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#it is FALL I AM SO HAPPY IT'S GONNA BE A GOOD ONE I CAN FEEL IT
beauty-and-passion · 2 days
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TMA - Chapters 41-50: Everyone is Michael
Hello people, welcome back to the beginning of TMA season 2! Ten more chapters are waiting and I am ready to find out if this season is gonna start with a bang or not.
I have high expectations.
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MAG 40.1 - Season 2 Trailer
Oh, a trailer! And it was… absolutely incomprehensible and cryptic af. All I got is that a trapdoor should’ve been locked, which translated from author-to-reader means: “The trapdoor is open and some weird supernatural shit will come out of it during the season”.
Well played, Mr. Sims. Now I really want to know more.
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MAG 41 - Too Deep
Ooooh, statement of Jonathan Sims? And it’s about the recently discovered tunnels! I love that we start season 2 directly from where we left in season 1: Jon is recovering, Jane Prentiss is recently dead (I suppose they burned her, considering the ashes) and there are a shit ton of tunnels to explore.
Also, Jon is now paranoid. Great, that’s exactly what he needed.
Jokes aside, this is an amazing choice from a writing perspective, because it’s perfectly justifiable. Jon got assaulted by Jane Prentiss and her worms on July 29th, now it’s September 2nd. It’s been a little more than one month, of course he’s still haunted by the idea that Jane (or other things) might be alive and spying on him.
Even if the feeling of being watched is not just paranoia. I bet everything that it’s Big Brother’s fault for that.
And just to confirm my words, it seems that the Archives have been built on part of this ex Millbank prison, which was built by following the idea of the Panopticon. You know, the prison centered around the idea of making the prisoners feel like they’re always watched, thanks to the central tower.
I love the idea of the Panopticon: it’s extremely cool and I’m very happy to see it here too… but it also proves I am right and Big Brother is some supernatural shit who watches everyone and has something like one million eyes or whatever.
The goddamn weird tunnels. And what about that incorporeal voice telling Jon to leave, right after inviting him to go down? I am extremely curious now, I want to know more! Who was it? Big Brother? Another supernatural shit?
Ah, so Jon will now add supplements to the statements, hide them from his staff just like he hid the existence of the second tape recorder and will put these parts away with precise instructions for his replacement, in case he dies. Great, so he’s this paranoid. Basically one step away from being pathological.
Fine, from one side, I can understand him because he faced some heavy shit not too long ago and he cannot trust anyone. So his sentence “Trust can get you killed” is understandable.
But I also watched Gravity Falls and I’ve learned that “trust no one” doesn’t help, especially if there is a demon watching/haunting you. So please, Jon: please. Be safe. Don’t pull a Dipper Pines on us. Don’t force me to start calling you Jon Dipper. Or Jipper.
And trust someone before some bad shit happens. You’re trying to find Gertrude Robinson’s killer and we all know it was Elias (don’t “first suspect” me and yourself, we both know it was him). So, since Elias already killed one person and he’s in cahoots with the Lukas family, you REALLY need as many allies as possible.
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MAG 42 - Grifter’s Bone
Here we are, back with simple, meh statements. This time, it’s “weird supernatural band kills with their weird supernatural music”. It’s a shame we don’t see how they do it, I would’ve loved to see the whole process. But I also understand that leaving this to the reader’s imagination is a good choice to make something scary.
Also, Alfred Grifter looking up after the massacre and asking “Encore?” is probably the most badass move of the series until now. He might be some minor supernatural shit, but that was a real power move. I respect him a little bit after this.
Glad to notice Jon’s skepticism is back too, but after the end of season 1, now I know why he does it and I understand. Also, his skepticism doesn’t seem as “stubborn” as before and that’s another great writing choice because it shows how all these supernatural shits are affecting him.
Also, since Jon is in Paranoia Land now, I suppose that emphasizing skepticism helps him hide his true intentions, which are… sigh, controlling Martin. Seriously, can this poor guy take a vacation? First the worms, then Jane Prentiss, now Jipper. Martin can’t even be competent, that his boss will question it - all while insulting his poetic skills. The paranoia made Jon even more of an asshole than before.
