so good.”
“Uh-uh,” you nodded, mind gone completely blank.
The feeling of him filling you just right with every thrust and hitting that special spot inside you, were almost too much to handle. Your thighs burned with the effort, and you didn’t know how much more you could take before he was hurling you over the edge for the fourth time.
“You gonna come again, sweet girl? Gonna be my good girl and give me ’nother? Give that big cock a nice squeeze?” he encouraged.
You were far too gone to say anything coherent and when his thumb found your clit, you knew you were in trouble. Your legs shook from pleasure and the strain of your bouncing, and you fell forward, your head finding a home in his neck as you gasped. Joel worked quickly and expertly, shifting your weight on his lap so he could thrust into you from below. Breathy whiny moans escaped you in quick succession, and then you were falling apart for him with a cry.
“That’s my good girl,” he praised you through gritted teeth as you withered in his lap, squirming and gasping in his lap. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around his cock as you rode through your orgasm. Under you, Joel’s breath became shallower and his grunts more restrained, and even in your cloud of ecstasy you knew he was close.
“Fuck, ‘m comin’” he let out, quickly lifting you off his cock before he spilled hot cum onto your tummy and mound, his panting moan deep and guttural. It was hot and sticky and suffocating in a good way.
As the sun set over LA, you and Joel found refuge in each other under the pink and orange sky. Your panting breaths slowed to a still comforting silence as you held each other close, and you knew that there was nowhere else you’d rather be.
You had been unable to see it before, or simply just unwilling to let yourself see it, but the answer had been on the tip of your tongue all along. Joel had been the missing piece of your puzzle, the part you'd never even known you'd needed until he'd slotted himself securely into that space, completing your life in a way your family had never been able to. Being with Joel felt right, and if there was one thing you did know, was that no matter what your uncle said or did, or what your parents would think, you were done making sacrifices.  And so you laid in Joel's arms, your chest unraveling with the relief of the knowledge that for maybe the first time in your life, you were making a choice entirely for yourself, and that, given the chance, you would choose Joel, every day, for the rest of your life.
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and that's the end <3 if this was a movie we'd slowly fade to a drone shot of LA while cher's cover of "lay baby lay" starts playing as the credits roll over the cityscape.
i hope this was okay, and that the ending was satisfying and that you liked it? 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 i'm very curious to hear your thoughts about this! <3
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1K notes · View notes
moongreenlight · 5 months
Note
I love your work about the 141 gossiping about Ghost, love the concept of him having a “secret wife”.
Please please please write more with “secret wife y/n”, I beg of you. 🙏🏻
ANYTHING FOR YOU, ANON. <3 Ghost and secretwife!reader are my sweet babies I love them so much.
Tw: blond Simon & smiling Simon. Read at your own risk.
If there’s one thing Gaz knows how to do, it’s shut the fuck up. And if there was ever a time to employ that skill, it was now. Now after he’d been frozen watching the two of you reunite after a close call. After he’d discovered your dirty little secret. Suddenly feeling like Icarus after flying too close to the sun. Hurtling back down to earth. He was certain that when he moved there would be a crater under his feet where his stomach dropped.
He’d gone so green that another nurse came up and gently tugged on his arm to see if he was alright. He snapped his jaw shut, nodding and mumbling something that didn’t sound anywhere near reassuring. But he forced himself to leave the medbay. Left the two of you behind the curtain, where in his final glance back he saw that your feet were still neatly on top of Ghost’s big boots. Pushed up on your toes to be able to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
He made some excuse not to meet with you that evening. Could barely look you in the eye when you caught him in the hall, looking significantly more cheery than you had been that morning. You pried, asking if he was alright, feeling his forehead with the back of your hand, but he claimed the stress of their mission had just hit him and he really needed to sleep.
It took him weeks to get over the initial shock. Couldn’t stand next to Ghost during conditioning. Made a point of sitting catty-corner to him during meetings and in transit so he had the least chances of accidentally catching his eye. Feeling like he’d deeply bastardized the idea of ‘Ghost.’ Blurred the lines between the man Gaz knew and the man he was in private.
He tried to reason with himself. Keep it fresh in his mind that he’d seen the signs, just hadn’t been able to fully connect the dots by himself. And it was an accident. He’d never intentionally pry into either of your personal lives like that. It wasn’t in his character. There was nothing innately wrong with the two of you hiding a marriage. Probably would have been an HR nightmare. Gotten both of you re-stationed. He was certain you both had a good reason to hide it. And there was no better person to find out than him. He’d actually be able to keep it a secret. Soap would immediately run his mouth. Get on the intercoms and scream the news as loud as he could. Price would pull the both of you aside and try to have some heart-to-heart. Not that it wouldn’t have been nice, it just would have felt too forced. Wouldn’t have served any real purpose.
So eventually he gets over it. Never pressed you about your marriage again, and you never seemed too keen on following up his request from months ago. The dust settles in his mind. He shelves the information like an old book. Life goes on.
And then the weather turns. Starts getting colder. The first few weeks of cold after summer where the wind stings a little more. Finds it’s way through jackets and uniforms a little more artfully. Soldiers are catching ill and passing it around like it’s a competition of who can infect the entire base. The medbay is busy, but a different kind of busy than summer when it’s an optimal time to see missions through.
The medics are tasked with rounding up all the soldiers on base and issuing flu vaccines to hopefully prevent further spread. You trudge to Price’s office in the early morning. He notices you look a little pale. The rims of your eyes and tip of your nose are blotchy. A gentle shade of pink that he assumes is from the weather or the cold you were bound to catch. You chat for a bit, catch up because you haven’t had the opportunity for a few weeks. Let him know that he and the boys need to make their way to the bay for their shots at some point.
You feel a little woozy. Pressing into his doorframe for support, white-knuckling it to keep yourself from swaying in your spot. He looks a little concerned. Asks if you need to take a few days away to recoup. You wave him off, tell him it’s nothing you can’t handle, but he insists on walking you back to medbay. And he’s glad he did because on the short walk back you find yourself having to duck into a dark meeting room so you can vomit into a trash can.
He keeps a steadying arm wrapped around your waist when you stumble back out into the hall. Shaking his head when you profusely apologize. Slowing his normally long strides so you were comfortable. Gently lets you down on your own cot and instructs you to stay where you are while he goes to find a few other doctors that can delegate your work for the day between them so you can have the day off.
He sends you home despite your protest. You’d already gotten your color back. Claimed you must’ve had something off to eat. He wasn’t having it. Said he wouldn’t have his best doctor spreading sick because she’s too stubborn to get off her feet for a few hours. He’s a bit more stern than usual because he knows you won’t listen otherwise, but he brings you a ginger ale and sits next to your bed until you’ve finished it.
Later that day, when he and the boys finally get around to the bay for vaccines, he notices the way Ghost’s eyes dart around like he was looking for something. His shoulders tensing when he sees your station empty, and moments after he’s taken his shot, Price sees that he’s slunk off to a corner to make a phone call.
He doesn’t think much of it. He’s been trying to give Ghost some space. So he just shrugs it off. Let’s him finish up whatever he’s doing before they get back to work.
The boys have gotten in the habit of taking a week off as the snow melts. Just before Spring brings rain and the soft buds of new leaves on the trees. Unofficial tradition proposed early on to have a few more days rest before things inevitably picked up again. Usually gave the boys time to kick off to visit family or get some well needed time away from base. Get in a well needed break because God knew they wouldn’t be able to for the foreseeable future.
Soap finds himself a little North of Manchester in his time off. Went out to see his godparents in Bolton for a couple days before getting back up to Iverness to see his parents. Meandering through a supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine for his godmother and a bottle of bourbon for himself. Could have sworn he saw Simon turning a corner at the end of the aisle. Chalked it up to a trick of the light. Seeing things after months of close quarters with his L.T.
But then he saw the man again. Stood in line at the butcher’s counter. No mask, but the same crooked nose and cropped blond hair. Same scar hooking his jaw. Swapped out his uniform and gear for a thick leather jacket, white shirt, and a pair of jeans. Would have been unrecognizable if Johnny didn’t know him so well.
He was about to head over to say hello. Make some wise crack about Ghost missing him too much, but he was stilled for a moment when a woman approached Simon. Pushed her cart up next to him and nudged his side with her hip. Prompted him to give her a small smile- the only smile Soap had ever seen Simon grace anyone with. No teeth, just a curve of his lips, but it changed his face completely.
Ghost said something to the woman. She reached up to fuss with the collar of his jacket. Johnny saw her shoulders shake slightly and heard the quiet tinkling sound of her laughter. Completely shell shocked. So imagine his surprise when the woman turned away from Ghost and it was you. Only you looked wildly different. He knew your face well enough, but after almost six months not going to the medbay on a weekly basis, something had changed.
Even wearing an oversized sweatshirt he could see the way it pulled taught against your swollen belly. Saw the way your arm was cradling it like second nature. He didn’t even realize that the bottle of wine had slipped from his fingers until he watched Simon’s head snap toward the sound. Ears perked. Tense like he’d suddenly flashed onto the battlefield. His eyes went wild for a moment as he scanned the busy aisle, calmed only a degree when he found you.
It’s like that Spider-Man meme where the three of them meet and point at each other. Johnny’s smiling sheepishly (for once), your jaw is dropped in surprise, and Simon is glaring daggers at Johnny like somehow it was his fault that you were all in the same place at once. You’re the first one to move. Rushing up to him as quickly as you could- now moving a bit awkwardly with the disproportionate weight of your pregnancy on your front. Asking if he was alright. Grabbing his hands to make sure the glass hadn’t cut him.
Simon tailed you like a hulking shadow. Glowering down at Soap something fucking ferocious. Didn’t even give him time to tell you he was fine. Pulling you back behind his arm by the wrists with a kind of gentleness Johnny had never known the L.T. to possess. You twisted your face in displeasure, batting his hands away and stepping back out from behind the wall that was your husband. Ignoring the wine and the soft crunch of glass under your shoes.
And to Soap’s absolute bafflement, Simon stood down. Didn’t try to yank you back, didn’t voice his protest, just drew his mouth into a hard line and let you push past him. He was speechless. For what well may have been the first time in his life, John MacTavish had no words. Couldn’t apologize for the mess. Couldn’t crack a joke. Couldn’t even say hello. He was pure dead at a loss.
Somehow, he allowed you to guide him away from the mess he’d made- staining the waxed tile a muted crimson even after the disgruntled looking employee came over to mop it up. Found his voice in your tugging him along after you and Simon to the checkout where you insisted you’d pay for the bottle of bourbon he’d managed not to send careening to the ground. Tried to tell you no, but you’d already sent it down the belt. And by the time you’d rooted through your purse in search of your card, Simon had already finished paying and was tucking his wallet into his back pocket.
Shuffled out with the two of you into the car park. Making a point of putting distance between himself and Simon who was pushing the cart with one hand and had the other planted firmly on the small of your back. Always walking on the side of oncoming traffic.
Johnny tried to keep up with your conversation. Asking him about his break. Where he was staying and for how long. How had he been. But it was tense. He could feel Ghost’s eyes on the back of his head. Burning through him. Making him feel like he had a target tacked to his skull.
He said a quick goodbye when Ghost helped you into the passenger seat of your car. You said you’d see him soon enough, said if he had any extra time before they went back he’d have to come by for dinner. Simon closed the door before you could say anything else. Looking monumentally irked.
The two men stood in suffocating silence while Simon unloaded the groceries into the trunk. Johnny tried to ignore the glinting of the silver band on the L.T’s finger. Caught the light every time he set a new bag in the back. A little unsure if he was being dismissed or if Ghost was just waiting until he was certain you wouldn’t hear the lashing he was bound to receive.
But it all stayed relatively calm. Maybe the eye of the hurricane. Simon pushed the bottle of bourbon into his chest before swinging the trunk shut.
“Appreciate if you’d keep this between us.”
Ghost spoke first, the words sounding a bit sticky in his throat- like they didn’t want to come out.
“‘Course.”
Johnny’s voice wasn’t much better. Both of them shifted on their feet. Not use to this kind of conversation. Uncomfortable being pushed from their usual dynamic.
Simon just nodded, moving to push the cart back to the corral. Johnny followed.
“How long you been keepin’ this in?”
“Which bit.”
His response was flat.
“Dinnae, L.T. Seems yer a man o’ mystery these days.”
Soap prodded, unable to help himself. A smile crept into his voice.
“Don’t push it.”
Simon bit back.
“Bonnie thing for a brute like you.”
“Johnny.”
“Looks ready’ta pop.”
A harsh sigh from Ghost. He reached into his jacket pocket like he was going for a cigarette. Tightening his jaw when his hand showed back up empty. He hummed his agreement.
“Few months.”
They’d reached Johnny’s car by this point. Just a few rows over in the car park. Stood by his driver’s side door shuffling their feet once more.
“Ken it’ll turn out like you?”
He couldn’t help but ask. Never pictured Ghost the fatherly type, but the idea was growing on him now that it’d been planted in his mind.
“Hope not.”
Simon gruffed back. Johnny snorted.
“Boy o’ girl?”
This earned him a nasty look, but he figured he was in deep enough as it was. No harm in asking.
“Girls.”
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hard-candy-writing · 2 years
Text
'can i borrow your bed?' part ii
part i
summary: it's been weeks since eddie's room became your safe place for 'time to yourself.' but when your personal time gets unfortunately cut short, he's there to help out.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, pure smut. perv!eddie, choking, masturbation (f and m), p in v, a teeny bit of oral (f receiving), slight dom!eddie, clit slapping (yeah we're going there). eddie calls reader 'sweetheart' and 'brat' and reader calls eddie a pervert.
a/n: you asked for it, lovelies. hopefully it lives up to your expectations! i go feral seeing your reactions <3
tags for my thirsty friends: @ghoul-lily, @ladydovahkiin180, @sage111222, @catramoon, @merlyagrindelwald, @hahahaeddiemunson , @l0ve-s1ckn3ss, @inkedaztec, @pedroswh0r3, @hateqlt, @faffacake, @brattypeony, @bietchz, @froglivr, @strangeh0rizons, @ilikechocolatemilkh, @hellfirehope, @eddiethesexy, @eddiemunsonslips, @angelbbygrl, @took-me-hours-to-steal-those, @lightmelikeamatch, @lulukings92, @my-tin-can-mans, @apricotpopsicle,
Snow fell heavy and silent as you drove the familiar route to Eddie's trailer. You leaned forward, squinting, as if that would help you see through the whiteout. It was already so dark. But you knew your way. You'd gone there often enough.
It had all started one summer afternoon. Eddie had lent you the privacy of his room so that you could try out your new vibrator -- to much success, in your opinion. Without a partner to help out (and with Eddie woefully oblivious to your feelings for him), that thing was all that stood between you and being pent up enough to snap at the most minor inconvenience.
It had also brought you closer to Eddie, weirdly. It seemed rude to just drop by, do your business, and leave. It wasn't like they wrote etiquette books on this type of thing. So you ended up spending more time with him, buying him a six pack to pay him back which he insisted on splitting. Watching movies, going out (before and after), smoking -- a lot. Until the lines between awkward and normal blurred, and suddenly going to his trailer to get off in peace was as average as going to one of his shows.
It wasn't weird with him. And it made you fall even harder.
You didn't bother knocking. It was too cold to wait for him to answer, anyway. You stomped the snow off your boots, locked the door, and followed the sound of Eddie singing. He was always humming, whistling, or mumbling music to himself. He was in his bedroom, grabbing a fresh pair of pants and a shirt. You sat down on the edge of his bed and crossed your legs under you.
"I can't believe you're dragging me to Harrington's house for a party," he grumbled as a greeting.
You rolled your eyes. "You like him. Everyone does."
"Everyone does," he mocked, wrinkling his nose as he grabbed a crumpled pair of jeans from the floor.
"Don't you own any jeans without tears in them?" you asked. "You're gonna be freezing."
"I run hot," he said.
"So you wouldn't mind me kicking you out for a few minutes?"
Eddie grinned but didn't look up at you as he fished out a pair of socks from his chest of drawers. "You want me to go for a walk? I can."
You shook your head. As the days had gotten colder, you felt worse about shoving Eddie out of his own house to give you privacy. You didn't always let out pornographic-level moans. He could be in the living room, reading a magazine, and seemed completely unfazed by you fooling around in the next room when you came out.
"I was about to hop in the shower," he said after grabbing a pair of boxers and adding it to his pile. "I'll be about ten minutes. Is that enough time?"
"Sure."
He left the room, waving over his shoulder as he went. "Have fun!" he called, and shut the door behind him.
Oh, you would. The thought of being with him all night, him searching you out in the crush of people, meeting his eyes from across the room... You didn't even need to tease yourself to get yourself going. The thought of him was enough.
It was always enough.
--
The water pressure was shit, but that was what trailer life entailed. A small stove, an even smaller water heater, and thin walls.
Very thin walls.
While Eddie couldn't hear the buzz of the vibrator over the rush of water, he could hear your moans. It was as if he was tuned into the sound, picking it out from the roar of the rest of the world. He was already hard from the thought of you -- that was enough -- and he shampooed and washed as quickly as he could. The rest of the shower would be spent with his hand around his cock; there would be no time between then and the party, after all.
He bit down on his lower lip to keep from groaning, forehead resting on the wall the bathroom shared with his bedroom.
Five minutes may have passed. Your moans were getting higher. He knew you were close; after so many months, he had memorized every gasp and squeak, every moan and sigh. He could tell when you were close to cumming, when you were frustrated, when you wanted it rough.
"Fuck!"
Eddie froze. He knew that, too, but not from your visits. He'd heard the same tone of voice when your car's engine gave out last winter, and again that past summer when you'd lost your favourite necklace. (He'd kept it under his pillow for a week, imagining tightening it around your throat while you laid under him, until he gave it back under the guise of finding it laying around.)
He poked his head out of the shower.
"Y/N?" he called, then cut the water. "Y/N, are you okay?"
"Y-You can hear me over the shower?"
He winced. "Y... Yeah."
"Oh... Whatever!" Frustration bled through every word. "Whatever, just... It's fine."
"Doesn't sound fine," he said as he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. He left the bathroom and stood at the closed bedroom door. "What happened?"
"Stupid thing ran out of batteries."
"Oh." He frowned, uncertain of what to say. "I'm guessing the timing wasn't ideal?"
"Great deduction skills, Munson." You sighed heavily. He could hear the sheets shuffling. "You wouldn't happen to have any extras laying around, would you?"
"Not that I've seen."
"Well," you said after a moment. "I guess that ends that..."
"Or..."
It was stupid. That was the best part about it: he could just play it off as a joke, if it was too much. He could laugh and muss your hair and tease you about it after.
But if you said yes...
"Or?" you pressed, the silence between you loaded.
"Can I be of assistance?"
--
What? You, he... What?
You blinked, lips parted in shocked, staring at the door that stood between you. Your whole body still tingled, was still ready, still on the edge. But suddenly, it felt as if you were in a dream. You couldn't have heard him right.
"Are you serious?" you asked just as he followed up with, "I-It's no big deal to me."
You both laughed.
"Can I come in?" he asked. "I'm, I'm decent, by the way. Wearing a towel."
"Y-yeah," you said, tucking yourself further into the sheets.
Eddie stepped inside and shut the door behind him. You must have looked silly, his covers up to your chin. But you quickly forgot about what you looked like. You fought not to stare, the towel sitting low on his hips, one hand keeping it pinned closed. Water droplets still clung to his bare chest, making his tattoos glitter. His hair was longer, heavier with water, dripping as it clung to his neck and shoulders. The room was small, and you could feel the raging heat that radiated from his body.
"So were... were you serious?" you asked again. "Or are you just making fun of me?"
"I'd never make fun of you, sweetheart."
You scoffed. He gave you a crooked grin.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm serious. A friend in need, you know?"
"It wouldn't bother you? Like, it wouldn't be gross to you, seeing as we're friends?"
Eddie clapped a hand over his chest, wincing. "I see how it is. She thinks being with me is gross."
"N-No! I just don't want it to be awkward."
He looked up at your through his lashes, smiling. "I think we're well past awkward." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And if it makes you feel any better, you'd be helping me out with a, uh, similar problem."
Your gaze drifted down to the towel. It hadn't struck you that it sat awkwardly on his hips, betraying the shape just beneath. You chewed your lip.
"You're making me feel like a piece of meat, Y/N."
Your eyes shot back up to meet his, your cheeks heating.
"Are we doing this, Munson?"
Eddie pulled one hand away from his waist, opening the towel a little. The other side still covered him, but he waggled his eyebrows nonetheless.
"Should I do a strip tease? Will that do it for you?"
You giggled and sat up on your knees, keeping the sheets wrapped around you. He made you feel so... relaxed. They never laughed in the pornos, or in smutty books. But it felt right, to tease and snicker and scoff.
You shot him a wink. "Oh, are we doing it that way?"
You let the sheets drop.
--
Fuck. Fuck.
Eddie had kept the mood semi-serious to make you feel comfortable. To give you an out. And if you asked him to stop -- if you hesitated for one second -- he would withdraw. But it was certainly difficult to go back from this.
You were... God, you were perfect. Every freckle and mark, curve and bump, slope and shadow. It was like you were made to be held, to be kissed, praised -- no, worshiped. No matter what you looked like, he knew he'd be on his knees for you. But this was so much more than he'd expected.
Eddie stalked forward, to the edge of the bed, and your eyes tracked him all the way. Steady, studying -- anxiety swimming deep in your gaze. She thinks I'm not sure. He let his fingers drift up your neck until he held your cheek, thumb running over your bottom lip. You shut your eyes, your shaky sigh warming his chest -- inches away from each other.
"If you're not sure, we can stop. Okay?"
You nodded. He pressed him thumb to your chin and pulled your mouth open.
"Use your words."
"Okay," you repeated.
He let his towel drop, and you opened your eyes at the sound. He could see your throat bob.
"You're already..."
Eddie let his fingers drift under your chin, pulling your gaze up.
"I may have heard a little more in the shower than I let on."
"You were eavesdropping?" you gasped, mock salaciousness.
"Are you mad?"
His hand grazed your throat, down to the slope of your shoulder, tracing the bones, the curves. You shook your head, and he pushed you. It only took a little pressure for you to fall back, and he climbed over you.
"You sounded so sweet," he whispered against your throat, lips brushing the soft skin there. "I couldn't resist touching myself. It can be difficult, knowing someone so beautiful is laying in my bed, fucking herself with her vibrator."
He pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, suckling, nipping, drawing out soft mewls from your lips. Your hands drew up his back, tangled in his hair. Encouraging him as he dipped his head low, peppering kisses all over your chest, between your tits, beneath them. His nose brushed a nipple, and it stiffened in a second. Already, you were wet with shower water. Eddie lapped up the droplets, tongue snaking out to flick over your peaked nipple. You let out a sharp gasp, fingers twisting in his hair.
One hand ghosted up your leg, tracing over your knee, your thigh, your hip. His fingers brushed your pubic bone. He released your nipple with a wet pop, looked up at you.
"Yes?" he asked.
--
You took his hand and guided it to your slick folds, still tingling from the vibrator. The second he touched your clit, you let out a soft sigh -- not shocked but satisfied. Finally, your body sighed. Finally, he was touching you. You wanted to throw your head back and shut your eyes as his mouth sealed over your other nipple, tongue swirling and flicking over it. But you didn't want to miss a second, especially when he shot a coy glance your way.
He circled your clit, testing each side until he found the one that made you moan the loudest, made your hips buck up to meet his touch. Eddie dipped his fingers between your folds, spreading your slick all over your hot, puffy sex. His touch electrified you. Excited currents ran just under your skin, and your heart pounded so hard you were certain he could feel it.
He was hot. Maybe it was from the shower, but his touch seared you. The windows of the trailer were fogged up. He read each sound you made and seemed to chase them, seeking out every moan. You could have gotten lost in him -- in his heat, his scent, his skilled touch. When he slipped two fingers between your folds, you spread your legs wider -- eager, begging.
"Eddie," you breathed, searching for the words but coming up blank. "You... you're amazing, you're... Are you rutting against the bed?"
"I can stop myself, sweetheart," he panted against your chest. "I'm knuckle-deep in your hot, soaked cunt, my face buried in your tits. I'm aching down here."
"Stop using the bed," you giggled. "Start using me."
Something changed in him then. Something shifted in his face, moved in his eyes -- something darker, baser, something that ran deeper than what he showed on the surface. Eddie lifted himself up, kneeling between your legs. He withdrew his fingers from your pussy and used your slick to coat himself. He pumped his cock over you, looking you up and down.
"Do you know how hard it is, sleeping in this bed after you've used it? Some nights I lay awake wondering if I'm going insane."
You grasped one of your tits, kneading the nipple between your fingers. "I think about you when I lay here. Pretending my vibrator is your cock."
"Like this?" He slid his cock against your folds. Hot, hard, velvety soft.
You tipped your head back, grinding up against him. "Yes, yes."
His thrusts were slow, hard, pressing against your aching cunt with enough pressure to make your squirm. Eddie grasped your hips and held you down, grip strong enough to leave marks. It stung, nails digging into your flesh. But the pain mingled with the heat between your legs, the delicious friction that built up and up as he picked up the pace.
"How often do you listen to me?" you gasped, grasping his forearm with one hand as the other played with your tit.
Eddie's chuckle was dark, low. "How often do you moan my name?"
You lifted your legs, locking them around his waist. "Fucking pervert."
His expression darkened. He moved one hand to your throat, squeezing the sides. "You're the one leaving wet spots on my sheets, sweetheart."
"I'll bet you lick them up."
Eddie shifted, leaning down to lick a firm stripe from your opening to your clit, his hot tongue laid flat against you. You let out a quivering moan, grasping at his hair. You shut your eyes, lifting your hips up, begging for more. All you got was a quick, rough slap on the clit, then he was lining his cock up to your opening.
"You're being so mean to me," he said, his voice hoarse with arousal. "I lent you my bed all those times. Was a perfect gentleman to you. Now here I am, helping you get off, holding back when all I want to do is stuff my cock into your pretty mouth, and what do you do? Call me a pervert." Both his hands returned to your hips, holding you down again. "Beg for it, Y/N. Beg for my cock."
He pushed inside -- just a little, just enough for it to sting. You tried to push further, but his hands were firm on you, pressing you into the plush bed. Your pussy clenched around nothing, begging for something -- for him.
--
"Please," you mewled. "Please, Eddie. I want you."
That was enough for him. God, you didn't even have to say anything. Just tasting you, feeling you rut against him, hearing your desperate moans -- all of it was enough to drive him crazy. But Eddie wanted more. He had held back for so long, now he wanted to savour it.
"You want me to what?"
You pouted, and one hand came up to grasp your jaw.
"Don't act like a brat. Use your words, or I'll get dressed and we'll go to the party right now. I'll let you squirm all night. Tell me what you want." He let go of your jaw and returned his hand to your hip.
"I want you to fuck me! I want your cock inside me."
It was a whine. A drawn-out, pathetic cry for him. Eddie smirked and, slowly, carefully, pulled you onto him. You were hot, wet, soft. So much more than he had imagined. You let out a moan, head tipped back, eyes shut, back arching. He bottomed out and paused, catching his breath. Your pussy throbbed around his length, and it was all he could do not to cum right then.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he panted, trying and failing to keep the arousal from his voice.
You nodded. "Mhm."
He moved his hips -- slowly at first, testing, teasing. Drinking in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, your fingernails digging into his forearms. But as you relaxed, as the tension melted from you as stinging subsided and became pleasure, his thrusts grew faster, harder. He grunted with effort, from the warm, tight sensation pooling in his lower abdomen.
The snow outside muffled all sound. There was only your moans, his gasping breaths, and the slap of your flesh against his. He released your hip and traced two fingers across your lips. You opened them, sucking the digits for a moment before he pulled away and circled your clit.
"Eddie," you groaned.
"You like that, sweetheart? You like it when I play with your pussy?"
You nodded, but Eddie hardly saw. He was too distracted by the way your tits bounced with every thrust. There was so much more he wanted to do to you. He wanted another taste of your cunt; he wanted to fuck your throat; he wanted to let you ride him. But right now, he was addicted to the way you moaned, the way you looked beneath him. He couldn't focus on anything else.
This was already more than enough.
"Eddie," you moaned again as he licked his fingers and returned them to your clit. "'m gonna cum."
"Do it, sweetheart. Let go and cum for me."
--
Your orgasm was so strong that your eyes shut, your back arched, and your fingernails scraped down his arms. Heat exploded from your core. You forced your eyes open, watching Eddie as he thrust wildly into your cunt, letting you ride out every dizzying wave.
"'m so close, Y/N. S-so clo-- f-fuck."
You felt his cock twitch inside of you. Eddie stopped rubbing your clit, which was already overstimulated from his attention, and gripped the sheets above your head to steady himself. Warmth filled you as he came, letting out a string of barely-intelligible cusses.
Eddie leaned forward, his forehead on the bed beside your head, panting hard. His wet hair fell over your shoulder. You lifted it, tucking it behind his ear. He was red there, and all over his chest, up his neck. He turned his head to you, smiling.
"Holy shit," he gasped.
You giggled. "My thoughts exactly."
His hands came to cup your face, and as he slid out of you, you both sat up. He held you, one arm winding around your waist. You flung your arms over his shoulders.
"You... You were okay with that?" he asked.
You scoffed. "No. I cried out in pleasure because I hated every second."
He pinched your cheek. "So. You wouldn't mind doing that again?"
You couldn't hold back your smile. "Yes! I, I mean, no, I wouldn't mind. I'd... I'd like that, I --"
Eddie's nose slid against yours, his lips inches away from you. How was it that moments earlier, he was inside of you, yet this felt more intimate? You tipped your chin up, letting your lips brush. He closed the distance, mouths meeting in a slow, deep kiss.
"Should we start now?"
He leaned back, studying your face with an incredulous expression. "I thought we were going to Harrington's party."
"I mean..." You lifted one shoulder. "If you insist."
Eddie shook his head. "Oh, no. I just got you, sweetheart; no way I'm giving you up that easy."
He pulled you down, on top of him, and both of you let out a laugh quickly cut off by another kiss. You could have stayed there all night in his bed. Your bed, really. You planned on being in it often enough, after all.
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piggyinthesea · 3 months
Text
Shoelace Theory
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would they tie your shoelaces?
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ғᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ɢʀɪᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ғᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴏsᴄᴀʀ ᴘɪᴀsᴛʀɪ, ᴅᴀɴɪᴇʟ ʀɪᴄᴄɪᴀʀᴅᴏ, ᴄᴀʀʟᴏs sᴀɪɴᴢ, ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀsᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ, ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ, ʟᴇᴡɪs ʜᴀᴍɪʟᴛᴏɴ, ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀɪss, ɢᴇᴏʀɢᴇ ʀᴜssᴇʟʟ, ᴘɪᴇʀʀᴇ ɢᴀsʟʏ, ʏᴜᴋɪ ᴛsᴜɴᴏᴅᴀ
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴊᴜsᴛ ғʟᴜғғ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴜᴅᴇɴᴇss
inspired by orange peel theory
Oscar Piastri:
What? No. You could tie your own shoes. He’s not gonna stop what he’s doing to kneel down and tie your shoes.
“But why?!” You groan, following him around the paddock with your shoes untied. Almost suddenly, you trip. If it wasn’t for Oscar swiftly catching you, you would’ve ate shit.
He begrudgingly kneels down, tying your shoes. “Next time, I won’t tie your shoelaces.”
It was a lie. He did tie your shoelaces the next time.
Daniel Ricciardo:
He’s in the middle of entering his racing car when you ask him does. He looks at you puzzled but then quickly kneels down and ties them. It didn’t surprise you though, his kids must ask him all the time.
You wished him good luck before being ushered out of the garage. After the race, he comes to you with his shoes untied.
“Can you tie them for me?”
Will be salty if you don’t tie them for him
Carlos Sainz:
You asked him in the post-interviews, shamelessly interrupting. He stammers, “Could you excuse me one moment?”. At first you thought he was asking you to excuse him, until he quickly kneels down and ties your shoelaces, giving a small smile as he looks up at you.
He gets back up, mindlessly running his hand through his hair.
“What’d you think of the race?”, Carlos asks you.
“Great results! Proud of you.” You quip, raising your hands and offering a high five in which he quickly reciprocates. He watches you walk away, until he’s knocked out of his trance by the interviewer he had forgotten was still standing in front of him.
Safe to say Carlos is not so great at hiding his little crush on you.
Max Verstappen:
You catch him lacking in the Red Bull garage, and his face falls as soon as he sees you. You were the grid’s prankster and your go-to victim was always Max.
“Leave me alone, please!” He feigns fear, holding his hands up while guarding his face. He flinches when you’re in front of him, leaving you with guilt for all those pranks you’ve played on max. You had the poor boy traumatized.
“Tie my shoestrings, pretty please!” Your words came out innocent. Max looked at you as if you had grown two heads.
Suddenly he stands up, raising a fist towards you, “Get out of here!”. Of course he wasn’t actually going to punch you, he was just pranking you back.
You clench a paper-ball in your back pocket. You slowly pull it out, and instantly throw it at him. You make a run for the door, and frantically start screaming “Help!” as you hear a pair of monster feet stomping behind you.
Charles Leclerc:
He had always been nice to you. Your conversations with him had always been friendly and extremely normal. So of course, when you asked he did it. No questions asked.
The two of you continue your conversation and end up splitting ways shortly after. A few days later, he came to you with a box of converse shoes, in your size.
“So you don’t have to ask people to constantly tie your shoes.” Charles stands by as he watches you open the box, a cute smile placed on his face. He had bought you strap on shoes. He genuinely thought you didn’t know how to tie your shoes.
You did develop a little crush on him because of this.
Lewis Hamilton:
No. He avoids you at all costs. Word had gotten around on the grid about you and your shoelaces. He refused to take part of this tomfoolery and when you asked him all he did was look straight in your eyes.
He stared at you silently. A few moments pass, and suddenly he books it and runs out of the Mercedes garage and leaves you there.
That man runs INCREDIBLY fast.
Lando Noriss:
He was waiting for you to ask him and nearly sheds a tear when you do. This boy feels incredibly honored tying your shoes.
“Why yes, Madam, I will tie your shoes.”
He definitely feels included and takes it as some sort of badge of honor being included in your pranks. He goes around telling everyone about how you asked him to tie your shoes but then he finds out how many people have already tied your shoes. He was under the impression it was only Max and Oscar who had tied your shoes already but when he found out Lewis, Carlos, Charles, and Daniel had already tied your shoes before him, he felt BETRAYED.
This man ignores you for three whole days because of how late he was included. You make it up for him by doing the one thing he loved, including him in pranks. He takes it extremely well when you surprise him by shoving a face in his cake randomly and sprinting away. He laughs and begins speaking terms with you again.
George Russell:
George Russell noticed your shoes. They weren’t regular ones, these were the strap on converse Charles had gotten you. It’s funny really, because somehow they still ended up unstrapped. How was that even possible? Wasn’t the strap made of Velcro or something?
Though there’s no possible way you could hurt yourself by having unstrapped shoes. He watches you for 10 minutes, engaging in conversations with Charles. He hyperfixates on that unstrapped shoe like it’s the end of the world. It irks him to no end.
Maybe it was an ocd thing, but he completely stops the conversation you and Charles had, to stick your strap onto the sticky part of the velcro.
“Your shoe wasn’t strapped.”
Pierre Gasly:
You CAN’T find him. It’s like he completely disappeared from the face of the world, and it sucks because this time you wore your regular laced shoes for the purpose of getting him to tie them.
I mean, he had to turn up at some point, for racing season. The day you finally saw him was during qualifying. Pierre was being interviewed and you took this as your opportunity to sneak up on him.
“Pierre, can you tie-”
“No. So anyways-”
Pierre completely shuts you down, and engages in the interviewers conversation. The interviewer gave you an awkward side-eye, luckily, Max overheard him and quickly runs to the rescue as your partner in crime.
He grabs a firm grip on Pierre’s neck from behind, “Mate, you’re gonna have to tie her shoes.” He adds slight pressure, enough for Pierre to oblige, but not enough to catch a case or a fine from the FIA.
Pierre kneels down with Max’s hand still on his neck and obediently ties your shoestrings. Max lets go of his hold on Pierre once he ties them, and gives you a high five ‘mission accomplished’ style.
Yuki Tsunoda:
Nope. Not unless you tie his shoes. He hears none of your complains and refuses to tie your shoes unless he gets something in return. Honestly, give him a piece of candy and he’ll do it. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn.
Why won’t he just tie your shoes? Totally not cool. What if you trip, hit your head, and end up in a coma for ten years? It would be entirely his fault.
You fill his mind with all these over exaggerated ways on how you could die by not having him tie your shoelaces. It doesn’t work on him and so you leave him be & angrily huff out the room. He finds himself rethinking all the ways you’ve stated you could have possible died. It’s kind of realistic falling and hitting your head ultimately ending with you in a coma. He begins to spiral and before he knows it his anxiety has taken over his mind. He sets out to look for you, walking into various empty rooms and starts searching even more frantically.
What if you’re already on the floor unconscious??
He whips open the ferrari’s garage door and finds you talking to one of the mechanic’s you made friends with. He looks down at your shoelaces, still untied. He rushes over, double knotting your laces and letting out a sigh of relief before leaving you confused.
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marvelsmylife · 14 days
Text
Begin again
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Plot: Azriel grants you your wish of being left alone for a while. The second the times up though, he starts his plan to win you back.
A/n this is the last part to Damned if you do, Damned if you don’t story. I would like to remind you that my requests are open (please try to send in fluffy or smut requests. I need to chill out on angsty stories for a while 😂😂😂)
Warning: fluff
Part One Part Two Bonus Scene
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Clinging onto the hope you gave him the night of the dinner party, Azriel gave you the space you asked for and settled with giving you three weeks. He was still a wreck during those three weeks, but he spent that time planning the perfect way to win you back. When the three weeks were up, he set his plan into motion.
It started out small. He was leaving you roses by your front door with a note that included a happy memory you shared. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memories he wrote down, from the first day you met to the first book he ever bought you just because he saw it and thought you might enjoy it.
You couldn’t believe he remembered the tiny moments you shared together and started feeling bad that you had been ignoring him for two years. You knew that any other male would have moved on if they were in Azriel’s position. Yet he stayed loyal to you, and while he was over the top while he begged for forgiveness he never once stopped fighting for you or your forgiveness.
He then resorted to the one thing he told Cassian he would never do, writing poems for you. Granted, they weren’t that great when he started writing them, but by the sixth week, he had you swooning by the time you finished reading the poem.
The best part was that he actually got help from some of your students. Every day, he would approach one of them and ask if they could hand you the poem and give you a beautiful set of either earrings or a necklace. The students would be excited that the spymaster of the night court asked them for a favor and were more than happy to deliver the poem, along with a few jewelry pieces.
Azriel would watch from a distance as you read the poem and held the piece of jewelry against your chest.
The next thing Azriel did was stop by the old dance studio you attended and properly apologize to your old instructor. He apologized for his actions and explained what drove him to do what he did.
Azriel was surprised when your old instructor accepted his apology and told him he would let you know that Azriel apologized to him. Of course, Azriel told him he didn’t have to do that, that he did it because it was the right thing to do. “The apology might be two years late, but at least you did it. Most males would never apologize in the first place, let alone an Illyrian male.”
Even though Azriel told him he didn’t have to, your old instructor stopped by your studio and informed you that Azriel apologized to him: “He seemed so remorseful for his actions. Do you ever plan on forgiving him?”
“I already have,” you confessed and started playing with the necklace Azriel had gifted you a few weeks back: “The thing is, I'm scared that he is going to resent me again and take his anger out my studio because I built a career out of something I’m passionate about. I love teaching dance too much just to go back to being the spymaster's mate.”
“Why can’t you be both?” your instructor pointed out: “Be the spymaster's mate AND an amazing dancing teacher.”
You went home that night replaying the conversation and wondered if your old instructor was right.
His big move came six months later. He had gotten wind that you were now providing private lessons for fae’s who were too shy to learn around other people. They would have to pay in order to receive those private lessons, but they were reasonably priced.
You thought others wouldn’t want to pay for private lessons after attending your other classes for free. You were surprised when all of your openings for private lessons were booked for the foreseeable future.
You were getting ready to teach someone late at night when you spotted Azriel walking through the front door: “Azriel! What are you doing here? I have a private lesson in five minutes.”
“I’m the one who requested the private lesson,” Azriel confessed: “Teach me everything you know about the thing you love the most.”
A smile formed on your face at Azriel’s request, and you were more than happy to oblige. You started teaching him the basics and were surprised at how fast he learned to dance. “Look at you,” you beamed at Azriel: “You’ll be a better dancer than me in no time.”
“Not possible,” Azriel stared lovingly at you.
By the end of the lesson, Azriel had his arms around your body, holding you close to him. He was enjoying having you in his arms after being denied it for years. “I’ve missed you so much, my love,” Azriel spoke into your hair before getting ahold of your chin and making you look into his eyes: “I am nothing without you.”
Azriel found himself staring at your lips and was tempted to lean in and kiss you, but he didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress he had accomplished thus far.
To his surprise, you were the one that pulled him into a kiss. He didn’t complain. As a matter of fact, he took control of the kiss immediately and had you pinned against the mirrored wall. 
You let out a soft moan at Azriel’s action and found yourself pressing yourself against his body, desperate for his touch. “I really am sorry for all the pain I have caused you these past couple of years,” Azriel whispered as he cradled your neck: “I never realized how much I needed you in my life until you left me. I was such a fool for saying such hurtful things to you.”
A small smile appeared on your face at Azriel’s apology: “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say. Thank you for apologizing and for all the flowers and poems you’ve sent me these past few months.”