What? Martin is worried about the others finding out he’s been lying? Lying about what? Jane Prentiss? His supposed incompetence? His poetic skills? His need to go on vacation? In any of these cases, don’t worry, Martin: just take your stuff and go as far away from this Institute as possible.
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I still dream something like this for Martin.
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MAG 43 - Section 31
I feel Basira will be a recurring character from now on. I mean, she is currently working on Gertrude’s case and she is a Section 31 - i.e. she dealt with supernatural shits before. But she’s not the only one: we also have Alice “Daisy” Tonner, who came in contact with “spider husks” and, for me, that means one thing only: “Spider Mom & gang”. So I bet these two women will probably be involved again with any other supernatural shit happening in this Institute.
It was also very cool to find out the name of the guy from MAG 12: Diego Molina. And I remember that, when he and Gerard were brought to the hospital, Gerard asked if Diego had “a small book bound in red leather and a brass pendant with an eye design”. The eye pendant is probably related to Big Brother, while the red book basically confirmed it was one of Leitner’s chaos books. I already suspected this considering Gerard was after that, but glad to see an implicit confirmation.
Speaking of the supplement, Jon gained access to the tapes in Gertrude’s room and I’m glad about that because we will surely find something cool and scary. But I’m also sure that’s the easiest way for Jon to get himself killed, so I’m a bit scared for his life.
Also, how weirdly cute is this part?
“I only ever spoke to Gertrude once or twice during her time as archivist. I-I was very new. I don’t remember what her voice sounded like.”
Jon sounds so young, here. Almost like a child. I mean, I imagined he was in his thirties or something, but I actually have no idea how old is he. Is he younger? How old is he?
Also, it’s just nice to see this little moment of him being so… soft and human, with his predecessor. He barely knew her, he barely spoke to her, he probably looked at her and saw just an older, stern figure. But now, he’s in the same position. They became a lot closer than they ever were. It’s fascinating - and there’s a lot of potential for angst too, so I’ll brace myself for it.
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MAG 44 - Tightrope
A statement recorded by Gertrude! it was such a pleasant surprise to finally hear her voice! And she sounds amazing <3
As soon as I heard it was a statement from a guy in Algasovo, I felt it was connected to something I already knew. I remembered there was a circus mentioned in season 1 and, after a little bit of research, I found it: MAG 24, Цирк другого: the Circus of the Other. Ringmaster Gregor Osinov and organist Nikolai Denikin - whose granddaughter recorded the abovementioned statement.
Sure, here it’s called Другой Цирк, which is correctly translated as “Another Circus”. So my question is: which is correct? Did the circus change its name? MAG 44 is from the 70s, while the photo mentioned in MAG 24 was from 1948. Maybe the circus was called Цирк другого, then it changed its name after Denikin left and became Другой Цирк. Anyway, it was very interesting to read and I was so sure it was the smae circus mentioned before (despite the different names). So when Jon mentioned Gregor Osinov, my smile grew bigger than ever :D
Speaking of Jon, he asks some very interesting questions: Gertrude knows a lot more than it seems. And she didn’t finish recording everything in the archive. Why? Was that her way to oppose Big Brother/the Lukas family/the “crimson curse”? Maybe Big Brother can “eat” these statements, so by stopping her recordings, Gertrude was voluntarily leaving it hungry, as a sort of “fuck you, I won’t get eaten by you” kind of thing.
Or maybe she just wanted to not do her job anymore, thus provoking the Lukas family to fire her for not doing anything. Or maybe she was just too busy trying to find a way to escape, to record statements like an insane you-know-who who keeps recording stuff because he wants to find out the truth even if the truth can get him killed.
Did someone find Jon’s tapes? Or is he in full Jipper mode and maybe the drawer wasn’t even ajar? In any case, now he’s hiding them too, which reminds me of Gertrude and her secret hidden library and I don’t like the parallel at all. I don’t want to see Jon dead on a chair, in a room, surrounded by his secret library.