“Can you come home now? Our house is not a home without you in it” Azriel begged, his scarred hands were now tangled in your hair.
“Yes, I will come home,” you replied before a mischievous smile appeared on your face: “But what do you say we spend the night here, just for tonight?” Azriel was going to question why you would want to sleep in your studio when you tapped on the mirror behind you. “You have always said it would be nice to fuck in front of a mirror. Well, we have one right here.”
“Have I told you how much I love you yet?” Azriel groaned before leaning in and capturing your lips again.
A/n. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a bonus scene with the reader, Azriel, and that mirror.
@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321 @pussyistasty-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @anuttellaa @pussyistasty-blog @fightmedraco @aunicornmademedoit @esposadomd @thelov3lybookworm @harrystylesfan2686 @sarawritestories @fxckmiup @sleepylunarwolf @mochibabycakes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @stargirl1714 @tenshis-cake @tele86 @63angel @sagskylar01 @i-am-infinite @kristin813 @one-big-fangirl
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fredwkong · 3 months
Text
Dr. Li, Hypnotherapist
Austin couldn’t see any other solutions than booking a session with the hypnotherapist. He knew that he’d been moping for weeks, so when his friend finally snapped and told him to get some help, Austin had taken the referral and gotten on Dr. Li’s waiting list.
His thirtieth birthday a few years ago had been a bit of a wake-up call for Austin. Years of overwork and poor diet were slowly reversing as he took better care of his body, and for the first time, he felt proud of his looks. He knew he had a long way to go, but he was hoping to attain proper hunk status before he turned forty. He knew that he gave off the impression of being a clean-cut, intelligent guy with a pretty classic sense of style and, he hoped, a charming personality.
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And yet, well, that hadn’t been enough to save his relationship.
Thankfully, the referral from his friend fast-tracked Austin up the waiting list, and a week or so later he scheduled his first appointment with Dr. Li and showed up at the low-key office just outside the financial district.
Sitting in the waiting room, listening to the burble of the little rock fountain in the corner, Austin found himself suddenly overwhelmed with second thoughts. He didn’t have real problems, after all. He was just being a baby about the breakdown of a 4-year relationship. Surely someone else could use this time better than him. Plus, what if he couldn’t do it? What if the hypnotherapy didn’t work for him? Dr. Li’s reviews were fantastic, but everyone underreported their failed clients.
Just as Austin was about to stand up and leave, the door of Dr. Li’s office opened to let out a cute young man with a blissful smile on his face. The guy blinked owlishly at Austin for a moment, his eyelids fluttering slightly, then he licked his lips lasciviously and drifted out the door.
A smooth, resonant, eminently masculine voice came from inside the office. “Forgive Terry,” it said, “he prefers to remain in trance for a few hours after our sessions. Please come in, Austin.”
Nervously, Austin stepped through the door to find a well-built Chinese man in a suit lounging in a comfortable armchair. Across from him in the office sat a long couch. It looked perfect for lying down on. The man, Dr. Li, had a few grey streaks at his temples, but still filled out his suit like a much younger man might. As Austin came in, he stood up, putting aside a small notebook that he had been writing in.
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“Welcome to your first session, Austin,” said Dr. Li in that smooth, rich voice, giving him a firm handshake. “Please have a seat on the couch and make yourself comfortable. Would you like anything to drink?”
Once the two of them were settled—Austin took a glass of water, while Dr. Li refilled a thermos of herbal tea—the hypnotherapist continued, “My job is to help you achieve your full potential and free your deepest desires. To do that, I will most likely put you into a trance to unlock your unconscious wishes and help your brain make important changes. But first, let’s just have a conversation. Tell me about yourself, Austin. What brought you into my office today?”
With cues from Dr. Li, delivered in his calm, almost musical voice, Austin found the story spilled out easily. His attempts at self-improvement had been dismissed by his boyfriend, then actively sabotaged as his boyfriend worried that Austin improving might cause him to move on. Finally, Austin had kicked him out, and then gone into a spiral of self-hatred that resulted in his friend recommending Dr. Li’s unique methods for achieving goals and moving past trauma.
As the conversation continued, Austin found that he spoke less and less as Dr. Li spoke more, voicing gentle encouragement and affirmations that seemed to resonate inside Austin’s head, crowding out distractions and thoughts. Austin’s eyelids fluttered as a tingling feeling washed over his body. He just felt…so relaxed. He should just listen to Dr. Li’s voice and sink deeper into this sensation. He should lie down on the couch. He should…
Sleep.
Wake up.
Austin’s eyes blinked open. He felt calm, refreshed, alert. He felt better than he had in a long time. I looked over at Dr. Li, struggling to keep his eyes from falling closed.
“Very good, Austin,” said the hypnotist, his voice causing a tingle of pleasure through Austin’s body. “You’re a natural at this.”
“I…am?” Austin’s voice came out fuzzy, surprising him. He felt so awake, but he couldn’t seem to think through anything. He just had to trust Dr. Li.
“Yes, you’re a very good subject.” Austin felt another tingle of pleasure. It felt good to be praised. “You told me some of your unconscious desires, and I think you have a lot of potential for us to unlock together. But to do that, we have to get you into an even deeper trance.”
Austin drifted for a moment before he felt the response bubble to the top of his mind. “Okay.”
“Very good.” Another twinge. “In that case, it’s time to sleep.”
“Fully awake now.”
Austin came awake with a deep breath. He lay in the feeling for a moment, savouring the deep calm in his body. Looking at his watch, he could see that over an hour had passed, but his memories past the first few minutes were hazy. He knew that Dr. Li had taken good care of him and should always be trusted.
“How do you feel, Austin?” Dr. Li asked, writing in his notebook. Austin thought he could see a dark spot in the crotch of the hypnotist’s slacks, as if he had been precumming while Austin was under, but Dr. Li was trustworthy and would tell him what he needed to know.
“I feel good.” There was just one thing bothering him: he couldn’t seem to get comfortable in his polo shirt. He fidgeted, pulling at it, but then he realised: it felt good to show off. He unbuttoned the neck buttons to reveal the top of his hairy pecs and immediately felt better. “What did we talk about?”
“It was a wide-ranging conversation,�� Dr. Li replied. “Of course, you know I will tell you anything important that happens while you are in trance.”
Austin nodded.
“We discussed some of your unconscious desires, and I began to implement a few triggers to help you unlock your true self. Would you like me to explain them to you?”
Austin thought about it. It didn’t seem too important to spend a long time talking about the specific triggers, since Dr. Li was so trustworthy. “Nah, I kind of want to be surprised,” he said.
“I thought you might be.” Dr. Li smiled, looking up from his notebook. “One of your unconscious desires is to be externally controlled while you’re along for the ride. I think that hypnotherapy will be a very good fit for you.”
Austin couldn’t help but agree. It felt good to have someone else at the wheel. There was something about listening to Dr. Li’s gentle, deep voice that made Austin certain that Dr. Li had his best interests at heart.
After scheduling weekly sessions with Dr. Li, Austin left the office and started driving home. But on the way, he had the sudden thought that he should go to the gym. Usually, he preferred morning workouts, but he figured that an afternoon session couldn’t hurt. However, he hadn’t thought to pack gym clothes when he headed out of the house earlier.
While Austin pondered what to do about his lack of gym clothes, he pulled into the parking lot of his gym. As he engaged the parking brake, he turned to see a set of neatly folded gym clothes, and a new pair of runners, sitting in the passenger seat. The instant he looked at them, he suddenly remembered Dr. Li handing him the clothes while he was entranced. He had carried them out to the car and placed them neatly in the passenger seat without even realising what he was doing.
He felt his cock starting to harden in his boxers. Being unaware of his actions was hot. Going to the gym was probably something Dr. Li had told him to do, as well. Austin grabbed the clothes and jumped out of his car, pumped to get into the gym.
In the locker room, though, he felt momentarily confused. Usually, he wore knee-length shorts and a loose T-shirt in the gym, but the clothes Dr. Li had given him were a pair of short-shorts and a tight-fitting tank top that stretched over his thick torso. He felt a bit self-conscious looking in the mirror, but then he remembered it felt good to show off. The judgment of the skinny bros at the gym didn’t matter, because he was going to show off just for him.
The workout felt incredibly good. Austin was totally focussed on lifting while he was in the weight room. No other thoughts entered his head except for setting up his next workout and getting his form perfect. He even jumped on the elliptical, because good cardio is just as important as a good pump. After a couple of hours went by in a blur, Austin found himself walking out the gym’s front door, pumped, sweaty, and full of a pleasurable thrilled sensation.
Later that night, Austin was maintaining his Animal Crossing island when he was overcome with a need to email Dr. Li. Putting the game aside, Austin grabbed his phone and composed an email:
Doctor, I had a great workout today. I got a good baseline knowledge of my strength and endurance for my future sessions. Thank you very much for the new clothes, it felt good to show off my body in more revealing clothes. Austin
Sending the email, Austin watched the screen for a minute without moving until he heard the ping of an incoming email with Dr. Li’s reply:
Good boy.
Austin’s eyes rolled back as he felt a wave of pleasure through his whole body. It felt good to be praised.
For the next week, Austin went to the gym almost every day before work. Without his conscious control, his body implemented a push/pull/legs split, and after three days in the gym, he would find himself without the urge to work out for a day. Instead, he went shopping for new gym clothes because it felt good to show off and his old clothes just didn’t show off his body as much as he wanted. While he was out, he also bought a few new button-up shirts that he thought would show off his chest.
Each night, Austin emailed Dr. Li in the same thread and received a short reply from the hypnotist. Usually, it was some variation of “Good boy,” which made Austin feel wonderful because of how good it felt to be praised. Austin remarked in one email that he had gone out with friends and had two portions at dessert before going out to drink, which he felt badly about. Dr. Li replied, “Do you want to talk about cravings and portion control at our next session?” Austin thought about it, but he trusted Dr. Li to have his best interests at heart, so he replied, “Yes.”
Dr Li’s answer to that was, “Good boy.”
Finally, Austin’s next hypnotherapy session arrived. As he sat down on the couch, he could already feel the urge to fall into a trance again. It would be so easy to follow Dr. Li’s commands and sleep.
Wake up.
This time, Austin had no memory of time passing while he was entranced. He was lying on the couch again, and Dr. Li smiled at him as he sat up. “That was a very good session, Austin,” he said, his smooth voice strangely rough. “You fell into trance almost before you sat down.”
Austin nodded. “I was really excited to be hypnotised again, Doctor,” he said. The word “doctor” felt strange on his tongue for some reason. It was Dr. Li’s title, but Dr. Li deserved Austin’s complete respect at all times, and “doctor” just wasn’t enough.
Dr. Li smiled, seemingly at Austin’s discomfort, but that couldn’t be true, because Dr. Li had Austin’s best interests at heart. “You noticed some significant lifestyle changes last week, and you will probably continue to find things changing this week.”
“Yeah, I’m really excited,” Austin paused, feeling a word on the tip of his tongue, and then said, “Sir.” That felt right. When he called Dr. Li “Sir,” Austin felt that tingle of pleasure in his body, the knowledge that he had done something correctly.
Dr. Li’s smile widened. “Good boy,” he said in a low voice.
Austin shuddered. It felt good to be praised. “Thank you, Sir.”
In the waiting room, Austin nodded to another one of Dr. Li’s clients, a sullen young guy in a tracksuit who slouched into the hypnotherapist’s office. As they passed each other, Austin watched the guy’s face slacken, falling into trance before he passed the threshold of the office.
Austin went to the workout he felt the need to complete, but when he sat back down in his car, winded, sweaty and red-faced in his compression gear from a hard sprint at the end of his run, he still felt the need to run another errand. After a moment, the thought came to him: he had to go get his food prep at the grocery store. Feeling pleased that Dr. Li had responded to his concerns about his eating habits, Austin pulled out of the parking lot.
Usually, Austin had trouble resisting the allure of buying a fresh muffin or some other sweets while he was grocery shopping, but today the thought of sugary food repelled him. Instead, he found himself drawn to the spice aisle, where he grabbed soy sauce and a selection of various spices he’d never tried before. His mouth watered at the thought of all the vegetables and lean meat he’d be seasoning for his meal prep.
While meal prepping that night, Austin slowly came to the realisation that Dr. Li had apparently replaced Austin’s sweet tooth with a craving for intense spices. The aroma of his cooking had him choking slightly, but he was excited to get used to his new diet. And instead of craving a beer after dinner, Austin found himself sitting down on the couch with Pornhub loaded and an insistent erection in his new yoga pants. Getting off was the best way to get over his breakup, he thought, and started to browse.
While he was watching a video of a jock getting dropped into trance by the school psychologist, Austin realised that he needed to email Dr. Li. Still jacking off with one hand, he grabbed his phone off the coffee table and typed one-handed:
Sir, My workout went well. I hit a new deadlift PR. I’m going to measure myself tomorrow to update you on the size of my muscles. Grocery shopping and meal prep went very well, and I appreciate my new substitute cravings. Austin
When Dr. Li replied, “Very good, you’re making great progress,” Austin came hard. It felt so good to be praised.
Over the next months, Austin’s life continued to get better and better with Dr. Li’s help. Every time he slept and woke up, Austin felt like he was becoming more and more the person he was always meant to be. He was making great progress at the gym and improving his body composition, he loved to show off, and he felt more able to have fun with his friends than ever before.
One night, about a month into working with Dr. Li, Austin was feeling really good about his body. Almost his whole wardrobe had been replaced, his old gym clothes with shorter cuts and compression fabrics, and his work clothes with tailored pieces that hugged his growing body. Halfway through his evening jerk, all Austin could think about was how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He ripped open his shirt and took a picture looking up his furry abs to his big pecs. He was so happy he’d decided to stop shaving.
He included it in his email to Dr. Li. His body was at least half the result of Dr. Li’s incredible hypnotherapy, so he figured the Doctor deserved to see the fruits of his labour.
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It was only when Dr. Li replied, “Are you thinking of posting that online? I think it might be a good idea,” that Austin realised just how much he wanted people to see his sexy body. He stayed up a little late to set up several accounts on different sites where he could show off.
A few days later, Austin’s ex messaged him, but Austin blocked him. Before starting with Dr. Li, he would have been overjoyed to hear from the guy again, but he was too good to be the property of just one man. Most days that he worked out, Austin brought home a guy from the gym to help him satisfy his need to get off. On off days, he might have a few friends over, especially the guy who had referred him to Dr. Li.
Sleep.
Wake up.
Austin was a bit surprised when he woke up in a moving car. He was really good at going into trance these days. When he went for his sessions with Dr. Li, he would go into trance while sitting in the waiting room and not wake up until halfway through his workout afterward.
He was sitting in the middle aisle of a minivan. In the seat beside him was his friend, Dr. Li’s other client, while in the back seat sat Terry, the cute twink from Austin’s first session, the sullen guy who had his sessions after Austin’s, and some huge bodybuilder guy in a stringer tank, probably another client.
Dr. Li turned around from his seat in the front. Beside him in the driver’s seat was a big, muscular man. “Good afternoon, boys,” he said, his smooth voice washing over all of them like a wave. “Thank you for agreeing to accompany me today.”
That was right, Austin thought. He would do whatever Dr. Li requested. It didn’t matter if he didn’t remember, Dr. Li wouldn’t have done anything without confirming that Austin wanted to do it.
The van pulled up and parked somewhere. Looking out the window, Austin could see they were in a different city. A few men walked past the van, all in various states of undress, most of them wearing some kind of gear. Austin knew that he wanted people to see his sexy body, because it felt good to show off, but he wasn’t really much of a gearhead. Why should he cover up his body with something like leather when he could just undress and show off his hairy muscles?
Dr. Li looked around at all of them. The driver, too, seemed to be in a light trance now that he had stopped driving. The hypnotist smiled at them. “Well, are you ready, kinky boys?”
Leather Boy Austin shook his head, his last thoughts slipping away. They couldn’t have been very important. Stepping out of the van, he pawed at his fitted shirt. It was soft linen, not nice, solid, warm leather, and he couldn’t stand the feel of it against his skin. He efficiently stripped out of it, nodding to Dr. Li when the doctor passed him his pink leather chaps. It was too bad that a leather boy like him couldn’t wear it all the time. He just didn’t feel right when his furry muscle bod wasn’t coated in sexy leather gear.
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As he sternly put on his gear, getting more and more into the leather boy mindset, Austin watched his rubber boy friend and the sullen sneaker boy get into their gear. The twinky pup boy Terry was yapping at the bodybuilder poser boy. Next to the van, Dr. Li was helping the husky pain boy put on his nipple clamps.
When they were all properly undressed, Leather Boy Austin helped Dr. Li herd the other kinky boys out into the street for the festival. The rest dispersed quickly, but Austin kept close to the hypnotist.
“I’m very glad to have you, Austin,” Dr. Li said, his voice once again resonating through Austin’s mind as they walked. “You were desperately in need of freedom from your own inhibitions when you first came to me. It took many sessions before you started to really blossom into the powerful young man I see before me.”
Leather Boy Austin puffed up his chest with pride at how good it felt to be praised. He was too stoic to respond effusively, but he grunted, “Thank you, Sir.”
“Oh, no need for formality between us now, Austin.” Dr. Li grabbed Austin by the elbow and jerked him around. Austin followed, because Dr. Li always knew what was best for Austin. “In fact, I think it’s time that I properly set you free.” The doctor grabbed Austin’s chin and roughly kissed him.
The kiss triggered all of Austin’s latent memories. He suddenly recalled all the hours of trance with Dr. Li, the careful programming of all his fitness habits, the thought patterns to make him show off and trust his hypnotist. He remembered how Dr. Li had installed the trigger to make him a kinky Leather Boy, but he could also knew that he could be triggered to be a flirty Dumb Boy, and a musky Ass Boy, whenever Dr. Li called him a flirty boy or a musky boy. He could taste the flavour of Dr. Li’s asshole on his tongue, from all the times that he had eaten him out while his triggers were implanted.
Most of all, he remembered loving every second of working with his hypnotist. Like Dr. Li had said at their first session, Austin wanted someone else to be in charge of him. It felt so good to be unknowingly under Dr. Li’s complete control, because he knew Dr. Li would take good care of him.
The sensation of his memories flooding back was so intensely erotic that Austin came into his leather chaps. He bucked into the kiss, tensing his muscles as his body was wracked with pleasure. Dr. Li held firmly onto his jerking body, and a few onlookers whooped and clapped. It felt so good to show off. Austin couldn’t believe that that thought had been implanted so deeply by the hypnotist in their very first session. The thought almost made him cum again.
Dr. Li pulled back from the kiss, and Austin felt two paths open in front of him. He remembered this session, too. These triggers were his own to think, just for himself. He could choose to remember all of the sessions, and he would remain lucid while under hypnosis in the future. He and Dr. Li would be equals from now on. On the other hand, he could lock all the memories away and go back to being unaware of the extent of Dr. Li’s influence over his mind, how the doctor could completely change his personality with a few words.
It was an easy decision.
Leather Boy Austin wasn’t sure how he had cum from a simple kiss from Dr. Li. He could recall that the kiss had been mind-blowing, but what he had been thinking about while they had kissed was hazy. Hopefully, the orgasm wouldn’t affect his performance at the orgy later.
“Thank you, Sir,” Leather Boy Austin grunted, smoothing his mussed hair back into place.
Dr. Li grinned at him in that slightly unsettling way of his. “You are a very good subject, Austin,” he murmured.
It felt good to be praised, Austin thought, shuddering with pleasure.
658 notes · View notes
uluvjay · 2 months
Text
Fall in love with you- T. Zegras
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Trevor Zegras x Best friend! Reader (feat. Quinn Hughes)
Summary: you knew Better than to fall in love with Trevor
Warnings?; angst, self-doubt, crying, asshole Trevor, cursing, Quinn comes to the rescue, this is extremely old and hardly proofread so I apologize for any errors!
Next part
You were Trevor’s best friend, your moms were best friends in collage leading to the life long friendship of you two.
You two had always been close even when he moved to Michigan for hockey you never drifted. He begged you to come to Boston with him for collage even though he only stayed a year and your had gotten into your dream school.
It was Trevor how could you say no?
That was a problem of yours never being able to tell him no. He wanted to go to a party even though you hated them? You went, wanted you to stay up late with him despite you having a big test the next day? You did it.
You always blamed it on the fact he was your best friend but everyone besides Trevor knew you were lying, they could all see how in love you were with him they just never brought it up.
The first person to call you out on those feelings was Quinn Hughes. Trevor had invited you to the Hughes lake house two summers ago where he constantly left you and was hardly even home most nights, usually with some random girl he met that day.
There had been an argument between you and Trevor, you blew up on him after he came home from another one night stand telling him if you knew you would be spending more time with the Hughes family and their other friends then him you wouldn’t have come in the first place.
He got offended saying he was allowed to have fun to even though that had nothing to do with what you were saying, after he stormed out of the room you were staying in you made the impulse decision to book a flight back to New York, and get the hell out of there but Quinn had caught you packing.