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MAG 45 - Blood Bag
Another meh statement, even if this time I’m quite perplexed by the weird turn of events.
I mean, once Dr. Thompson sold his syringe, there was a sudden spike in heat, the ‘haemoglobish’ became real blood and the mosquitoes decided to wait for their moment to kill the doctor. They’re a lot of weird consequences and they don’t seem too connected either - especially the heat. Why is there always some heat involved?
While speaking of the mosquitoes planning revenge… yes, this is the most plausible thing. These little bitches always plan revenge on everyone.
So, the doctor’s buyer is “Indonesian, I think, or Samoan”. It’s Salesa, isn’t it? Yep, Jon confirms it. Well, I suppose he will be another recurring character. And if Gerard can smell Leitner’s book, Salesa can smell any supernatural shit and make a profit from it. In this case, I suppose the syringe was a real lucky charm or whatever, considering how everything degenerated once the doctor got rid of it.
“Can’t stand mosquitoes. Horrible things.”
You and me, Jon. You and me. Glad to know that, even if he’s in full Jipper mode, he can still be very relatable.
I know Jon was super paranoid with Martin, but he might have a point about Tim. I mean, a guy with this resume decides to work in a place that isn’t so appreciated by normal people? And he doesn’t seem too interested in the supernatural either. Why is he here, to bribe people to get info and do whatever the fuck he wants? If that’s the reason… honestly, mood. I loved him before, I would just appreciate him even more for the power move.
Jonathan Sims, Master at Hiding Things, gets caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds because he’s so clever to record his paranoid thoughts in the middle of a working day, in a place where everyone can enter. A genius.
But now I’m curious to know where he will go to record these statements. I can almost see him, all crammed up into a closet, while Martin searches for him with a cup of tea in his hand.
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MAG 46 - Literary Heights
Oh gosh, I LOVE this chapter.
First of all, as soon as Michael Crew was mentioned, I immediately checked the previous chapters and here he was: MAG 17, the Boneturner’s Tale. Also, if my last theory is correct, Michael Crew and Supernatural Micheal are the same thing. And you know what? I think this statement confirmed it. But one thing at a time.
Second: my man Leitner! Ex Altiora my beloved! We finally know where it was and what it is! It’s a poem and I ADORE the plot. It’s such a perfect mix of weird, suspense and desperation… uuuurgh, I’m so mad I can’t read it, because this plot can be developed into a fantastic story.
And now, let’s put together all the pieces we have:
Michael Crew is interested in the Leitner.
Michael Crew has “a branching pattern of white scar tissue” on himself.
Jon reminds us that, in MAG 4, Mr. Swain said there was a “woodcut of the dark night sky, with the branching, arching design of the Lichtenberg figure” inside Ex Altiora.
This drawing isn’t mentioned by Mr. Knox here.
Lichtenberg figures have a branched shape, similar to the shape of lightning discharges, and appear on the surface/inside insulating materials during dielectric rupture. But they can also appear on lightning victims.
They are also “natural phenomena which exhibit fractal properties”.
In MAG 4, Mr. Swain says Michael Crew got struck by lightning when they were kids.
Michael Crew is surrounded by smells associated with lightning and electric discharges.
Michael Crew has been followed by a tall, thin figure, “its limbs angular and branching”.
Supernatural Michael has angular and branching limbs.
Supernatural Michael Is associated with fractals too.
The figure also “crackled and fizzed, lit by a strobing white light, as though the lightning was within the room itself”.
When Michael Crew reaches the bell tower, the prays something with the words “altiora,” “vertigo,” and “the vast”. then he says “I’m yours”, leaps through the open window and disappears.
Now, here’s my explanation:
Micheal Crew was followed by a supernatural shit. This supernatural shit was the same immense figure mentioned in the poem of Ex Altiora.
Micheal probably came into contact with it when he was a child and got struck by the lightning. Since then, he started to resonate with Vertigo/the Vast just like Jane Prentiss started to resonate with the Hive.