—-
“Hey you okay we heard you two yell- woah what’re you packing for?” He asked stopping himself mid sentence
“Im going home Quinn, thank you for opening your home to me I really appreciate it and you guys have all been so nice spending time with me while Trevor’s off with random girls every night”
“Wait, why are you leaving though? Did Trevor say something? I’ll go kick his ass right now if he hurt your feelings”
“No he didn’t I-I just can’t do this anymore, he begged me to come and of course I said yes like always just for him to pretty much say fuck me and leave me to be with some random girls who probably took pictures of him sleeping so they can post them an-“
“Your in love with him” he said cutting you off
“What? No Quinn, I’m not” you replied with a defensive laugh
“Don’t lie to me”
“Quinn I’m not”
“Cut the bullshit” he told you more stern shutting the door
“I’m not lying”
“Yes you are, I see the way you look at your phone when he lets you know he won’t be coming back, how you stare at the marks on his neck and back, how you stare daggers into all the girls that talk to him, the way your face lights up when he walks into a room, your in love”
“He can’t know Quinn, it’ll ruin everything” you told him looking down at your hands
“Hey, your secrets safe with me, but you can’t do this to yourself forever kid”
And that’s how You and Quinn also became best friends
—-
Fast forward two years and here you are back at the same Lake house in the same predicament. However over last summer you became good friends with most of the guys including Jamie and Mason who came with from Anaheim.
You Graduated from collage in May and got your degree in interior design, tonight Quinn and Jack were hosting you a small graduation dinner as they wasn’t able to attend your graduation along with some of the other guys.
You were standing in the Kitchen with Cole, Quinn, Jack, Trevor and Jamie who had all just come back from a workout.
“So Y/n you gonna come to Montreal and help me make my house look nice? I need some help decorating my shelves they don’t look good” Cole asked
“You can reach your shelves?” Jack asked causing everyone to laugh
“Shut up asshole” Cole replied
“Yeah Coley I’ll come help but I won’t be needing your stepladder I should be good” you said adding in to the joking
“You know what fuck all of you” he said walking off laughing
“Love you!” You called out laughing as well
“When he murders us all in our sleep I won’t be surprised” Quinn said causing everyone to let out light giggles
“Y/n what color you wearing tonight? I don’t wanna clash” Jack asked you
“You act like you won’t be wearing shorts and a random shirt ” you replied “but probably this white dress I bought a little while ago, I’m finally tan enough to wear it”
“You can’t wear white, the girl I invited is” Trevor blurted out looking at his phone
“Dude what the hell? I told you this was a lake house thing only, only the people staying here are allowed at the dinner, no extra invites” Quinn said getting a little pissed
“Aren’t your parents coming? Along with Luke, some of his friends, and y/n’s one friend? Why can’t my friend come”
“That’s our Family Z, they have a relationship with y/n and she knows Luke’s friends from them hanging around they’re like all madly in love with her” Jack said joining in
“Y/n’s fine with it right?” He said giving you the look he always did when he wanted something from you
“I’m not paying, it’s up to Quinn and Jack they organized the dinner” you said looking away
“Yeah so she’s not coming and if she for some reason does show up, she better not be in white, it’s Y/n’s night” Quinn said ending the conversation and walking out everyone else following besides you and Trevor.
“What the hell was that?” Trevor scoffed
“What?”
“You totally taking Quinn’s side!? Are you in a mood with me or something? Why can’t my friend come”
“Because I’m not paying Z, it’s not something i organized Quinn and Jack did, if I had it up to me we’d being having pizza and sitting around a fire not going to a fancy restaurant.” you told him growing a bit annoyed.
“Whatever” he mumbled stomping off.
Four hours later everyone was in a private room at some fancy restaurant in Michigan, in all it had ended up being You, The Hughes family, Cole, Mason, Jamie, Trevor, Dylan and Luca.
Trevor hadn’t spoken to you since earlier in the kitchen and hadn’t gotten off his phone since you guys had gotten to the restaurant.
Jamie and Mason had both said something to him multiple times but it just ended with Trevor giving both of them attitude.
You were talking with Ellen about the new things she had planted in their home garden when Trevor stood up and pocketed his phone walking out of the private room.
“Okay can I ask what the hell his problem is?” Ellen had asked loud enough for everyone to hear.
“I didn’t let him invite one of his little hookups and he got mad because Y/n took my side instead of giving in” Quinn explained.
“He hasn’t said a word to me since like noon either” Jack added.
“Okay this isn’t about him and let’s not make it about him, tonight is about Y/n and her achievements” Jim said shutting everyone up just in time as the food was being served.
Ten minutes later the door opened back up and in walked Trevor with a blonde girl.
You froze, was he serious right now? For one night he couldn’t listen and not go off and do what he wanted. You looked around and seen Jamie and Cole both rubbing their foreheads and looked next to you at Quinn who had his head titled back, then to your right to your best friend who looked like she was about to murder both Trevor and the blonde girl.
You returned to eating until you heard someone scoff and a chair scoot out, as you looked up you seen Jamie pulling Trevor out the room, leaving the girl in the room.
“And you are?” Ellen asked causing Luke and Jack to both let out slight laughs at how straightforward their mom was.
“Emma” she replied
“Mm” was all Ellen replied, she also knew about your feelings for Trevor
The door opened back up and in walked a pissed off Jamie which was a rare sight to see, and an annoyed Trevor.
“Everyone this is my girlfriend Emma” he announced and it got so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone looked from them to you.
Did everyone know about your feelings? Were you truly that noticeable when it came to how you acted around Trevor?
“Since when?” Mason asked
“Three months” Emma answered
Everyone just stayed quite, the tension could be cut with a knife and the amount of awkwardness was uncomfortable.
“I think it’s time to head home” you whispered in Quinn’s ear
“Yeah, I’ll go grab the check” he said getting up and walking out
“Where’s he going?” Trevor asked
“To get the Check” you replied
“Already? Is that what you whispered in his ear about? I’m not ready to leave you can’t just decide when we all leave Y/n”
“Well I’m ready to head home Trevor and it was my graduation dinner but you of course found a way to make the night about you” you snapped standing up and leaving.
Once everyone got home you went straight to your room and got changed into comfortable clothes, went down stairs, made a drink and went outback.
You were feeling a rollercoaster of emotions, you loved Trevor and he constantly hurt you but honestly it was your fault, you were the one that never told him how you feel how’s he supposed to know you wanna be the one in his bed every night?
You were also angry at him, how dare he pull the shit he did tonight at your graduation dinner of all things. You celebrated multiple achievements of his with him and never once made it about you, it just wasn’t fair.
You didn’t even realize someone had come outside or that you were crying until you heard someone ask you something.
“Huh?” You asked as you came back to your surroundings to see Jack sitting next to you.
“I asked why your crying”
“Oh it’s nothing” you rushed out wiping your tears
“Non of that Bullshit what’s up” he asked
“I love Trevor, no I’m in love with him, have been since I was 17”
“I know” he replied nonchalantly
“What?!”
“It’s not hard to notice y/n, your pretty bad at hiding it” he said with a laugh
“You don’t think he noticed do you..”
“No he’s to stupid” he told you laughing again
“Good, I just don’t know what I’d do if he found out I was in love with him, we’ve been best friends since we were born it would ruin everything.”
“You’re in love with me?” You heard the person that shouldn’t be asking that question ask it.
“Shit” you mumbled closing your eyes
“I’m gonna head back inside” Jack said getting up and patting your shoulder
“I asked you a question Y/n, please tell me you’re talking about someone else you’ve been friends with since kids.”Trevor said
“No it’s you, I love you” you said in a low voice
“What the Fuck” he said with a laugh
“I know, I know I’m sorr-“
“Sorry doesn’t cut it Y/n! Do you know what this is going to change? Everything! Our whole lives, every moment we’ve ever shared, it’s all different now”
“I know that’s why I never said anything, I knew you wouldn’t feel the same” you mumbled
“Damn right I don’t feel that way”
“Can you not be rude right now?, you listened in on a conversation you had no business hearing and now you know information that just ruined our friendship, I don’t need you being an ass”
“Why? Why me y/n?”
“I don’t know Trevor! I ask myself that every single day, why you, why my best friend? And I don’t have an answer ” you told him.
“You should have known better”
“It not like I wanted to fall for you Trevor, it’s not like I hoped and wished that I’d fall in love with you and ruin a 22 year long friendship.”
“We need space, I need space y/n I don’t know how to feel about this.” he told you
“I’ll find the next flight to New York tomorrow and be gone” you told him walking past him and into the house.
As you were laying in bed you heard someone knock on your door, “come in” you said with a hoarse voice from crying
“Hey I just wanted to check in, Jack told me what happened” Quinn said walking in
“It was so bad Quinny” you said breaking down again.
“No, don’t cry, it’ll be okay y/n” he said sitting next to you and rubbing your back
“I’m leaving tomorrow” you told him
“Why?”
“He said he wants space so I’m gonna go home, I think it’s for the better you know getting away from him”
“Don’t go home, let’s go somewhere”
“Where?” You asked with curiosity
“A beach?”
“That sounds nice”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah” you said looking up at him with a smile
—-
Next part
735 notes · View notes
nolovelingers · 8 months
Note
hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?
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TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧
ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-
headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking
——————————————————————————
 SFW !!
TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.
there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.
so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.
he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.
the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.
at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.
if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.
you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.
even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.
he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.
he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.
he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.
obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?
tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.
as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.
his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.
id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.
this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.
it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.
and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.
if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.
if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.
there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.
langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.
and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.
jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.
to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.
tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”
tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)
the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.
he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.
he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.
overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.
recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.
tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.
if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.
of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.
as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.
his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.
he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.
NSFW !!
tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.
he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.
(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.
(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.
(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.
he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.
when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.
he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.
but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆���˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!
started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.
©️nolovelingers 2023
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madame-fear · 2 months
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Hi i was wondering if you could write an nsfw head cannon of jacaerys and his wife reader and what their intimate life is like, and like talk about stuff they do.
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
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˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, smut + slight fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : : jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader
WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; p in v, unprotected sex, sex from behind, bootfucking, breast play, creampie, slight mentions of mirror sex, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of you riding him, praising, slight mentions of spanking.
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: ̗̀➛ Okay, so, for starters. Your intimate life naturally came after you were both officially married, and the bedding ceremony came. To respect your privacy, the two of you already had a chamber of your own to share, and you would be able to be as intimate as you wished.
: ̗̀➛ Initially, Jace would’ve been very soft and delicate with you. It’s in his gentleman nature to be careful, especially with the woman who was now his wife, and he so adored. Things would’ve gone slowly, but surely. And perhaps, there would’ve been a bit of foreplay and kisses before starting anything.
: ̗̀➛ Jace would press sweet, teasing pecks all across your cheek, going down to your jawline, focusing on giving your neck attention with his kisses — especially in a particular spot of your neck where Jace notices it makes you squirm and gasp —, and goes to your collarbone, savouring your skin with each peck.
: ̗̀➛ All the while, of course, Jace’s hands softly move behind your back, playing with the laces of your nightgown as he leisurely unties them, letting your gown become loose from your body, and fall from your shoulders. Being the gentleman he is, of course, Jacaerys would constantly ask you if you’re feeling comfortable with what he’s doing, if you want him to stop, or keep going; all with the most sweetest voice you’ve ever heard.
: ̗̀➛ His coffee eyes would look up at you admiringly, just like a fascinated puppy. You don’t want him to stop any sooner — if anything, the way he teased your skin by pressing soft kisses and caressing it leisurely with the tip of your fingers, merely got you all wet and needy for him. To which, you gave him the green light to keep going.
: ̗̀➛ And my god, you didn’t regret it. The second you approved for him to keep pleasing you, his hands rather desperately pulled down your gown, low enough to just expose your breasts. His mouth immediately took your hardened nipple in a delicate manner, using his tongue to tease it very lightly, and his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin to leave some lovemarks, using his hands to pinch, twist, and rub your nipples.
: ̗̀➛ Pretty little hushed whimpers & moans would continuously escape from your lips as your eyes flutter shut, and you throw your head back; feeling your cunt grow wet and needy. Each sound that spurred from that beautiful mouth of yours, simply made Jace grow harder for you, with an overwhelming need to fuck you right there, and make you shout loudly his name for everyone to hear who you belong to.
: ̗̀➛ And so he did. By the time Jacaerys had already feasted a bit too much on your delicate skin and sweet breasts, his mouth abruptly pulled away from your tits after some minutes, making you gasp, and his firm yet gentle hand pushed you onto your back against the mattress, getting on tip of you, and fucking you fervently throughout the entire night, cumming in and out of your body several times.
: ̗̀➛ After such lovely bedding night, getting lovingly yet roughly fucked by the eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would’ve gotten more and more used to explore your intimacy together - whether it’s privately, or... Even publicly, being a bit more bold.
: ̗̀➛ Jacaerys absolutely adores having you all submissive & needy, as much as it pains him to hold himself back from taking you right there all for him. So, whenever he’s either studying, reading in High Valyrian, or simply reading a book - he will absolutely have you sitting on the floor, whining and begging for him to take you.
: ̗̀➛ You look beautifully endearing just like that, and Jace will tease you by making you sit on top of his boot, and rubbing your needy moist cunt, bootfucking you. Continous desperate whines would escape from you, begging for him to fully take you - but not just yet. Jace prefers having you clinging to his leg, and seeing how you rub yourself with the tip of his boot.
: ̗̀➛ Jace always knows exactly what you like, and what you need. And he keeps the perfect balance between roughness, and gentleness at the same time. Part of him loves treating you as if you were the petal of a rose, or made of glass - delicately and lovingly. And another part of him simply wants to fuck you like a whore, like you need and want to get fucked, rough and disgusting. This, however, doesn’t mean he will not respect the boundaries you’ve set for each other, and afterwards, he will always ask you if you’re okay, and feeling comfortable.
: ̗̀➛ Sex from behind happens often, and I dare to say it’s one of his favourite positions, after having you riding him. The feeling of you becoming weaker with every pound of cock buried deep inside your pussy, continously hitting your soft spot. Expect his hands to always firmly grip your waist violently in a possesively controlling manner... Or, perhaps, one of his hands gropping your breast while he plays with your stimulated nipples. That feels pretty good for both of you.
: ̗̀➛ And speaking about sex from behind! During this position, I can imagine he would like fucking you right in front of a mirror, making sure to change the speed in which he penetrates you just to see the different expressions in your beauteous features. His hand would hold your chin occasionally, forcing you to stare at yourself through the mirror being fucked by him, as he whispers just how much of a good girl you are, taking his cock so well and obediently.
: ̗̀➛ One of his many favourite things to do in bed, is having you go down on him, and him going down on you. The way your hand forms a fist around his throbbing cock, gently masturbating him as your lips press delicate smooches on his leaking tip, moving your mouth all the way down to his cock with small kisses until you decide to finally take him in your mouth makes him go absolutely feral for you.
: ̗̀➛ It would take Jacaerys all the efforts that he has to not grip harshly from your hair, pulling it back, and violently face fuck you until you’re deepthroating his shaft and maybe even gagging a bit. It hurts not doing so, but he prefers to treat you like the true future Queen you are. The way in which your tongue strokes his cock leisurely while you’re going down on him with your mouth provokes him to loudly groan, and chant your name under his breath. As expected, his semen spurs all over the inside of your mouth, your tongue, and the roof of your mouth.
: ̗̀➛ Or, if he’s feeling a bit too aroused, he will quickly pull out from your mouth at the feeling of his seed being released, and come all over your precious lips, chin, neck, and chest. The sight of his own cum dripping from your chin and neck, some sticky drops falling to your tits, is enough to make him feel proud of himself. You’re all his.
: ̗̀➛ And when Jace has to go down on you? Man, he for sure knows how to take your aching pussy. His hands would be harshly gripping your hips, as his plump lips press playful kisses all over your inner thighs, moving upwards until he meets with your wet core.
: ̗̀➛ There, he would sweetly place kisses all over your moist folds, working up until he meets your glistening clit. He would then carefully rub the rim of it, and slowly work his way in to meet your throbbing core. His tongue would flick against that sensitive spot, and then he would move his mouth back towards your entrance, where he would suckle at your slit, selfishly drinking from your dripping slick while he eagerly fingerfucks you.
: ̗̀➛ It’s just as if Jace knew exactly how you like to be treated; pampering each bit of your sensible core with such fervent adoration. Jace does it like nobody else does, and you can go down on him like nobody else as well. You’re the perfect match.
: ̗̀➛ The eldest Velaryon Prince would also absolutely adore having you riding him. Especially because you tease him by telling him that you’re finally learning on how to properly ride a true dragon... And because he likes the way your tits bounce when you’re on top of him. And, of course, the sight of the bruises Jace leaves on your hips after firmly holding you down on him is also a very pleasant one.
: ̗̀➛ Jace knows how to treat you when you’re such a good girl for him, so obedient — and he will be so gentle, loving, and adoring. But when you’re a bit feisty with him, thinking that you can misbehave around him, Jace will never doubt on having you laid all across his lap, harshly spanking your ass until your flesh is red and swollen, occasionally rubbing his palm across your aching cunt teasingly.
: ̗̀➛ And when you accept your punishment, his pulsating cock would fill you up so delightfully. Pounding violently in and out of you continously, making sure his cock hits deeply against your G spot just to have you shaking, whining, and whimpering under him. Seven Hells, the way you moan his name in that ruined state is so, so pretty. And Jacaerys would cum several times inside of you, to the point you would feel comfortingly and overwhelmingly warm, until his hot semen is oozing out of your abused pussy, dripping down your inner thighs.
: ̗̀➛ I think Jace would pretty much be up to anything. Want to be tied to the bed while he fucks you and you can’t do anything about it? Sure, he will do as you please. Want to be choked? Okay! Jace will be happy to oblige. Want to be tendered softly, and fucked with love and adoration as he praises you in between kisses? Say no more. Jacaerys absolutely adores you, and that’s an understatement.
: ̗̀➛ Your sex life will be pretty much open to anything, and of course, his only focus will be in making you feel satisfied, comfortable, and loved. Jace would never do anything to get hurt you or make you uncomfy. 💗
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♡ taglist : ♡
@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @hopelesswritergall @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1
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lovelytsunoda · 3 months
Text
i can't get no satisfaction // mick schumacher
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summary: camping out in the library after hours, and too stressed to retain information, the student librarian has an idea about how take all of that stress away. and it doesn’t involve reference books.
pairing: college librarian!mick x student reader
warnings: sex in a library, semi-public sex, this is so fucking filthy, mick is a sweetheart but he has a dirty fucking mouth. mentions of masturbation and sex toys. why does this man bring out the feral in me? the terms ‘librarian’ and ‘sir’ used in a sexual context (but in a playful way…for the most part)
authors note: now tell me why I can add a song here but tumblr won’t let me add ‘shallow’ as a song link to my angsty top gun fic and I had to publish it without?
there was a reason she always picked that table. a reason she’d started coming to the library in tight tops and cutoff shorts.
it gave her the prime viewing across the old library, beyond the green tiffany lamps, at the perfectly coiffed head of of blonde hair that rested behind the check in desk.
mick fucking schumacher. he was the reason most girls came to the library, if she was to be honest.
however, there was no time for that today, astronomy textbooks strewn across her table as she poured over star charts. she didn’t realize how late it had gotten, her test review notes only half filled out and an exam creeping up on her.
her ballpoint pen trailed across the computer paper as she recorded the names of the main theories behind how the moon formed, mumbling to herself in an attempt to remember the facts better. she had one Bluetooth earbud in, playing jazz music softly to prevent her mind from wandering.
it was all hands on deck if she wanted a chance in hell of passing her elective course.
two hands clapped down on her shoulders. she started, yelping as her pen trailed a thick black line across her page before clattering to the floor. heart racing, she yanked her headphone out, head whirling to see who had interrupted her.
“oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.”
mick. he stood behind her, clad in tight black slacks and and untucked dress shirt, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to just before his elbows.
and, oh god, were her nipples perking up underneath her halter top?
“no, no, I should have paid more attention.” her voice was shaking, cracking slightly. “did you need something?”
“we closed like, fifteen minutes ago.” mick said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to disturb you, but I’m not getting paid overtime and I kind of wanted to go home.”
she sighed, massaging her forehead wrinkles with her fingertips. “yeah, okay. sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was getting.”
her stomach sank to the floor. she felt guilty for keeping him, and a sense of crushing dread when she realized how little information she really retained.
and under the student librarians gaze, his stunning ocean eyes boring holes into her skull?
she’d be damned to admit it out loud, but she felt horny as hell. she was so stressed with exams, and so wired from trying to study that masturbation was the only way she could get herself to go to sleep: tire out the body, and the mind will follow.
but her fingers didn’t cut it any more, nor did the tiny vibrator her roommate made her buy on a whiteclaw-fuelled trip to the local spencer’s.
“okay, just give me a second and I can help you put all of these away. I feel bad for keeping you now.”
mick helped her gather her things and tidy the table, offering her a metal shelving cart to load full of all the textbooks she didn’t need. they moved in an awkward silence as the blond reshelved the books and she pushed the cart.