(Also, since Jane Prentiss’ supernatural shit was “the hive”, I think I’ll call this one “the vast” because it was a bit odd that he specifically said “the vast” with a definite article)
So, since Michael Crew came into contact with the Vast and started to resonate with it, he was accompanied by smells associated with lightning/electric discharges and he started to search for all kinds of magic books, trying to find a way to properly connect with it/being consumed by it, just like Jane Prentiss did with the Hive.
In Prentiss’ case, she connected through the wasps’ nest and got “consumed” by the Hive. Michael Crew tried to do the same by using different methods mentioned in the books, but failed. He had to find something stronger to connect to the Vast. And that something turned out to be a tale featuring the Vast itself, told by my man Leitner.
So Michael got it and waited for a storm. And as soon as the storm came, he ran towards it, calling for the Vast. And when the Vast appeared, it looked like that figure similar to an actual lightning.
Michael sang/prayed for it (please notice how Mr. Knows refers to his words like a chant first and a prayer later, just like Jane Prentiss talked about the song of the Hive. These little shits truly talk through songs) and closed his invocation, by saying “I’m yours”, which can be also read as “I give my body to you”.
And so, he jumped. And by doing that, he gave his body to the Vast and the Vast became him. And that turned him into Michael the Supernatural Shit, also known as Best Boyo of this series.
If all of this is true, then:
it’s very cool
his name isn’t Mr. Distortion, but Mr. Vast. Still cool, but Best Boyo is better :P
And if this is true, that also means my previous Leitner theory was completely wrong. His books don’t turn you into the protagonist: his books are about the real, actual supernatural shits living in this world and by getting the right one, it’s easier to connect to the supernatural shit in question. They’re like… facilitators, in a way.
That also puts into question Gerard’s work. What is he actually doing, by searching and destroying all Leitner’s books? Maybe he’s saving the world, because without books it’s more difficult to connect to these supernatural shits. But destroying the books doesn’t mean getting rid of the supernatural shits themselves and these books might actually be useful to recognize all supernatural shits and “catalog” them. I don’t know, I need more info about these two guys and what they’re actually doing.
And yes, there’s also Spider Mom taking possession of the hidden tunnels of the institute and she’s probably the one who opens the door and maybe she even walks around in her human form and that’s very cool too. Just… how fricking cool is this statement?! I think it’s among my top favorites, along with MAG 2, MAG 5, MAG 20, MAG 26 and MAG 39.
(Now that I think about it, I should probably do a top of my favorite statements once I finish the whole series. It would be fun.)
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MAG 47 - The New Door
Holy shit. Just holy shit.
I thought this was just a simple statement. A statement featuring a tall blonde guy. And yes, I was 200% sure it was Michael. But I just though he appeared and did some weird supernatural shit.
For a while, he did it: he made a door in that house, Mrs. Richardson got lost inside it for three days and escaped just because one of the mirrors was “empty” and didn’t reflect Michael. So she did what everyone who met a supernatural shit did: she went to the Institute. My theory about “hiding behind a bigger predator” seems even more convincing.
I loved the little moment when Mrs. Richardson asked Jon if he believed her and Jon admitted that yes, he believes her. It’s a tiny exchange of words, but it’s enough to show the massive change in Jon from season 1. Before, he would’ve been more stern and showed more skepticism (fake or real whatsoever). But now, after all he went through, he’s showing a softer, more empathetic side. Jon is truly evolving as a character.
And speaking of characters, time to talk about the real shit and time to overanalyze everything:
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Michael’s voice is perfect
First of all, I ADORE Michael. Sorry Tim, you deserve the world, but Michael’s soft laughs and the way he gently mocks Jon because he’s this powerful supernatural shit while Jon is just a mere human it’s just too adorable. His voice is too adorable. And the distortion effect makes him very creepy - but still extremely adorable. I love him so much.
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Domains?
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This part about domains is very fascinating and, in a way, it confirms my theory about the supernatural shits having territories like mafia bosses.
But it seems like they don’t simply take a place and own it. It’s a bit like they are these places. As if these domains are an appendix of them. So I suppose Michael doesn’t simply “make doors pop up”: he is the doors and the corridors. such a cool concept, it makes these supernatural shits look even more eldritch and… well, supernatural. Love it.
But also: if my theory about Big Brother is correct, does that mean Big Brother isn’t just hidden in the Magnus Institute, but is the Institute? Mmmh, I need more details.
It’s also very interesting how Michael refers to Mrs. Richardson as “the Wanderer”. Since it doesn’t seem like Mrs. Richardson is a supernatural shit, I suppose that “the Wanderer” is a name to identify the people who enter the domain of a supernatural shit and become food. But since calling them “food” isn’t nice, Michael (and maybe other supernatural shits) opted for a more sophisticated name, like “the Wanderer”.
Also, Michael reconfirms he’s a poet and I love him so much.
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The concept of identity (and maybe my theory already failed?)
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That’s another interesting part. Michael considers itself a “what”, because “it requires a degree of identity I can’t ever retain”. And this connects to its domain: since it’s so huge and can “overlap” reality by creating new spaces inside it (inanimate spaces), it was probably easier for Michael to identify itself as a “what” rather than a “who”.
But this distorted appearance made me think: wait, probably my brand new theory about Michael as Mr. Vast is completely wrong.
If Michael’s power is being distorted and making weirdly long, distorted corridors (that confirms Michael was probably the voice who told Jon to leave, when he explored the tunnels in MAG 41), that doesn’t line up with the previous statement, where the Vast’s power was related to lightning and to being this colossal figure.
At the same time, Michael laughs with a weird, distorted effect as if it’s more people in one figure and this detail seems coherent with my theory.
So I think there are two possible solutions now:
my theory is correct and Michael can both be hugely vast and very distorted
my theory is wrong and Michael Crew just offered himself to another supernatural shit
Or maybe the correct option is:
3. Mr. Sims is the biggest troll of all mankind and he made a series in which every supernatural shit is named Michael and this explains why everyone is named Michael and why Michael is such a familiar name. If this is true I would respect him even more.
Jokes aside, I really need more information now. Especially I need Michael (this one at least) to talk about itself and its powers. And maybe all other Michaels should talk a bit about themselves too. At least enough to confirm if my theory is right or wrong.
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A war?!
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No, wait, you cannot drop this bomb, tease us like this, then leave. Stay here and explain!
Okay, so the Institute is important. It should stay where it is, because losing it would bring imbalance in the hidden war that’s going on - between supernatural shits, I suppose.
In MAG 41, Jon said the Archives stand on an ex-prison, built around the concept of the Panopticon. This could explain why this place is needed: a place from where you can spy on everything and everyone is a great leverage in a war.
My question is: what are the sides of this war? I suppose that one side is Big Brother and maybe the weird supernatural fog of the Lukas family, but the other? The supernatural meat? And the spider gang? On which side was Jane Prentiss with the Hive?
And what are they all fighting for? To take over the world? To eat as many humans as possible? Or maybe the “All Michael theory” is correct and since all these shits are named Michael, they decided that the last one standing will officially take the name Michael and all others will have to choose another name? All while Best Boyo Michael decided “fuck this shit, I’ll keep this name anyway because it’s just a name and my identity is more than this”?
You know what? I love the All Michael Theory. It’s stupid and yet it somehow works. If it’s true, it would immediately turn the whole series from dramatic to comic, but I love it.
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MAG 48 - Lost in the Crowd
Oooh, a statement settled in Italy! Never visited Genoa, but now it deserves a visit. After all, I already think about this goddamn series every time I see a spider and have to kill it, so why not going to Genoa and fearing weird supernatural shits? Apparently, they love to go anywhere. Was this one taking a vacation?
Speaking of vacations: honestly, I never expected to see my man Gerard, rebel punk and goth, chilling in Italy with a bright shirt on. I hope you’re also wearing some nice shorts, Gerard. And no combat boots. Or sandals with socks. The Italian fashion police can be way worse than any supernatural shits.
So, my man went to Mrs. Nunis, told her she was “marked” and told her to think about her mother. To remember her. To, you know, feel less alone. I immediately thought about Naomi and how she too felt alone, when the mysterious fog tried to “eat” her in MAG 13.