“so, astronomy?” mick clicked his tongue, shelving a book on star charts.
“yeah, it’s a shitty fucking elective, that’s what it is. it’s causing me more stress than my actual subject major.” she snorted, sliding a few other books into the shelf. “I’m pre-law, but I’m not even sure if law school is what I want any more. right now, I just want to shut down, if I’m being honest.”
she stepped back from the shelf, moving to go around the cart when mick spoke up.
“so is that why you barely looked in my direction today?”
she stopped cold, her foot thudding against the side of the heavy metal cart. she bit back a curse, stumbling as mick caught her, pressing her body up against the shelving cart.
“I know you have a crush on me. I think it’s cute. you’re cute.” his voice was husky, and there was barely any space between them. her heart was beating faster, heat rising in her cheeks. “there’s a reason I always work at that desk too. seeing you makes my day.”
he was so close to her that she could have kissed him if he wanted to. all she would have had to do was press up on her toes to match his height, and gently touch her lips to his.
“don’t hide from me, pretty girl.” mick whispered. “I know how pent up you are, I can see it in the way your body responded as I ran my hands over your back. I want to help you. let me help.”
she swallowed, thoughts racing as she gripped his arms, looking up into his cobalt eyes.
she needed this.
needed him.
“yes.”
when mick kissed her, it felt like all the air was leaving her lungs. he was intoxicating, the heady scent of his cologne overwhelming her senses. she moaned into the kiss, aching and longing for human contact.
“my sweet girl.” he mumbled, trialing kisses up her jaw and over behind her ear, hands coming up to knead her sensitive breasts as she leaned back against the shelving cart. “when was the last time someone treated you right?”
“s-six months.” she stuttered, panting heavily.
it was pathetic, mick had barely even done anything and she was seconds away from whining for him.
he clicked his tongue, gripping her waist and pushing her back further against the cart. a few reference books fell to the floor, but neither student noticed. his breath was warm against her ear, the tip of his nose brushing her cartilage and making her shiver.
“that’s just won’t do. whenever you came in here, I bet you were thinking about sitting under my desk and using your cute little mouth the keep my cock warm.”
noticing how her body tensed up, the boy changed his tune. “or maybe you’re not into that. maybe you just wanted me to whisk you away to the rare book room and press you up against the bookshelf, have my way with you. our dirty little secret”
ah, yes. that was the reaction he was looking for, her thighs clenching at the thought as he slotted his knee on between her legs.
“that’s my girl.” mick cooed as she grinded against his thigh. “you just need my cock to fill you up, don’t you? those fingers of yours just aren’t the same, are they?”
she opened her mouth to respond, forehead resting against his, when she leaned back too far, the cart tumbling out from behind her.
mick caught her by the waist, smoothly spinning around and returning her to her feet, ignoring the toppled cart. nose to nose, the absurdity of the situation dawned on her.
and she laughed.
and he laughed with her.
that was what she needed from a man. someone who could laugh with her, even during their most intimate of moments, someone who let all the best parts of his non-bedroom personality shine through while also knowing exactly what she needed him to say to get her off.
a gentleman.
and that’s what mick schumacher was.
he carried her bridal style back to the long mahogany table, placing her down gently and sweetly before giving her a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing the seam of her lips.
“so, pretty girl, the ball is in your court now.” mick began, taking her warm hands in his cold ones. “whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.”
“I mean, I’ve heard the rare book room is super sexy. the smell of old books is like an aphrodisiac for me.” she said in a sing-song voice, thinking about his teasing from earlier. “then again, so are the vaulted ceilings in here.”
“I bet I could make you come so hard for me that you can see those stars on the ceiling fresco with your eyes closed.”
“wanna bet, pretty boy?” she was confident in her decision, but there was still nervousness behind her eyes.
she’d felt the way his dick pressed up against the seams of the zipper on his slacks. taking it was going to hurt.
he kissed her nose softly, fingers reassuringly rubbing circles on her skin. “I’ve got you, princess. you just need to relax and let me fuck all of that stress out of your pretty little head.”
she kissed him again, one hand on either side of his neck as she tried to press her body up against his, body flushed with need.
he gently turned her around, guiding her body so that she was bent over the table, the wood cool against her body.
mick playfully smacked her ass over her denim shorts.“such a pretty girl for your librarian, aren’t you?”
instead of the expected response, mick was delighted to get a laugh out of her. her giggles made him high, heat rising on his skin.
“was that supposed to be sexy?” she giggled, one hand reaching behind her to cradle his, thumb passing over his knuckles.
“maybe.” mick chirped. “baby, you’ve gotta let me have my other hand so I can get your shorts off.” she let go of his hand, allowing his smooth fingers to undo the button and gently draw the denim down her legs. “and for the record, I think that librarian is a damn sexy title.”
“but it’s not really a title.” she laughed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her body, massaging the flesh of her ass before tugging her cotton panties to the side.
he smacked her ass again, cock perking up at the tiny moan she let out. “it can be whatever I damn well want it to be, princess.” his voice was playful, and it made her wet to no end.
she needed this adorable idiot to fuck her.
now.
there was little warning as he slipped two fingers into her, the cold of the rings on his fingers making her squeal as he started to flex his digits.
his fingers were so fucking long. they felt so much better than her own fingers did, that was for sure.
“that’s my pretty girl, taking my fingers like a goddamn champion. you’re fucking dripping, princess.” mick cooed, moaning at the sight of her arousal running down his wrist, the sound his fingers made as he scissored them inside of her. “atta girl, so good for your librarian, aren’t you?”
“yes.” she panted, bucking her hips against his fingers with a cry, reaching back to grab his free hand with the hand that wasn’t holding her steady on the desk. “oh, fuck, sir.”
god, she needed this. and for a nerdy guy, he sure fucking knew how to use his fingers.
she felt his hand come down on her ass again. “what did you call me?” his voice was light, with the hint of a smile behind it. “I want you to say it again, princess.”
“mhm, yes sir, please, I need more.” she exaggerated the moan, a playful smile on her face as she played right into micks hands.
she liked this banter they had going, this carefree way of looking at something most people took so seriously. no, this was an experience that felt uniquely her whereas other guys she had been with just did what they always did, not caring about what she needed to get off.
but with mick, yes, that dominant demeanour was still there, but in a gentle ‘let me take care of you’ way.
and that was sexy as fuck.
she whined as mick withdrew his fingers, tapping her side with two of his fingers. “turn around, pretty girl. I don’t like not being able to see your stunning face.”
while her thighs tingled, her chest bloomed with affection and love at the thought that mick thought she was pretty.
and it was true. the library was dim, the warm lighting from the tiffany lamps framing the flyaways from her hair and the pink in her cheeks. the cupids bow of her lips, and that gorgeous fucking smile.
he was so down bad for her, it made his cock ache.
she perched on the edge of the desk, wincing and attempting to hide her embarassment at the wet patch she was leaving on the old table, the unshaven landscape of her thighs (and between her legs).
goosebumps rose on her arms as she watched mick lick her juices off her fingers, moaning at the taste like it was his favourite thing in the world. sensing the goosebumps, he ran his hands up her arms to warm her up.
“you decide how far we go tonight, love. how many orgasms do you want?”
oh fuck.
mick laughed sweetly, seeing the overwhelmed look on her face. he kissed her forehead tenderly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “how about we start with one and see you feel from there.”
“yeah. I’d like that.” she answered shyly, feeling the cold creep in.
the old library was drafty, yet kept to a very specific temperature. she expected to be overheating from how hot this encounter was, but alas, the air conditioning system just had to go and ruin it
“here.” mick said softly, undoing his shirt to expose the silver chain that rested below his sternum, a pendant with an orthodox saint carved into it.
he undid the shirt slowly, allowing her ample time to rake her prying eyes over every perfectly sculpted part of his body, right down to the tent in his pants.
sliding the shirt fully off, he used both hands to drape the soft fabric over her body. she swooned at the motion, letting him flip the collar up against her neck.
“don’t want you catching a cold now, do we, sweet girl?” he said sheepishly, his face flushed pink and a sheen of sweat on his abs as he cupped her face, leaning in to kiss her softly.
“mick.” she whined. “I need you now. I’m aching for my librarian to make me feel good.”
“I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you.” he hummed, undoing the button on his slacks. he pushed down his boxers, erect cock springing to life.
“holy fuck.” she hummed.
his dick was impressive. all seven thick inches of it, resting against her thigh when she opened her legs and pulled him closer. she wasn’t even sure if it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but if it was, micks cock was the very definition of the word.
“so wet for me. I’ll slide right on home.” mick said, gripping his cock in one hand and running it all along her slicked up opening. now she knew her goosebumps weren’t from the cold, but from the anticipation of what was to come next.
“please, I need your cock.” she whined.
“whatever my girl wants, she gets. you just relax and let your librarian fuck all those little worries away.”
he slid in slowly, letting her adjust to take him inch by inch. the stretch burned slightly, and she found herself opening her legs wider with every inch. she had a white-knuckled grip on the table, her breaths coming out in a mixture of strangled moans and pants.
when he finally slid fully in, his heavy balls resting against her ass, she opened her eyes and changed a look down at where they connected, a moan leaving her mouth.
“that’s just what you needed, isn’t it love? a fat cock to fill you up and make you feel good.”
it was a question he didn’t expect an answer from as he started to thrust in and out of her, hands gripping her thighs to pull her in.
“oh, god!” she whined throwing her head back, breasts bouncing under her top as mick slammed into her. “feels so good, mick.”
“that’s my girl.” his voice was low and husky, but also soothing. his hands on her body was a grounding presence.
her fingernails scraped down his chest, leaving pink marks in their wake as she moaned, babbling incoherently about how good mick was making her feel.
it was heavenly. he overwhelmed every one of her senses. it was an out of body experience, if she was being honest. something out of her wildest dreams.
mick kissed her again, groaning into her mouth as he pistoned his cock in and out of her. she was practically dripping everywhere, but had no time or energy to worry about the mess she was making.
all she could think about was how good she felt with mick inside of her.
“just breathe, darling. you’re doing so fucking good for me.”
he shifted her position on the desk, maneuvering one of her legs over his shoulder. she yelped in pleasure, nails sinking into his shoulders as she screamed a curse.
“fuck, that feels so good!”
the new angle was dizzying, his length brushing up against her spongy walls with every thrust. her eyes rolled back and her vision went blurry from pleasure as she meweled under his touch.
“that’s it, pretty girl. come for me. come for your librarian.”
“oh, fuck, mick, I-“ her words tapered off into a hearty moan, micks shirt lying in a puddle behind her as she wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her head in his chest as she came with a cry of his name, tears leaking from her eyes. “mick.”
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” mick cooed, kissing her forehead as he slowed his thrusts, gently working her through her orgasm. “there we go, you’re safe here. just breathe with me, can you do that, princess?”
she nodded, out of breath as mick gently eased her achy leg off his shoulder and back down to the table. he slid out of her, and the empty feeling made her whine. he gently shushed her, covering her face in kisses.
“mick, you never finished.” she pouted
“don’t worry about it, princess. this was about you. all that mattered to me was that you got your earth shattering orgasm.”
she rolled her eyes, reaching for his still-hard cock. “let me do something nice for you, dumbass.”
and who was mick to complain when she was doing such a good fucking job stroking his cock? her hands were smooth and soft, and the angelic way that she looked up at him, that sweet smile on her swollen lips while her hands worked him to the edge?
within minutes he was bellowing, spurting thick measures of come over her hands and down her arm, his entire body shaking.
“Jesus Christ.” he muttered. “you’re good at that.”
“when you hate giving blowjobs, you learn how to give a damn good handjob.” she smiled softly, unsure what to do with her sticky hands.
mick scooped her up gently, carrying her away from the desk and down the long hall to the staff bathroom. “come on, love. let’s get you cleaned up.”
after they were somewhat presentable (because, after all, there’s little you can do about the flushed skin and sex hair when you’re still in a public library), they gathered the last of their belongings and started to shut the library down for the day.
“what about the shelving cart?” she asked shyly, gesturing to the cart they had knocked over.
mick laughed. “I don’t work tomorrow, so it’s someone else’s problem.”
she watched with a soft smile as mick turned all the lights in the old building off, before he linked his arm with hers and they began the walk out of the parking lot.
“I hate to sound presumptuous,” mick began “but you’ve been here all day and I haven’t seen you leave to get food or anything. you must be starving. there’s an all night diner about two blocks from here, and I’d like to treat you to dinner.”
she smiled, kissing his cheek. “I’d love that, mick. thank you.”
and they both knew that this was going to be the start of something wonderful.
as soon as exams were over, of course.
the rest of the student body’s female population was not going to be happy when they showed up at the library and found that y/n y/l/n had finally captured their librarian’s heart.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @twinkodium @thatsdemko @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck
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trashywritestrash · 1 month
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Short and Sweet
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Word Count: 853
Warnings: Best friend’s brother— is that a warning? This is just a short lil thing for Valentine’s Day
A/N: The poem and response in this came from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828 but I needed ideas, okay? Also, I wrote this when Bridgerton was still the lead in the poll lol
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Living beside the Bridgerton household had many advantages. Being close in age to Daphne gave you the perfect excuse to spend time with her. However, spending time with Daphne meant also spending time with the rest of her family, which allowed you to form a close bond with them all. One Bridgerton in particular being Benedict.
Benedict was a few years older than you, but within a perfectly reasonable range that made it acceptable for you to fancy him. How could you not? He was sweet and sensitive, but he had a playful side that brought joy any time you were fortunate enough to witness it. Although, you never dared to dream that Benedict might return your affections. You were the best friend of his younger sister, surely he would not think of you in that way.
Initially, you had been excited to be presented before the queen and sent out into society. But while Daphne had been deemed the season's incomparable, you had fallen into her shadow. You were happy to see your friend receive many visitors and gifts, but some days it would hurt to see a line of men outside her door while you waited in an empty sitting room.
Waking on Valentine's Day brought nothing but sorrow. It was only one month into the social season and you already felt that you were destined to become an old spinster. With no prospective husbands in sight, you would likely have to face a second season. You did not expect that you would receive any callers that day, yet you waited in your sitting room in a fine dress, as you did every other day. Your mother sat in a chair at the far end of the room, leisurely reading until something would happen.
Early into the day, your butler entered the room with a calling card in hand, "A Mister Bridgerton is here to call upon Miss Y/L/N."
"Send him in," You replied, feeling your chest constrict. It was possible that one of Daphne's brothers had come to pass along a message for her, but a gentleman visiting while you were accepting callers still brought you a shred of hope.
Moments later, you saw Benedict step through the doorway, holding something behind his back. He smiled, "I see I have gotten here before the rest."
You returned his smile, nervous, yet calmed by his presence. "I think you will find that the gentlemen are coming to your door today, not mine."
"Then they are fools and I am lucky to have you all to myself."
"What can I do for you, Benedict? I find it hard to believe you would be here as a suitor." You spoke the words in jest, but felt your throat tighten as you said them all the same.
Benedict's smile fell into confusion, "What is so hard to believe about that?"
Taken aback by the genuine confusion in his tone, you clarified, "I only mean to say that I would not have expected it."
"If that is the case, I hope that you find this to be a good surprise," For just a moment, you heard a bit of nerves in his voice as he tried to present a confident image. "Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. But I wanted to bring you these and to officially declare my affection."
Finally, Benedict moved the hand behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of morning glory and myrtle. You smiled wide at the sight, "Thank you, Benedict. They're lovely."
Shortly after, Benedict had to take his leave, although he promised to come back the following day. Once he had left, you reached for a book on the language of flowers. You found that morning glories are used to represent affection, meanwhile myrtle is used to represent love and marriage. Learning that brought a blush to your cheeks, finding the meaning to be a little bold, but not unpleasant.
It was then that you noticed a small folded piece of parchment beside the flowers. When you unfolded the paper, you could see the painted design done in watercolors. A man and a woman stood beneath a tree, which was situated between a lovely cottage and a church. The image was small, but you could tell that the couple was you and Benedict. On the other side of the parchment was a simple note.
I boast not eloquence, dear Miss, Nor do I write exceedingly fine; Therefore, I bluntly ask you this-- Pray, will you be my Valentine?
As you looked down at the note, you felt your heart swell. You held it close to your chest, feeling as if you could burst from happiness at any moment. Your mother then looked up from her book. "What is that, dear?"
"It is nothing!" You responded quickly. Luckily, your mother did not push the issue further.
That night, you folded the note once more and placed it in the drawer of the nightstand beside your bed. As you attempted to fall asleep, all you could think of was that you could not wait to see Benedict again.
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Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader
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"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"
Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.
We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.
In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.
That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.
We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.
It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.
These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.
The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.
"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.
"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,
"Tolerable"
~
PART TWO PART THREE
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lilacsinjuly · 5 months
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゚.*・。゚☆ KINKTOBER 2023 ☆゚.*・。゚
➸ DAY TEN: THE GAME.
゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*
summary: Eren hate everything about you - from your attitude to your friends and your clothes, he hates you. You make other's lives miserable, and he's determined to put you in your place with an innocent game which results in you having to do whatever he wants for the rest of the night.
CW: fem reader, smut, halloween party, costumes, drinking, beer pong, reader is a bitch like you are seriously unlikeable, like she's a bully & your typical mean girl, masturbation, men being men but only for a sec, reader has to do whatever Eren wants yet the sexual stuff is consensual, spanking, bondage, degrading, eren steals ur thong, public sex, semi-public sex, praise, blowjob, throat-fucking, slapping, choking, biting, humping/shoe-fucking, eren calls you 'princess', no use of y/n.
a/n: so we're a good while into november and i'm just posting my last kinktober post - oops. i've been so busy plus i wanted to wait cus idk if it's disrespectful to the dead to post smut about them (spoiler warning) like right after they died. anyway, i read a book or another fanfic w a similiar plot ages ago and it's been stuck in my head since but i can't rememeber what it's called lol.
word count: 13.7k - if you read this, ilysm.
likes, comments and reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.
masterlist.
゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*・。゚゚.*
Eren couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand the way you thought so highly of yourself or how you’d walk around with your head high and a disgusted look on your face when you saw someone like him. He couldn’t stand people you surround yourself with or how you managed to look so fucking good in every outfit you put on.
He could't stand the raging urge he felt to fuck the attitude right out off you.
On the other hand, you found yourself not looking twice in his direction unless it was to make a snide comment to your friends followed by a mocking laugh before you went on with your day not thinking about him for another second.
Eren, however, would think about that comment for the rest of the day. It didn't upset him, he was by no means offended by your comment. It just shocked him to an immeasurable amount that you were still this much of an impudent bitch in college. Surely you would have managed to grow up a bit after high school, right?
No. Not a single part of you had managed to catch a glimpse of the real world past the curtains of your life as a spoiled, popular, hot girl who thought there was nothing out there more important than money and looks.
In all fairness, both of those things had gotten you everything you had ever wanted, yet in effect, it ruined the lives of the people around you as you dragged them down to build yourself up.
That's why he came to this party, knowing fully well that you would be here. Tonight, he was determined to humble you - make you feel every fraction of hurt and shame you had forced onto other's your entire life.
Eren wasn't exactly popular, which is why he was shocked to have been invited to this party in the first place. He had his small group of friends and he was content with that. Mikasa and Armin were also skeptical of coming, confused as to why Eren was so persistent after he had spent all of his years in high school and the time you had spent together in college slandering your name and every other popular mother fucker - all of them were exactly like you, and all of them were at this party.
He had a slight feeling that it was due to Jean, the host of the party, and his blatant crush on Mikasa - yet she went wherever Eren went and they could always count on Armin to tag along as well, even if it took a lot of persuasion from Eren. Armin was confused why Eren was so persistent on coming, yet he let it go once Eren got defensive when he asked.
It was a halloween party, meaning there were all sorts of costumes to be seen from every corner. Of course, you were all adults now, so instead of anything actually scary there were mini-skirts and shirtless guys wherever his eyes fell. Eren didn’t want to dress up - in fact, he had forgotten completely as he was so focused on coming up with a plan that would land you right where he wanted you, therefore, he opted for a tight black shirt and some baggy pants.
Once his eyes caught yours, he scoffed. You were dressed entirely in black. A black corset decorated with beautiful patterns, a small black skirt (that could have passed as a belt but that didn't seem to bother you), black fishnets and boots that reached up past your knees. Of course, to finish the look, there was a pair of angel wings and a halo that adorned your head. A dark angel, not an uncommon look but considering you were the only one wearing it, it could have passed as that. The reason he had scoffed at the sight of you was because he assumed you must have threatened anyone going for the same look as you in order to assure you were different to everyone else - he couldn't think of you any more highly than that.
He mentally scolded himself for the way his eyes were dragging themselves all over the parts of your body that your costume didn’t cover - and there was a lot of it on display. Your costume left hardly anything to the imagination.
Eren could feel himself hardening in his pants just from the sight of you and he cursed himself internally for it. Why here and why now? Usually, just the thought of you would be enough to rile him up enough for him to get hard but tonight he swore he wouldn’t let his eyes or mind wander.