But this time there wasn’t really a fog: the sunny day simply became overcast. So maybe the fog isn’t supernatural but… the clouds are? But then, what about the weird fog from MAG 33? Or maybe, the fog simply hides the real supernatural shit, which is this weird faceless crowd. And this time the fog was on vacation too.
Or maybe Italy’s weather is too warm for the thick UK fog, so the fog dispersed and left only the crowd. I’ll admit it, it would be hilariously funny if a supernatural shit is simply an atmospheric element end you can get rid of it by traveling far enough or by using, idk, an electric fan.
So one question remains: what was Gerard doing in Italy? Was he truly searching for a Leitner? Or maybe he was really taking a vacation? I like to think it’s the second one: unlike Jon “Trust No One” Sims and Martin “Self-preservation is overrated” Blackwood, my man Gerard knows when it’s time to get the fuck out and take a vacation. So he left all the supernatural shits and books to chill on a beach, take a cafè and eat some real food.
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Great choice, Gerard, Genoa is a beautiful place.
Speaking of the supplement, Jon realized Michael was warning him about Sasha! But unfortunately, thanks to Not!Sasha’s evil powers, Jon cannot understand what the problem with her is. Damn you, evil imposter! Give Sasha back!
Jon “Jipper” Sims, Master of Secrecy, after being caught by Martin in 0.2 seconds, got caught both by Martin and Tim again and they both immediately realized Jon was spying on them. So they reported him to Elias.
See? See where “trust no one” brings you, Jon? Please, stop spying on them like a creep. why don’t you start spying Elias, instead? He’s the most suspicious guy that ever walked on this planet, why the fuck are you wasting time with your team when you have him?
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MAG 49 - The Butcher’s Window
I read the title and I immediately was: “The meat is back, isn’t it?”
But it’s not just the meat, it’s our old friend Jared! And he does incredibly weird creepy things! And I like them, because they’re creepy without being gorey. You know, it’s just too easy to use gore: scaring without gore is harder and I appreciate it.
Also, what the fuck is the weird… underground superleech he’s feeding? Is that the boneturner? Is this the name of this supernatural shit? After all, every supernatural shit seems to have a name that starts with the definite article: the hive, the vast, the boneturner.
And if we add up all the things we discovered until now, that means that Jared became the Boneturner/the body of the Boneturner thanks to the Leitner’s book that “facilitated” the connection and, since he became that thing, that thing also became him. So the underground creepy superleech is still part of him and by feeding it, he’s feeding himself too.
You know, the whole process of feeding it was creepy, fine, but it made me smile too because… come on, it looks like a guy throwing snacks at his dog. That’s funny.
But not as funny as the mental image of this weird superleech I got, that resembles something like this:
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This is a sea lamprey. It’s not a leech, but it’s the closest animal to represent what I imagined. And yes, this is a real living creature on this planet. You’re welcome, glad to know this will haunt your dreams too.
A-ah! We finally got more info about Elias! I knew it was weird that he managed to go from filing clerk to head of the Institute, but I had no idea he became head of the Institute just in five goddamn years. What did he do, did he kill everyone else? Did he kill James Wright too? Did this man also “die on the job” as Gertrude?
Also, how absolutely, insanely funny is it to think that Elias was a pothead? I read it and I was like… what? This guy?! I always imagined him like a posh guy and now you tell me he was smoking crack or whatever? That’s too funny, I love that and it would be hilarious if that’s the reason why he killed everyone else: not because of the Lukas family, not because of the supernatural shits: just because he wants to hide his past.
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MAG 50 - Foundations
Oooh, another old statement addressed to Jonah Magnus! I suppose that’s how the Institute started: with this guy walking back and forth inside his house, surrounded by creepy stories. A bit like Jon now. And nope, I don’t like this parallel.
The story itself is very meh. It’s not really creepy nor scary, just “mysterious guy appears outside an office” and “fingers on a stone uuuh”.