Quickly, he excused himself, leaving behind a confused Mikasa and Armin. The pair had exchanged glances since they had arrived due to Eren’s strange behaviour - but they chose not to bring it up.
The house was massive, and there were plenty of bathrooms, so nobody should mind if he occupied this one in particular for just long enough to take care of his problem.
His back hit the wall and he groaned in both pleasure and frustration once his hand reached to free his aching dick. He held his shirt up with his teeth and watched as his hand moved up and down his hardened cock.
His breath hitched when his thumb ran across the tip and he threw his head back and screwed his eyes shut in order to help prevent any more noises from leaving his throat.
Eren’s mind wandered to the sight of your thighs clad in those black fishnets and the way your skirt was so short he was certain that if you bent down just a little, he’d be able to take a peek at your ass from underneath. He wanted nothing more than to tear those angel wings right off you whilst whispering in your ear from behind about how much of a dirty slut you were and how there was no place in heaven for such a dirty thing like you all whilst fucking into you relentlessly to the point where you were too fucked-dumb to argue back.
The grip he had on his dick tightened and he shuddered at the feeling, his pace increasing as the sound of him fisting his cock rang throughout the bathroom. He was panting  and groaning, unable to hold himself back for much longer.
What sent him over the edge, was the thought of how well you’d take him because he knew that underneath all the layers of this vain and hateful version of yourself was a slut who was begging to get degraded and humiliated - even if you didn’t know it yet. He envisioned how tightly your cunt would squeeze him as though it was so desperate for his cock and how you’d whine and plead him to stop like a brat but you’d never use your safe word because at the end of the day, you needed him to fill you up. He pictured the cute face you’d make as you came all around his cock, screaming his name and dragging your nails down his back.
Eren wasn’t able to control himself for much longer before let out a strained groan and shot hot ropes of cum over his hand all whilst his grip on his cock never slowed or stopped for a second.
He had spent many nights in this situation - fisting his cock until he was all out of orgasms whilst picturing all the different positions he’d put you in and all the types of punishments you’d have to endure just to get a taste of his dick.
Tonight. He told himself. Tonight he will have all of that - he’ll have you begging for all of it.
Quickly, he cleaned himself up and opened the door, surprised to only find one person waiting who could barely hold himself up which saved him the embarrassment of having to walk out to find a crowd of people waiting.
He rejoined Mikasa and Armin, and began to wait for the perfect moment to put his plan in action.
You, however, were sitting in the living room on the armrest of one of the chairs with your other stuck up, self-obsessed friends, chatting shit about every person under the sun whilst simultaneously insulting each other as subtly as possible. 
You were sitting by Hitch, leaning against her whilst absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as she leaned back and sipped on her drink watching as the people around her tore each other and everyone else to bits.
Hitch had been your one and only true friend - the only one you could securely say you trusted with anything and the only person you would let see through your bitchy facade and the wall of hidden insecurities lying within. The only thing allowing you to act so cruel and heartless towards others was that very wall, the one that prevented people from getting close to you but also letting anything out that may subject you to the same remarks you throw around so casually. In the world of social status, it was kill or be killed - but in more of a metaphorical manner. 
Occasionally, you would chime into the slaughter of other people’s names and reputations, adding your own (exaggerated) experiences and opinions of other people’s lives. 
You stopped paying as much attention when the guys started talking disgustingly about which girls they were planning on fucking tonight - you simply turned to hitch and rolled your eyes to which she laughed. 
“How about her over there?” one of the guys asked, pointing in the direction of a brunette standing awkwardly on her own as she tried to drink her nerves away. It was quite clear she was listening in on the conversation, whether that was involuntarily or on purpose, and the very mention of her caused her to quickly glance at your group before turning her face away - burning a bright red colour whilst looking for a way to escape, yet she was unsuccessful and ended up staying put.
Luckily for her, you gave her her own way of escape.
“Her? No, she’s such a slut.” You said without hesitation because it was what you did. You had walked in on her making out with another guy in the bathroom a few months ago and of course you had to tell everybody about it. “I mean, she can’t keep it in her pants long enough to wait until she’s not in public to fuck her weird ass boyfriend.”
The people around you snickered and the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears. You were being purposefully loud, making extra sure that she could hear you and not feeling an ounce of guilt.
“I mean, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” One of the girls sat across from you said.
You were used to other girls trying to throw passive aggressive comments in your direction, yet it would always end with them knocked out cold or with a broken nose so not many tried anymore - so her blatant rudeness threw you off a bit however you tried to keep your composure. You gave her a tight lipped smile and she stared at you with challenging eyes.
“Sorry, who are you?” you asked, clear malice sewn into your voice.
She laughed mockingly before replying. “Just someone who doesn’t sleep with every guy who gives her the time of day.”
Squeezing your empty cup, you scoffed and got up from your seat, clearly vexed by the comment made yet not quite drunk enough to start a fight just yet. 
What the fuck does she know? People thought of you as a self-obsessed whore, but in reality, only one of those things were true. You had only slept with two other guys, one being your long-term boyfriend and the other being a rebound after your break-up.
As you walked, Hitch called out to you, asking you where you were going and as you turned around to shout back, Eren could feel the excitement growing inside of him at the opportunity that had presented itself - the one he had been waiting for and imagining since the day he first saw you.
“I’m gonna grab another drink.” You shouted back to her over the music, she could barely hear you, but she nodded anyway.
Eren made his way to the path that you were taking and accidentally bumped into you.
Spinning around, you glared at him with nothing but anger and disgust. “Watch where you’re going, freak.”
Not wanting to waste anymore time, you attempted to walk off from him and make your way to the kitchen. Yet, Eren had other plans.
Swiftly, he grabbed your arm. His hold wasn’t painful, yet it was firm enough that you couldn’t escape it.
He wanted to laugh at the look on your face.
It was one that indicated that nobody like him, nobody beneath you, had ever stood up to you before. Nobody like him had grabbed you before. Your eyes were wide, and if he looked hard enough, he swore he would have been able to see steam coming out from your ears, yet his hold didn’t falter for a second. 
“What the fuck are you doing, perv? How fucking dare you-”
“I want you to apologise.” He started, and that look of amazement on your face only seemed to grow. For the first time in your life, you were utterly speechless.
“What?”
“It wasn’t my fault you bumped into me. You were the one who wasn’t watching where you were going.” His grip around you tightened slightly, causing your face to scrunch up before your lips parted in shock. “Therefore, I want you to apologise.”
Eren’s voice was low and calm, there wasn’t a hint of any pent up frustration hidden anywhere within it. In fact, he sounded like he didn’t know who you were, and to you, it looked like it as well.
After snapping out of your stupor, you let out a harsh laugh at his demand and jolted out of his hold, taking a few steps back. “You want me to apologise? Over my dead body. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
You started to recognise him from one of your classes but you refused to portray any sort of recognition in your voice or features, not wanting to inflate his ego any higher or make him feel any more special than he already does just from talking to you. Evan? Ernie?
“Someone who’s not gonna fucking bow down to you and fall to his knees begging for an apology, princess.” Every syllable was laced with sarcasm and there was a hint of resentment in his tone - the latter not being something you weren’t used to, there were plenty of people who hated you in silence because of envy though it wasn’t typically something you heard from guys.
“Are you asking to get your ass kicked, or what? Just because you won't do anything I ask, doesn’t mean there aren’t plenty of guys who won't.”
Eren looked down at you with a lazy smirk plastered on his face, and if you weren’t so pissed off at him, you would have been able to recognise the traces of malicious intent hidden behind the green of his eyes - like he was planning something.
And, fuck, was he planning something.
“Fine then,” his head motioned to the table setup with various cups filled with beer. “One game of beer pong. Loser apologises.”
He wasn’t an idiot - he knew you’d refuse to waste your time on a useless apology that you didn’t want all that much and he was the same. There’s no way he’d actually play you just for an apology.
“As if. I don’t want to waste any more time on you than I already have.”
Before you could walk off, Eren grabbed your arm once again.
“Okay… then the loser has to do whatever the other person wants for the rest of the night.”
As he expected, you stopped resisting. It pissed you off immensely that Eren wasn’t the type to just do whatever you wanted, and right now you wanted nothing more than for him to understand his place.
You paused in consideration. If you won, there wouldn’t be much of a difference. You didn’t need Eren to be in your corner all night waiting for your command, you had plenty of people who wouldn’t say no when you asked them to do something. The only thing you’d gain is more pride. If you lost, however, you’d have to do whatever Eren says and that would damage your reputation far past fixable. It would be social suicide and you’d never recover from the humiliation. But, you wouldn’t lose, right?
"Fine then," You started, eyeing him up and down as your tongue ran across your teeth. "Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the night. Deal?"
The two of you shook on it, you making an exaggerated gesture of wiping your hand on your outfit after your hands separated just to remind him of how low he stood beneath you. Eren only let out a curt laugh as he rolled his eyes.
"Can't wait to make you my little bitch, Aaron."
A slight pause before he replied, "It's Eren."
Narrowing his eyes at you in utter disbelief, he tried to calm himself down, reminding himself that there would be plenty of opportunities for him to humiliate you later.
"Yeah... okay." You gave him a look that signified how little you cared. He simply brushed it off.
The two of you began to head towards the table, two people in the process of finishing up a game before you snapped at them to leave. Eren, on the other hand, had been pulled to the side by Mikasa and Armin, the latter scolding him for what he was about to do.
“If you lose, you’ll never live it down. If you win, her fucking minions will be on you like-”
“I know what I’m doing, just leave it.”
The two watched Eren as he turned his back, heading for the table where you were waiting with an impatient scowl on your face despite the fact you had only been waiting for about two minutes.
Mikasa tried to call out to him, yet her efforts were futile given the loud music that still boomed throughout the halls. Giving up, the pair looked at each other with concern etched into their features before reluctantly joining the crowd that had formed around the two of you.
You made a snappy comment along the lines of ‘getting this over and done with’ before Eren gestured for you to go first. There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation as you threw the first shot, immediately getting it into one of the back cups and watched, unblinking, as Eren tossed the cup's contents down his throat like it was nothing.
This went on for a while - you'd successfully get the ball into one of his cups and then watch intently as he drank the beer inside. There was something about watching the way his throat would bop or how he’d wipe his mouth, his eyes on yours, and then tossing it to the side before taking a ball and throwing it effortlessly into one of your cups.
You hated how attractive he was and hated yourself for not being able to take your eyes off him.
Now, you had only three cups left, whereas he had four. You cursed yourself for missing the last time but it wasn’t your fault when you could feel his eyes burning holes through you whilst he shot you that same stupid smirk he kept giving you.
It wasn’t because you found it attractive, it just irritated you endlessly. There was no other logical explanation than irrational anger - that's what caused you to miss your last shot. So, as you watched him throw the ball and the way it danced around the rim of your cup before falling in, you promised yourself you wouldn’t miss these last shots.
The other times you had missed, he wasn’t smirking at you nor was he staring at you like he could see through your clothes - so it really was the only explanation.
As much as he liked to think he did, he didn’t make you nervous.
Taking the cup, you lifted it to your lips and swallowed back the beer, some of it dribbling down your chin and down your chest.
Eren refused to let himself react loudly, though, as he fought against how his hands were gripping onto the table and how his jaw was clenched. 
The two of you continued the game, Eren missing once, leaving the two of you with only one cup left.
It was Eren’s turn, but it didn’t matter whether or not he got this last one in as long as you could get your next in.
Your fingers tapped anxiously and impatiently against the table as he stretched out his turn for longer than he should have been - like he was purposefully trying to ensure you missed your next throw. 
Aiming the ball, he threw it perfectly in the cup causing your face to drop before immediately wiping the reaction off your face.
Running his tongue over his teeth, he looked up at you with a winning smile and a vicious look in his eyes. “Your turn, princess. You don’t wanna miss this one.” Eren drawled, standing back from the table and crossing his arms arrogantly. “Unless, you actually want to be my bitch for the rest of the night.”
The large group of people gathered around all of you snickered at his comment and waited for your response eagerly. 
“In your dreams, perv.” You snarled at him, taking the ball and aiming it carefully at the last cup. Taking a deep breath in, you threw the ball and hoped for the best.
Watching as it hit the rim of the cup and bounced straight back off, your eyes widened and your face filled with horror. Your hands fell to your sides and you stared blankly at the cup in defeat.
“Just one more go, I-”
Reaching for the ball that had betrayed you and had begun to roll to your side of the table, you were cut off by Eren placing his hand over yours as it rested on top of the ball. Your head snapped up to meet his in annoyance. Once again, he was looking down at you and you had never felt so small. Your heart stuttered, there was too much humour in his crooked smile for someone who had innocently proposed a game of beer pong.
“No. We made a deal.” He sounded so naturally calm and though his voice wasn’t gloating - his eyes certainly were. 
You wanted to cry but you wouldn’t allow yourself to. There was no way you’d toss away all of your pride tonight - you were already going to have to do anything he asked you to so you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
Dropping your head and releasing the grip you had on the ball, you pulled away from him and sighed in defeat. It pissed you off to no extent to lose in front of all these people, especially seeing as though Eren had made the terms of the game clear to everyone watching.
You couldn’t help but scold yourself for even accepting those terms - it benefitted you very little. Never did you think you would lose and have to follow Eren around like a dog all night and wait for him to give a command.
Folding your arms, you raised your head, deciding to at least pretend that your defeat hadn’t pissed you off endlessly. 
“So?” You asked, waiting for whatever embarrassing wish he had for you to fulfil.
“I want you to get on your knees and apologise.”
You felt the life drain from your face as your heart plummeted. As if the night couldn’t get any more humiliating, Eren was right there to remind you that it can and it will. Shaking your head, you swallowed nervously and replied. “No way. Not in front of all these people.”
“We had a deal, didn’t we? On your knees, princess.” He spat venomously. You looked up into his eyes with a silent pleading desperation and realised there was no negotiating when you noticed how lifeless and full of hatred his eyes were. It also hit you at that moment that he had been waiting for an opportunity like this for a while. Had he planned this entire thing?
Looking around, you felt a burning amount of rage flow through you as you bit your lip and sank to your knees.
“I’m sorry.” Your tone wasn’t short of seething anger and you kept your head down, not wanting to look at how proud he must be.
“Aw, c’mon, you can do better than that,” Your fingers grasped at the thin and short material of your skirt in frustration. “Look, you can sit here and apologise properly to get this over and done with, or we can be here all night - which is only more embarrassing for you, really. I mean, at least try to sound sorry.”
As much as you didn’t want to admit for the second time in two minutes, he was right, so you caved in.
“I’m sorry, Eren. I’m sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and bumped into you and I’m sorry I said it was your fault. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a freak… and a perv,” Looking up at him, you stare intently into his eyes, like he was the only other person in the room. Your voice lowered to just over a whisper. “Please forgive me.”
Eren stood above you with his arms folded - his face now void of any emotion, not even a hint of pride or victory carved into his features as he looked down on you.
“Hm. I’ll think about it.”
How the fuck did he manage to annoy you more and more with every word that fell from his lips? He’ll think about it? What the fuck does he even mean by that? 
“You asked me to apologise, and I did. So just fucking forgive me.”
Eren crouched down to your level and took your chin in between his index finger and thumb before leaning over to whisper in your ear. “I’d watch what you say, princess. You don’t wanna get punished do you? I mean, how would all these people react once I tell them their perfect girl keeps pressing her legs together every time I look at her?”
He noticed that? No, scrap that - why the fuck did just the mention of getting punished cause that familiar throbbing in between your legs? And the way his breath was fanning your ear and how low his voice sounded as he spoke. What the fuck was he doing to you?
Pulling away, he gave you an expectant look and you shook your head - agreeing with him.
He stood up and motioned for you to follow him.
Fuck was this going to be a long night.
Within minutes of his victory, there were people crowding Eren and talking to him like they had been friends for years - like he wasn’t the type they’d make fun of behind his back. Like you hadn’t watched them.
You dragged your feet and followed him wherever he went, occasionally going to fetch him or his new-found friends another drink whenever he asked you to. 
He wasn’t talking to you much, and you were grateful for that. He didn’t gloat or brag about his victory, he simply gave you a demanding look and gave you a task to do. 
Despite this, he was constantly looking over at you. His eyes would wander down your body just like they had done when you bumped into him and like they were when you were playing beer pong. His eyes would burn holes into your skin before he would lick his lips and turn back around to rejoin the conversation he had temporarily removed himself from. You assumed he was simply trying to make sure you hadn’t ran off.
The thought had crossed your mind a few times. You could run off and save your reputation, but you were getting an odd sort of pleasure from the way he was ordering you around, laughing at you and thinking of new ways he could humiliate you in front of everyone.
Him not speaking to you, however, also gave you the time to properly look at him as well. You were right previously, he was in one of your classes. He sat at the back, typically staring out the window or twirling his pen. You don’t know how you never really paid any attention to him before because there was something about him that was so… attractive. 
Eren had a quiet, brooding look about him that would generally scare other people - or at least earn him a few weird looks.
Not tonight, however. His typical chilling look was embraced given the fact it was halloween and it made you seethe with anger at his blatant hypocrisy after he had made his distaste of you due to your popularity so apparent all whilst soaking in the amount of attention he was getting instead of you.
You were outraged that you were having to stoop down to his level and embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Yet, for some reason, you weren’t able to prevent the throbbing feeling between your legs when he was looking down at you and commanding you to do something else he could have done easily on his own.
You were glaring at him when he suddenly decided to excuse himself from the group he was with and called you to follow him. Cursing under your breath, you hurried after him with an annoyed look plastered onto your face.
“What's wrong with you?” He did nothing to hide his mocking tone or the humour he found in your situation.
“I have no clue what you’re on about. I just fucking love following you around like a dog and doing whatever you want.” You snapped, crossing your arms and furrowing your brows.
“Well that's good, considering you’ll be doing it for the rest of the night.”
There was a ringing in your ear and you wanted nothing more than to take a hammer and smash every single speaker that echoed the beat of the music throughout the cramped halls. Every brush of someone walking past you was making you incredibly frustrated and you felt so close to lashing out at someone - preferably Eren.
“You’re an asshole.”
Within seconds, you were pulled into an empty corner and pushed against the wall. Eren had one of his hands on your hip and the other had a deathly grip on your chin. 
“And you’re a pathetic slut who’s been staring at me the entire night with those stupid ‘fuck me’ eyes and pressing her legs together because it’s all the action she’ll be getting for a while after this.”
Your heart was thumping in your chest because of his bold accusations, and despite this, you could feel yourself growing hotter. Your skin became more sensitive and was tingling at every touch and where his hand was touching gently on your hip it felt like you were burning.
You were holding your breath - hardly able to speak or think of a comeback until you remembered how he had been eyeing you the entire time as well.
“Oh yeah? Haven’t you been eye-fucking me this entire night? If you play your cards right, I might let you fuck me?”
Eren pulled back slightly and barked out a laugh at your response as though it was the funniest thing in the world which only irritated you more, though you refused to show it.
Subtly, he slipped his leg in between yours and pushed them away slightly, creating room for him to press his thigh up against your clothed pussy and giving you a taste of the pleasure he could bring you just by simply moving his thigh to rest between your legs. Though, he knew what he was doing as he moved his leg slightly resulting in him grinding his leg against your clit causing you to whine softly.
“Let me? Princess, you really have no idea who’s in control, don’t you? If I feel like fucking you, I will, and you’re gonna take it like a good girl, aren’t you? Because, you’ve been so good to me the entire night, you don’t want to spoil it, do you? I mean, sure, you can’t take a single order without a complaint or any back talk, but you’re getting there. You’re a spoiled little thing, but one that I can shape easily into a perfect little slut.”
The way he was talking about you and degrading you would have usually had you slapping him in the face and walking off immediately. But the way his insults rolled off his tongue so naturally was so appealing and had the control that you were so desperately trying to grasp at, falling from your fingers even further than before. 
That’s what you needed. Control.
“You’re right, Eren,” biting your lip, you took one of your fingers and slid it down his shirt and across his stomach. You felt like gasping when you could feel his figure through the tight material of the shirt yet you decided to remain silent. “I’ve been so good to you. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”
Control was something that was very short-lived when you were faced with someone like Eren. Someone who could so easily snatch it up from underneath your nose and wave it obnoxiously in your face.
“For what, hm? Doing as you’re told? That’s what I fucking expect from you. No, you’ll get a reward when you impress me. Like I said, you can’t even get through a single task without a complaint. What’s so difficult about grabbing a couple of drinks?”
“You won’t let me have one.” You retorted, a pout settling on your face. The first time he had told you to get him a drink, you had got one for yourself as well - a way to calm your nerves and help you through this dreadful night. Immediately, he had taken your drink away from you and drank it right in front of your face as you stood there and watched dumb-founded.
He had told you that you weren’t allowed another drink unless he permitted you to and you blew up in his face about how unfair it was and called him a variety of creative insults.
Eren was ensuring that you were sober enough to feel the humiliation of your situation but also that you were in the right state of mind for when he inevitably fucks you tonight.
“That’s right, I won’t. You’ll understand why soon.”
Eren removed himself away from you completely and went on about his night like that interaction hadn’t left him as flustered and yet simultaneously annoyed as you were. 
He walked into the same living room you had started your night in. There was a different group of people in there, yet immediately, as if he was famous, someone offered their seat to Eren and two girls sat themselves next to him.
There was a panging feeling of jealousy hovering within you as you watched them touch his arms and laugh unnecessarily loud at one of his jokes.
He had just been flirting with you and yet somehow, he had easily moved on to the two girls he saw next whilst asking them if they wanted a drink because he knew just the person to fetch them.
You stormed off to the kitchen, pissed off at how he seemed to be enjoying the company of those two other girls far more than your own. 
But why? They wouldn’t be able to handle him like you could. If he was finding pleasure in ordering you about and forcing you to humiliate yourself, all whilst grinding his thigh against you in a place where anyone could have walked past, who knew what other kinky shit he was into?
There was a sense of desperation that hung over you. You wanted him to notice you, you wanted to get his attention so badly, you wanted to show him just how much of a slut you could be for him.
There was no way he’d even look in the direction of another woman after tonight, you swore it.
Bending down, you placed their drinks on the table, flashing him your black, lacy thong in the process yet not caring because you took pleasure in showing off knowing the people behind him could see as well.
“That’s a nice thong you’re wearing.” He stated blandly. You turned around to look down at him, sitting so carelessly on the sofa with his arms draped around two other girls. 
For some reason, this frustrated you to no extent. You wanted to believe that it was because of how annoying it was that he could pretend like he couldn’t care less about you. But, in reality, you wanted nothing but his attention on you. You didn’t want him to be touching other girls - that was the reason you had flashed him your thong as well, in hopes that he would catch a glimpse of what he was missing.
You grinned when he noticed the fact that he had been staring so shamelessly at your clothed pussy, letting you know that he did want you and not them.
What he said afterwards, took you aback. The grin on your face immediately being wiped away from existence - no trace of it to be seen.
“Give it to me.”
Your mouth was agape and there was nothing but disgust plastered all over your face before you quickly covered it up with your typical look of nonchalance. 
The people surrounding you whistled, still invested in the ongoing dare and what would turn out to be your inevitable downfall. There was still a sizable crowd amongst the dozens of other people pretending to be minding their own businesses. People you had known for years, people you had made fun of and chat shit about were relishing blatantly at your humiliation.
There was only one thing that you could do, and that was pretend to be as unaffected by the situation as possible. So, without another second of hesitation, you reached up underneath your skirt and pulled down your thong slowly as your eyes remained locked on Eren’s, both of your faces portraying zero emotion.
As you pulled your thong down your legs, you felt shame as your arousal clinged to it desperately and you knew that the minute you handed the fabric to him, he’d be able to see a glistening wetness. Your pussy had betrayed you, and now he was going to know exactly how you were responding to his degrading demands and humiliation.
Like he didn’t already know.
Still, you kept your face expressionless as though you weren’t ashamed and cringing and dying a little bit inside.
At the end of the day, there were still crowds of people around you, howling and praising your name for being so bold and hot.
Someone had to be reminding them of what they wanted but couldn’t have - yet there was a part inside of you that was worried the boys would begin to think of you as some common whore who’d have sex with anyone - including them.
You only had room for one worry at the moment, and at least they still somewhat respected you, even if it was just for now.
You twirled the small, black fabric around your finger with an alluring smirk on your face. “Are these what you want, Eren? You’re nothing but a perv.” You said, bending down to shove the panties against his chest before quickly standing back up again and sitting down on one of the other chairs, not wanting to be around him as much as you had to.
He held your thong in his hand and you stared at him in wait. He had immediately noticed the wet patch, and you were waiting patiently for him to announce it to the entire room, giving him a look of false encouragement by raising your eyebrows expectantly - but that moment never came. He simply stared back at you and winked, like it was your own little secret and you thanked him mentally for it as you let out a breath of relief.
Eren didn’t even try to hide how he shoved your thong into his pocket as he called out your name.
You rolled your eyes. Again? Could he not let you have just one break?
“Come and sit over here so I can keep my eye on you.” The girls beside him giggled and you wanted nothing more than to scream in the faces and rip their heads off but thankfully, you refrained. “Right in front of me, on your knees.”
Once again, you complied to his request, standing up and walking over to kneel down right in front of him, shooting him a look that said ‘are you happy, now?’ to which he just smirked and went back to talking to those two other girls.
He should have been the one on his knees. He should be on his knees, thanking you for giving him the time of day that he needed in order to get those girls’ attention. Before you, he was absolutely nothing - not a single girl on his shoulder. Now, because of you, he had two of them and yet it was you that was on your knees.
Without your thong, you felt exposed and anxious that soon you’d be able to feel your arousal dripping down your legs or that someone would be able to see your dripping pussy.
Your mind was spinning, so much so you couldn’t feel Eren’s hard eyes on you as the two girls he was with continued to speak to him like he was paying them any attention. He could see the way your eyes were moving around frantically, the way your legs were pressed together so tightly as you lay your hands in your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. He was concentrating so heavily on you that even over the sounds of chatter and music, he swore he could hear the change in pace of your breathing. 
Suddenly, your eyes connected with his. You were taken aback to find that he was already looking at you and if it embarrassed him that you caught him, his face didn’t show it. Neither of you broke the eye contact you held for a while, both too stubborn to be the first to lose. Instead, you just stood up and brushed your skirt down - claiming you needed to go to the bathroom.
His eyes narrowed at you suspiciously and you walked off as soon as you saw his lips part to respond, knowing it would only displease him.
You started pushing through the crowds of people, desperate to get to the bathroom as quickly as possible. You could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs and the way your skin felt hot with embarrassment at the idea of someone seeing. 
For some reason, you had only gotten more wet when you saw how Eren was staring at you and how he didn’t take his eyes off you even when you caught him. 
There were slight murmurs of your name followed by mocking laughs as you made your way to the bathroom but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care - the only thing on your mind was Eren.
You were so close, mere steps away from reaching the door handle and behind able to relieve yourself when all of a sudden you were being spun around and dragged away causing you to curse whoever was preventing you from relieving yourself from your torment. And of course, who else would it be apart from Eren?
You stared at his back as he walked with your wrist in his hand and you could tell he was pissed off at you - just from his grip and the way that he was walking alone.
The two of you stopped in the corner of a very compact area, there were people everywhere but that didn’t stop Eren from trapping you. Luckily enough, the people around you were either far too high or drunk to pay the two of you much attention as they messily grinded on one another and blew smoke around the room.
Eren forced your head to look in his direction by taking your face in his hand roughly.
There was a scowl adorned on his lips, yet, replacing the usual emptiness within his eyes was a spark that you hadn’t seen before and it made you question whether he had something planned.
His arm was caging you in and he peered down at you menacingly. “Care to explain?”
“I already told you.” you said, the corner the two of you were in was relatively quiet for a party so you hardly had to shout. There was also the fact you didn’t want to draw any attention to yourselves because you were already in a compromising position in front of all these people, you were just relieved they were too intoxicated to fully comprehend what was going on in the corner of their eyes. “I was going to the bathroom. Before you stopped me, that is. By the way, I’m blaming you if I piss myself in front of all these people.”
Whilst Eren may have let out a laugh, it was one that was devoid of any humour or enjoyment. He lowered his head and shook it slowly whilst he laughed and his grip on your chin with the hand that wasn’t confining you strengthened. “That’s funny because I don’t remember letting you.”
“And I don’t remember needing your permission.” You retorted, growing more vexed with every second that passed yet at the same time that throbbing feeling in between your legs came back as you stared at him intently, gauging his reaction. 
He dropped his hand from your face and lowered it down to your neck to which you instinctively gave him access by raising your chin. “We made a deal, didn’t we?” 
When you didn’t answer him, his clutch on your throat grew more intense causing your mouth to drop open in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Didn’t we?” Eren repeated.
“Y-yes, Eren.” Your voice was less than a whisper, too afraid you’d say the wrong thing. However, you appeared to have pleased him at least a bit as his grip loosened ever so slightly at your response making you sigh in relief.
“Good girl. Now tell me, did you actually need the bathroom? Or…” The hand on your throat once again left its place and made its way down your body and towards the space in between your legs and a single finger wiped some of the slick from your pussy earning a sigh from you as you let your head rest against the wall. Immediately, his hand was removed from your pussy and he brought it up to the space in between the two of you as he examined his finger carefully. His eyes were glued to how wet you were before they locked on yours. “...did you need to fix this little problem, hm?”
Your voice was failing you as you spewed out pathetic stutters of what was supposed to be denial of his accusation yet you both already knew the answer. In fact, he was only asking you to embarrass you. This entire thing, his only goal, was to crush you and leave you mortified - not even recognising yourself anymore. Still, you attempted to deny it nevertheless.
“No! Wh- why the fuck would I- I swear I just needed to go to the bathroom.” It couldn't have been less believable if you tried.
The fact that you even thought of lying to him was enough of a reason for him to punish you - in his eyes, anyway.
“Liar.” He spits, and his hand instantly goes back up to your throat as a way of letting you know that you had upset him. “Fine then. If you want to cum so badly, then touch yourself. Right here, right now. I want you to touch yourself.”
Your eyes went wide like you had seen a ghost, but in reality, this was much more shocking. Was he being serious? There’s no way he actually wanted you to touch yourself when there were so many people around, any of which could look in your direction and see the sinful act you would be committing.
That spark in his eyes. The same one you had noticed immediately once he turned to face you, it told you everything you needed to know.
He was really telling you to touch yourself. 
“What?” you exclaimed. Yet, you couldn’t lie, just the idea of any one of these people turning around to see your fingers plunged deep inside of you really turned you on.
“They won’t see you, not with me blocking you.” he reasoned, taking a step closer and further minimising the gap in between the two of you. 
“Still, Eren, that’s fucking crazy. There’s no way I’m doing that!” But, oh, you wanted to. Whilst your words were disapproving, you couldn’t help but think about how good it would feel to touch yourself in that moment, your clit was aching and begging for attention as a result of your neglect and your hole was desperate to be filled but no matter what, it was unreasonable to suggest doing something so vile.
Eren simply tutted at your resistance and shook his head like you were a child and he was inevitably going to get what he wanted no matter how many times you objected.
“The thing is, you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You could have left ages ago, but you didn’t. So there’s no point in arguing when we both know you’re going to end up giving in - not because I want you to, but because you want to. Try and hide it all you want, I know what I’ve seen.”
You swallowed nervously and looked around to see if anybody was watching the two of you. Still, you stayed motionless, scared of the consequences yet knowing that nobody would see you with Eren blocking you from anybody’s line of sight.
“What is it then, hm?” He asked with a fake tone of comfort. “Do you need me to help you?”
The feeling of his hand wandering down your bare arm before taking your hand in his own sent shivers throughout your entire body. You didn’t resist his movements, truthfully, you welcomed them. He moved your hand to the space in between your legs and used it to caress the inside of your thighs before your hand reached your soaking cunt.
“Don’t make me do all the work, princess.” 
It was like you were starting to act based on just his words and his voice. You found yourself wanting nothing more than him, wanting nothing more than to please him so that maybe he’ll fuck you.
You slipped your fingers inside of you and bit your lip to hold back any noises you wanted to make. Your fingers started slowly moving in and out inside of you and Eren drew back his hand and placed both of them on your hips, using his body to shield your own from any prying eyes. 
“That’s a good girl, so obedient.”
A quiet noise slipped from your throat and Eren hushed you soothingly as his thumbs caressed your hips.
Your fingers began to speed up and curled slightly in order to reach that spot that you knew would bring you close to the edge. Taking your thumb, you started rubbing steady circles on your clit and because of the added stimulation, it didn’t take long until your fingers were thrusting themselves continuously in and out of your soaking pussy whilst your thumb’s motions picked up the pace. 
“Tell me when you’re about to cum, okay?” You nodded in response, not thinking twice about it.
You used your other hand to cover your mouth and stop yourself from drawing any attention in your direction.
Eren’s lips found themselves on your neck, leaving gentle pecks up the side of it. His kisses were light as a feather and fleeting - gone and moving to another spot before you could truly appreciate his lips.
“Eren, I-” you began, your voice muffled due to your hand being placed over your mouth.
“Speak clearly, princess. I can’t hear you.” His voice vibrated over your neck and you whined louder than you should have done - your eyes instantly bulging out of their sockets as you looked around the room frantically to see if anyone heard and only let yourself breathe when you were certain nobody had.
“‘M gonna cum, Eren–”
Within seconds, Eren’s lips were off your neck and your hand had been dragged away from your aching pussy. You couldn’t even process what had happened because your mind was far too hazy, so you simply stared at Eren in disbelief.
You could feel your orgasm fading away and tears creeping up into your eyes. “W-what? Why did you- I don’t understand-”
“It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if I let you cum, would it?” 
He smoothed out your skirt for you in a fake gesture of kindness before walking off from you and shouted back for you to follow him.
You, on the other hand, needed a drink. So, you chose to walk in the opposite direction and instead towards the kitchen. Noticing this, he rolled his eyes and followed you instead. He called out your name several times but you paid him no attention as you took a cup and poured some alcohol into it before bringing it to your lips.
However, his hand stopped you before you could raise the cup and chug back its contents.
Eren removed the cup from your hand and placed it on the kitchen counter. “There’s a reason I don’t want you drinking alcohol and why I directly told you that you can’t have any.”
Still, you refused to listen and picked the cup back up against his wishes before taking a sip. 
“You’re acting like a brat.” Eren was clearly getting riled up, evident by the annoyance in his tone. “You seriously want to get punished again after the last time?”
Wiping your mouth, you considered his words, but the overwhelming feeling of vexation with him because of him denying you your orgasm overshadowed any reason or rationality, so instead, you simply shrugged and giggled to yourself a bit - feeling far too proud with yourself.
“Do you know how much fun it would be, how much pleasure it would bring me, if I was to tell everyone about that little wet patch I found on your thong, hm?”
You were fuming. How dare he threaten you? You couldn’t risk him telling anyone else. Just him knowing was embarrassing enough. 
Eren got closer to you, so close to the point where your chest was pressed up against his, and his head was mere inches from your own. You felt yourself growing hot, and that all too familiar feeling of need between your legs was prominent once again, just from the simple proximity between the two of you as though just him being close to you was far too much for you to handle.
“See, this bratty attitude of yours is gonna have to stop. Remember that you’re doing this willingly, and if I have to punish you again for acting like a brat then I won't hesitate to.” He cupped your cheek and spoke so softly, like he was complimenting you instead of scolding and threatening you with punishments. “So, are you going to be a good girl for me? Are you going to obey me like we agreed you would do?”
You were really started to hate him. You hated the way he spoke down to you like he was better than you. You hate the way that his threats and his insults and his words had this irreversible effect on you and caused you to press your legs together so pathetically like you couldn’t control yourself. You hated how you wanted nothing more than for him to make good on his words and just fuck you already. Mostly, you hated how much you didn’t hate it and you hated how you actually felt more inclined to misbehave than be good for him because even though it felt so good when he praised you, it also felt incredible when he punished you.
You looked inside your cup, checking out what was left of the drink - after seeing there wasn’t too much left, you took the cup and chucked everything inside of it at Eren before slamming it down on the kitchen island and tilting your head at him waiting for his reaction.
That, he hadn’t seen coming. He wasn’t expecting quick compliance out of you, but he assumed that after him preventing your orgasm you would at least show a little restraint. He had stumbled back a bit, shocked by your retaliation.
There was people surrounding the two of you now, vocalising their interest and edging Eren on to do something about it - he would, just not in front of them.
Lifting up his shirt, he wiped what had gotten on his face off before giving you a dead look and taking your arm in his hold and walking out of the kitchen. The people that were watching expectantly voiced their disappointment before going back to what they were doing.
You stumbled throughout the halls, people shooting the two of you odd looks as you followed him reluctantly - his grip on your arm merciless and all of a sudden you were actually aware of what you had just done. 
Eren opened the door to one of the many bedrooms and shoved you inside of it before swiftly shutting the door and locking it, his head hanging low whilst he faced the door and a brief silence fogging up the room, suffocating you.
You stood in the middle of the room, watching his back. You wanted to go up to him and apologise but you couldn’t find the courage to approach him. 
As he turned around, you noticed how his eyes looked dark and displeased, like you had really disappointed him this time and like it was his final straw in dealing with you. 
“You think that shit was cute, princess? ‘Cause I’m really not happy with you.”
“Look, Eren, I- I was just-”
The sound of his footsteps cut you off as he began walking over to you.
Without warning, he slapped your cheek causing the sound to reverberate around the room and the inevitable silence that stung your ears afterwards. You were no longer looking at him, your head tilted to the side and you resisted that prominent urge to press your legs together.
He cupped the cheek that he slapped and caressed it harshly. “Your safe word is red, do you understand.”
Giving him a clear nod, he took the initiative to pull you over to the bed that sat in the middle room before he took a seat and pulled you over his lap so that your ass was up in the air. He placed something on the bedside table, but you didn’t see what it was. Pulling up your skirt, he caressed the fat of your ass gently.
He sighed, shaking his head. “I was really starting to think that you were beginning to behave as well.”
The sound of a painful slap across your ass rang in your ears as you winced, gripping the sheets.
“I said I was sorry, Eren-”
“You think that’s fucking good enough?” Another slap, this time to your other cheek before he returned back to the other and slapped it a few more times. “You did a very bad thing, princess. I didn’t think you had it in you anymore after your last punishment but it turns out just edging you isn’t enough to help you learn.”
Eren’s palm slapped your ass with a sound that could be heard from the hallway if there wasn’t still music blasting throughout the halls. You sucked in a breath and your grip tightened on the bed’s covers as you waited for the next swat to come, and then the next and the one after that one as well - along with all the smacks that came after that.
Your skin was stinging and hot and it seemed like Eren was hell-bent on breaking you and peering through the cracks of your life with the sheer strength he was putting into every individual slap. 
And yet, for whatever sick and twisted reason that had derived from the most wicked parts of your mind, you were moaning and wriggling in his hold in a desperate attempt for friction against your aching cunt. You were finding pleasure in the pain he brought upon you no matter how much it stung and you wanted to cry.
You tried to squirm away as they got harder but it would always result in him somehow making the next harder than the last so you stopped trying.
“C’mon princess, take your punishment like a good little girl. You’re not leaving until you’ve learned your lesson so stay put.”
Letting out a low cry of pain, you tried to move your head up in an attempt to get away slightly yet he just brought his free hand to your head and held it down roughly. 
“Don’t tell me I’ve smacked all the sense out of you, princess? What did I just fucking say, huh?”
His words and his force - it was all far too much but equally just what you had been needing. There was something about letting go and not having the control that you so desperately yearned for that was so freeing - and now, with your head pinned and Eren ruthlessly smacking your ass, you had no choice but to submit to his cruelty and relish in the feeling of being used.
Slowly, he moved his hand to reach to the side of your face before tapping your lips in a way that asked for your permission to open up - to which, of course, you complied.
“Just a couple more, princess. Okay?” It had been a while by this point, your face was soaked with tears and your thighs were drenched in your own fluids. Your ass was red hot and growing hotter with every spank. “Just need you to tell me how sorry you are, otherwise I wont know if I can trust you to be good.”
Instantly, you replied - flooding his ears with sobbing pleas and continuous sorrys. He smirked and stopped his merciless attack on your ass before stroking the skin softly and affectionately. He lifted you up so that you sat on his lap and you winced slightly, resulting in a cunning grin forming on Eren’s lips.
You hadn’t been this wet all night, if Eren didn’t fuck you right now you thought you would lose your mind.
“Eren, I want you to fuck me.”
Raising an eyebrow at you, he sat you down next to him before standing up and looming over you - taking your cheek in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. “I don’t know about that.”
“I’ve waited all night, you can’t just-” 
“Yes I can.” He cut you off harshly and you stopped your sentence abruptly. He sighed like you were inconveniencing him. “I tell you what, if you beg me right now to fuck you - I will.”
You had already lost so much of your pride - you couldn’t lose anymore. He had gotten everything he wanted yet for some reason, after a single taste of greed, he wanted more. 
“I’m not going to beg you, Eren. You’ve gotten everything from me tonight - nobody is ever going to look at me the same again thanks to you. Isn’t that what you wanted? Now, you’ve ruined my reputation, the least you can do is fuck me hard enought that I forget about it.”
Eren’s features portrayed nothing other than irritation. He squeezed your chin tightly and you whimpered almost silently. “Who the fuck are you to be ordering me around? Either, you beg, or I leave. It’s entirely up to you, princess.”
You wanted it so bad. Nobody had ever made you feel the way Eren did. Nobody had ever crossed as many lines and tested you so much in a way that actually turned you on. He hadn’t even touched your pussy, yet you already know he know’s how to please it like he’d been fucking you for years.
But, at the end of the day, you couldn’t risk more than you had. You could spend the rest of your life daydreaming about how good Eren’s dick would feel pounding into you as you sat comfortably knowing you had manage to salvage whatever was left of your crumbling social status and build it back up again - or you could beg him to fuck you right now, and he would tell everyone about what a filthy slut you are who’s just desperate for his cock and your entire life would be in shambles. Who knows, maybe he wouldn’t even fuck you after you begged.
Taking your silence as an answer, Eren hums, before turning back around to unlock the door and reached for the handle.
Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d fuck you, and the two of you would then go about the rest of your lives peacefully knowing you didn’t turn down what would be the best sex of your life.
You craved him - it was Eren that freed every single one of your deepest and darkest fantasies from their cage and let you fulfill them. You needed him to.
“Wait.”
You had moved so swiftly from your seat and now your hand was covering his on the door handle. He didn’t turn to face you, he just waited for you to speak.
The feeling of your hand dragging itself down his body snapped him out of his stubbornness and made him turn to see what you were doing - only to be met with the sight of you on your knees as you parted your lips to speak.
“Please, Eren. I need you so fucking badly, please, I need you to use me and slap me around and hurt me because it feels so good. Nobody’s made me feel this fucking good before and I don’t understand why but I need you to help me Eren because I can’t take it. I can’t take it anymore, I need you so badly it hurts. Please. Please make me feel good, Eren. Please.” Your voice was laced with a tone of pathetic desperation that made Eren’s dick twitch in his pants.
Turning around fully, he looked down at the sight of your hands clawing at his pants as you looked up at him with pleading eyes. 
“Show me.” Eren demanded, his voice somehow lower than ever.
Without thinking twice, you began to unbuckle his belt and tugged down his pants - freeing his cock that was growing harder and more distressed with every second.
Shit - he was big. Bigger than you thought. Of course, you could kind of feel him when he was pressed up against you earlier or when you were bent over his lap - but you hadn’t imagined it was this large. Eren was amused by how impressed you seemed, but chose not to express it.
You started off by stroking the length slowly and kissing the tip before taking it in your mouth.
Eren hissed at the contact, his hand immediately moving to rest on top of your head. Already, you can hardly get enough of the addictive taste of his dick against your tongue and the way it’s drooling with precum.
He’s gritting his teeth, trying to stop himself from making too much noise and boosting your ego.
Yet, when his spongy tip hits the back of your throat he can’t help the groan that slips from his lips whilst your own are sucking him so perfectly - your tongue expertly moving around his length.
You bob your head up and down somewhat slowly, his dick being simply too hard to adjust to so quickly. 
Your soft, warm tongue was stroking his dick so nicely it was driving him insane, and as much as he could do this forever - there was only so much time before people began to get kicked out of the house and told to go home, and whilst Eren had no idea what the time was, he’d hate himself forever if he let this opportunity slip past his fingers.
The longer he was waiting for you to pick up your pace and quit teasing, the more impatient he was growing. He knew damn well what your mouth was capable of, but apparently no matter how much you ran it and how big that mouth of yours could be - his dick was far too much for it.
Eren considered it a gesture of helpfulness when he grabbed the back of your head and started thrusting viciously in and out of your mouth - the tip bulling the back of your throat as you gagged and choked yet showed no sign of resistance.
Theres saliva travelling down your chin and your slobbering all over his cock - it’s all so messy but none of that is on your mind. The only thing you can think of is showing him how much you need him. He makes you so pathetic that you’re shocked the mean bitch you were just a couple of hours ago ever even existed.
So pathetic, that when he moves his foot directly underneath him, you can’t help the overwhelming urge to grind down on his boot. You knew it was risky, you knew that there was a chance it would displease him but you could never stop yourself from acting without thinking things through properly. However, realistically, how were you supposed to think about anything when he was fucking every thought right out of your brain. 
You hoped that he was so consumed by his own pleasure that he wouldn’t have a problem with it - or preferably, that he wouldn’t even notice. Nevertheless, you grinded yourself down against his boot and moaned - the sound muffled by his cock yet the vibrations caused him to groan and his grip on your head grew harder.
It felt so good, the way your hips were dragging your pussy against his boot and giving you the stimulation you had been needing the entire night.
Your hands are gripping at his thighs for some sense of stability as you try to balance yourself whilst he fucks your throat raw and without any regard for yourself - his balls hitting your chin.
Sounds of gurgling and sucking dominated the entire room. It was all so lewd, from the noises the two of you were making to the fact that your hair was becoming a mess and you were drooling dumbly.
“Fuck- you’re such a slut, aren’t you? Doing all of this just so you can get dicked down - so fucking pathetic. I should have expected it from you.”
There are hot tears streaming down your cheeks but you aren’t anywhere near upset. Your makeup is no longer in tact, mascara painting your cheeks.
You can feel all of your senses going practically numb as he fucks them all out of you. You’re struggling to breathe but you’re entirely okay with it - you can barely even moan properly and you can feel the way he’s silently mocking you for it as he continues his brutal pace in your mouth.
Eren is entirely consumed by the pleasure - letting it take over him completely as he mutters out curses and groans deeply whilst keeping a tight grip on your head. He’s losing his mind from the delicious feeling of your mouth taking him so well.
However, he pulls out, evidently not wanting to finish just yet and theres a spark of hope within you that it means he’s convinced and that he’s going to fuck you.
“Shit- that was fuckin’ amazing, princess. Gonna cum all down your throat, next time.”
Next time? Your eyes widened and your heart clenched in excitement at the prospect of there being a next time.
Eren tucks himself back into his pants, that spark of hope dying a bit. He walks over to the bedside table where he placed something before. When he carried it back over to you, you recognised that it was a bottle of beer.
“You want a drink, sweet girl?”
You looked up immediately, wiping the drool of your chin, to see him swirling around the beer in the bottle. “Please…”
Eren smirked in satisfaction as he kneeled down to your level and took your chin in his hand. You tried to reach up for the bottle, but he moved it out of your reach whilst tutting disappointedly.
“Open wide.”
He poured the liquid into your mouth from high above your head, resulting in only some of it going into your mouth as you eagerly took as much as you could while a fraction of it dribbled down your chin and spilled down your breasts. 
He took the bottle away and brought his thumb up to wipe away some of the beer on your chin before slipping it into his own mouth and winking at you.
As he looked down at you, he noticed a wet spot on one of his boots and he raised an eyebrow at you. Shamefully, you turned away.
“Fuck, princess, that fuckin’ desperate are we?” he laughed, yet you couldn’t see the humour in it and there was a slight pout on your lips which was soon wiped away.
That singular spark of hope from before sets ablaze once he picks you up and tosses you on the bed in an instant - removing your shoes and starting on your fishnets and skirt.
Flipping you over so that your back is to him, he rips the wings from your back. “Your no angel, princess, I’ll tell you that.”
You could feel his voice against your neck before he started to suck and bite your neck.
He lifted up your top over your head so that you were now bare in front of him.
His hands were roaming everywhere yet his lips stayed on your neck as he kissed and bit your neck in a possessive manner - as though he was letting the entire world that you belonged to someone - that you weren’t just a slut, you were Eren’s slut.
To your dismay, he stood up from the bed. You turned yourself over to see what he was doing only to find yourself confused when he was rummaging through whoever’s wardrobe it belonged to.
Closing the wardrobe door, he turned to face you with a tie in his hand. Biting your lip, you tilted your head up at him in surprise. Laughing, you asked, “You really gonna tie me up with some stranger’s tie and then fuck me in their bed? And I’m the dirty slut.”
Eren laughed along with you, kneeling in front of you on the bed and forcing you to backup towards the headboard. “They won’t know.”
Taking your hands in a delicate grip, he tied them both together to the metal headboard. The knot was tight, so tight you figured you’d have a lot of trouble ever trying to get out of them without Eren’s help.
His lips hovered over yours for the first time before he pressed them together and plunged his tongue into your mouth - kissing you roughly.
He tasted incredible and his lips were so soft. For the first time, he was being properly gentle with you and he had no clue why.
This entire thing began as a revenge fantasy, so why was he all of a sudden feeling the need to handle you like you were glass. 
One of his hands slipped between your legs and began to play with your soaking pussy. “Shit, princess. So wet.” 
“I need you now, Eren.” You muttered against his lips, snapping him out of whatever daze your lips had put him in.
Bringing his hand back up, he quickly sucked the wetness from your pussy off his fingers and almost groaned at the taste.
Now, he was eager to be inside of you - longing for the feeling of your wet walls hugging his dick so tightly like he knew they would.
“Shit, princess. You think you can take me?” He mocked, a huge smirk plastered on his face and though typically you would have wanted to smack it right off, in that moment, all you could do was whine as you bucked your hips up needily.
He was practically folding your legs like a chair. Both of them rested on his shoulders as he leaned down to kiss your lips before pushing his rock hard cock inside of you. In sync, the two of you moaned at the sensation - and thought that initial pain from the stretch was apparent, so was the feeling of every single one of his veins and the slight curve of his dick.
Once he was fully in, he let you adjust for a moment as the two of you stayed in silence. Eren continued marking your throat as a form of restraining himself from pounding into you ferociously. 
Gradually, he started to slowly move in and out of you - and soon enough his cock was brutally hitting that spot within you that had you gasping and seeing stars.
His lips trailed down to your chest and took one of your nipples into his mouth, twirling his tongue around it as he pistoned his cock into your throbbing cunt.
He was fucking you so roughly that all you could do was lay there and moan loudly - completely unaware of anything other than how his dick was making you feel.
Eren was mesmorised by the feeling of your walls squeezing him so tightly and deciding that he needed to see it. Removing his mouth from your nipple, he sat up and used his hands to keep both of your legs up as he watched the way your pussy hugged him so tightly, refusing to let him go.
“Should have know that all it would take was a bit of dick to get you this obedient and good. A bitch like you just needs some dick to put her in her place, ain’t that right, princess?”
His words were hardly registering in your mind, but just the sound of his voice had you whining and your pussy tightening around his dick, desperate for more.
You could feel every inch of his dick pounding into you and dragging ruthlessly against your walls, causing you to gasp and choke on your own moans.
With all of your effort, you took a deep breath before sputtering out a request. “Wanna- t-touch you, ‘ren, please-!”
He paused his bruising thrusts, and with such a speed you had never seen before undid the knot of the tie without any questions - he simply just did as you had asked like he needed you to touch him as well before going back to pummeling his cock in and out of you.
Your hands went to grasp at his back, clawing at the flesh in an attempt to seize some sort of control. Your fingernails were leaving scratched in their places as they dragged down his back which only had Eren groaning at the painful feeling as he picked up his pace and somehow went impossibly faster and more rough.
“Such a whore, and all for me as well. Nobody else gets to see you like this, not anymore. You’re all mine now, princess. Do you hear me?”
You nodded frantically in response, unable to form any coherent words other than curses and chants of his name. 
The idea of being just his brought you so close to your orgasm. The idea of being able to have his dick inside of you, making you feel this good, whenever you wanted and all you had to do was just be a bit of a brat (which you were amazing at).
Noticing that you were getting closer, due to the fact that your pussy was only getting tighter around his dick and he didn’t think he’d be able to hold on much longer, his hand reached down to play with your pulsating clit in hopes that you’d be able to finish with him. He kissed your face and your lips and stared at you with adoration filling his eyes.
Everything was becoming so much. You were filled to the brim with Eren’s large dick, and the way his skillful fingers were toying with you so effortlessly despite how clouded he was with pleasure made you feel incredible.
“I’m g’nna fill you up with my cum. Shit, I need to see this pussy full with my cum, is that okay, princess?”
You let out a noise of approval as you nodded which was all Eren needed before he finished inside of you and the feeling along with the knowledge of how it was you that he was finishing inside of caused you to reach your high as well.
Eren continued to thrust his dick in and out of you through both of your orgasms as you came in sync. His lips found yours - completely infatuated with the way your lips felt against his and the way you tasted on his tongue.
When Eren pulled out, he was enthralled by the sight of his cum spilling out of your hot pussy as he smirked and used one of his fingers to push what he could back inside of you.
“God, you’re so fucking hot, princess. I’m fuckin’ keeping you, do you hear me? No more of that dare shit - you’re mine permanantly.”
Breathlessly, you replied. “‘M all yours, Eren. Just fuck me like that more often, okay?”
note: it's almost 2am, the ending is rushed and I have college in the morning so i apologise if there are any mistakes. i needed to get this out before I drove myself insane.
671 notes · View notes
altsvu · 3 months
Note
Congrats on 200 bunny!!!! You deserve it 🌸
Can I ask for a Hotch request pls? You can literally write anything you want, any prompt, but pls do the classic ‘we’re barely friends and oops there’s only one bed in this hotel room’ bc it’s my fave trope ever!!
“there’s a first for everything”, they say
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!black!fem!reader
prompts used: 40) “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” 58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” from the 100 smut prompts!
summary: hotch invites you and the rest of the BAU on a vacation to the Bahamas, but his demeanor changes when he sees you and interacts with you outside of the professional setting for the first time.
wc: 1855
tw: pining (mentions of it), teasing, dirty talk, oral sex, p in v sex, mentions of sex, smut in general
a/n: i literally could not find a good gif for this so this will do! also this is a combination of another fic idea that i had so i kinda put a bit of a twist on this, i still hope you enjoy marley!! ❤️ @angelhotchner
criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!
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The BAU had finally gotten vacation time, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep for 24 hours. But when Hotch invited you and the rest of the BAU to the Bahamas, it was hard for you to say no.
You wondered how it would go since you never really interacted with Hotch outside of cases, but maybe he might actually talk to you on a different level.
Then again, you were barely friends with him, acquaintance at most.
When the time finally came to pack for the trip, it was much harder than expected. After about 3 hours, you finally had your suitcases and your carry-on packed and ready to go.
Finally, you and the rest of the team were on the plane. To your luck, you and Hotch were sitting next to each other, with you at the window seat.
“Hey.” he smiled after settling down. You turned and smiled back at him and said hey back.
You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Like really good. His polo was doing him justice showing off his buff arms and chest, and his hair was fluffed to perfection. God, even his hands caught your eyes. His hands were big and veiny and you had recurring thoughts of him putting those hands to work.
On you.
Stop it, you told yourself.
You and Hotch were quiet the beginning of the flight, but you soon engaged in intriguing conversation with him. From expressing feelings about taking a break from all the gore that was part of working at the BAU, to sharing favorite scenes of movies that the both of you watched, that was the first non-work related conversation you’ve had with him.
And it felt amazingly natural, despite the bits of awkwardness in between.
The flight had a 55 minute layover in Miami, which you didn’t know about until you heard on the intercom, which woke you up from your rather comfortable nap.
That was when you noticed you had been napping with your head resting against Hotch’s arm. You quickly sat up and made sure he didn’t notice.
So much for barely friends.
During the layover, you curled up in a chair doing some digital art pieces on your iPad while eating lunch. You made it clear that you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone by putting in your headphones.
Hotch included.
You felt too embarrassed to talk to him after finding out you slept on him.
And didn’t even do anything about it.
He probably felt some type of way.
Or not.
You didn’t even bother figuring out his feelings, instead you spent the rest of the flight making mental notes of what you would do when you finally arrived.
✯✯✯✯
Bikinis were Hotch’s weakness. Well bikinis on you.
How did you know that?
You noticed that he couldn’t help but stare at you from the moment you took off your coverup, and when you walked past him at the beach, when you were resting on your beach chair talking with Penelope and Spencer, or alone reading a book, when you were playing beach volleyball with him, Morgan and JJ, and even when you were sipping on martinis with Rossi and Emily. Other people were checking you out too, but it seemed like Hotch was checking you out the most, admiring how beautiful the baby pink bikini looked against your golden chocolate skin.
So much for barely friends right?
The beach outing with the whole team was fun and you enjoyed your time there but you left the beach earlier than expected, spending some time alone shopping in nearby areas around the hotel. There was no reason in particular, you just liked spending time with yourself any chance you could.
You got back to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch due to availability reasons, and quickly rid yourself of your clothes besides your bra and underwear and prepared to shower.
Until you realized that you forgot to bring your robe. bonnet and shower cap with you in the bathroom.
Hotch just so happened to walk in just as you were looking for it.
“Y/N, are you sleeping in that?”
“Oh shit!” you yelped, scrambling to cover your body. He came over to you after dropping his stuff on the ground. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly.
“Hey.” he whispered. “It’s just me.”
You felt yourself calm down instantly, but it just increased the level of awkwardness between you and him. After your shower, you got dressed for the night, which consisted of an oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and relaxed in bed reading a book.
Hotch laid down next to you about 30 minutes later and you fell asleep moments after.
✯✯✯✯
Waking up in the middle of the night, you felt a warm body lean against you. You turned and gasped in fear until you realized it was Hotch.
"Y/N? Are you okay?" Hotch asked, turning around and placing his hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah sorry, I forgot I was sharing a bed with you for a moment." you breathed.
"I'm sorry I scared you out of your sleep."
You shook your head and turned back around. "It's not your fault."
It was silent between the two of you for a bit, and then Hotch reached over to massage your shoulders. It felt nice, you haven't had a massage in a while, if not ever. It was as if Hotch knew what you needed, what you were thinking about. A slight moan escaped your lips from how good it felt.
"Is that turning you on Y/N?" Hotch chuckled.
"No, it just feels really good."
Liar. It’s turning you on.
"I can make you feel good in other places, if you want."
“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing now?” you said, turning to face him with a smile on your face.
Hotch didn’t reply, instead he pulled you a bit closer to him and caressed your cheek.
“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”
“I do, but please remind me.”
He went into specifics about how he’d been admiring you from a distance and how he was scared to become close friends with you and screw it up.
“Y/N, you truly faze me.” he said at the end.
You felt your cheeks burning up at Hotch practically confessing his love to you. Without notice, he pressed a kiss on your lips. You went back in for more, and next thing you knew, you were on your back with Hotch’s hand lifting up your shirt. You helped him take it off, and there you were, almost naked again in front of him.
“Suddenly you don’t seem so shy to be naked in front of me.” he smiled.
“That’s because before, I was pretending that I didn’t like you.”
“Oh, so you like me.” Hotch murmured in between kisses to your clavicle.
You wanted to respond, but Hotch’s fingers were inching to your boy shorts and you felt yourself clenching up by his touch, so a smile was the best you could have done in the moment.
And next thing you know, they’re off.
You helped Hotch out of his clothes and the two of you were both naked.
In a hotel bedroom.
In the middle of the night.
You never thought you’d ended up this far with Hotch, let alone just being friends, or almost friends, with him. This was going through your mind as he was on top of you, kissing all over your body.
His hand was slowly trailing up your leg, then to your folds. He reached your clit and rubbed soft circles on it, all while pushing his pointer and middle fingers inside you.
With your past experience being intimate with other men, none of them ever made you feel this good with just their fingers. In fact, it was much different than you’ve ever experienced before.
“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you,” Hotch whispered, looking up at you.
You shuddered in pleasure when he said that, it felt reassuring.
He continued doing this through your first three orgasms. It got even more intense when he pulled his fingers out, devoured your juices and smashed his tongue on your opening. At this point you wanted to just grab fistfuls of his hair and moan at the top of your lungs.
Hotch being the profiler he is, knew exactly what you were yearning for.
“It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” he said, looking up at you again with a quirky grin on his face.
Your hands were now full of his soft black hair, reaching the climax of your fourth orgasm.
Before you could reach another one, Hotch stopped what he was doing, laid down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. You shuddered at the feeling of his hands on your waist.
“I want to feel you,” he whispered. “Can I do that?”
“Yes, please.” you pleaded.
He adjusted himself to your opening, and to say you were in shock would be an understatement. The initial thrust almost had you crying out for mercy the way it felt so good. A throaty groan escaped Hotch’s lips.
“You must be enjoying this,” you said.
“I am. You’re so good to me.”
That made you blush as you loved words of affirmation.
It was like Hotch knew everything about you. He knew all the right things to say, and all the right places to touch you. In a way, his job as a profiler never ended.
He switched positions so that he was on top of you, passionately looking into your eyes while doing so. He was the one with the mastery in eye contact.
At this point, you already knew the bonnet was off and the knotless braids you had in would get a bit frizzy at the top. But you didn’t care. Hotch was making you feel better than ever, filling that certain void in your life.
He had your legs up and thrusted into you with everything in him, and it made you moan in a way you never imagined you could do.
Another climax was approaching and you could feel it. You came faster than expected with Hotch in your ear whispering for you to do it for him. Short moments later, he was right there with you with his high.
“So much for not even being friends.” You laughed softly.
Hotch pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “So much, huh?”
“What do you think the others are gonna say when they find out? I know one of them heard us.”
“I’m glad they heard. Maybe they’ll talk about how loud you got for me.”
That made you giggle.
“Anyways, my special agent, we have to sleep soon. Or there might be more rounds.”
And surely enough, the two of you slept in each other’s arms after cleaning up, and you slept way better than you did before being woken up.
✯✯✯✯
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