This statement probably served to remind us about Robert Smirke’s existence. Jon probably forgot, but I remember that in season 1, he said Tim mentioned him an architect he was obsessed with and this architect was Robert Smirke. So I suppose this guy is important.
We also have Sir George Gilbert Scott now. When Mr. Kempthorne said Scott’s projects had odd symmetries and seemed claustrophobic, they reminded me of the underground tunnels of the Institute. Is it possible that one of these guys is responsible for the construction of the ex Millbank prison? I suppose only time will tell.
I died laughing when Tim thought Jon was hitting on Basira. How he went from “That woman is weird” to “Good job boss, get her”. He’s the best, I love him.
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In conclusion
Oh my, what a start for season 2! We have more Michaels than ever, too many theories and lots of mysteries I still can’t grasp.
I want more. I want to know more about Michael, I want to find out which theory is correct. Is Michael Crew one of the many identities of Best Boyo Michael? Is Michael vast and distorted or they’re two different Michaels? Is every supernatural shit named Michael? Is Elias just a pothead trying to survive in a world full of supernatural shits? Is Gerard still on holiday?
We’ll meet back soon with ten more chapters.
>> Next post
(How about a coffee? ☕)
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hecksupremechips · 4 days
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Actually cry so goddamn hard when I think about Shinjiro Aragaki healing and being loved and having to learn to be okay with himself and being taken care of
#writing him has just been like. OOOOWOEOEOEOOE i piss tears i cant handle this shit this gay ass shit#i came up with an idea for just like a cute short one shot i wanna do soon and hnnnghh im so emo about it#very healing its like very hard to write some of the shit im gonna be writing cuz basically#some of it is just a little too real man and while i crave the angst and the drama i am just like#AND THEN EVERYONE HOLDS HANDS AND ITS OKAY PLEASE DONT CRY PLEASE#and ive mentioned how shinji has accidentally become nb to me now because i just kinda happened to write him that way without meaning to#and now another thing im noticing is that in my fic hes kinda bpd coded#it definitely wasnt intentional but now im accepting it as truth no one can stop me#i just really need him to be happy its more important to me than anything else man i need it for me#and he needs to be gay with aki they need to kissy and i think its funny cuz even in the parts where shinji is mad at aki and pushing him#away its like. he kinda has it bad lol and its clear he feels no actual hatred towards aki but more just self deprecation because he doesnt#feel good enough and like idk i just think about their respective roles in society like#aki is an honor student star boxer hero very attractive very kind very popular got adopted by a rich family#hes going places you know meanwhile shinji is a drop out who never had a family ever hes homeless hes sketchy hes on drugs#his reputation couldnt be any worse and he just leans into it and feels he has no future and hes worthless garbage#and aki could literally have anyone he wants you know he has an army of girls pining over him but he doesnt want them#HE WANTS SHINJI AND NO ONE ELSE HE SPENDS YEARS CHASING AFTER HIM#and shinji HATES it hes trying so hard to push him away and be the crusty delinquent and make aki see how worthless he really is#but aki just doesnt stop he loves him so much makes me sick SICK#and shinji really loves him back hes like not gonna shut up ever about aki hes like either doing it in a gay ass annoyed way#or hes like ‘haha omg aki is so cute though hes always trying so hard to be tough but hes just so sweet and gentle you know i hope he#doesnt push himself too hard if he got hurt id fall apart hes so silly i hope hes eating good i desire him carnally’#yeah sorry gamers this is just a pairing i cant be normal about they mean so much to me personally the fate of the world rests upon them
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pepprs · 8 months
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discovered miah_pie on t*ktok (<- i don’t have one btw i just stumbled upon her bc someone i follow on ig talked abt her) and her videos make me want to cry so bad. 24 year old dependent moment
#purrs#i went to a clothing store today to try to get new work shoes and pants bc the one pair i have of each literally have holes in them and are#falling the fuck apart on my body and it was a HORRIBLE experience largely bc i think everybody in town was out shopping for back to school#so it was super crowded and there were lots of screaming kids and it was extremely stressful + my dad got into a mini car accident while i w#was in the store (he was / is completely fine thankfully but the car is not which is so awesome 😍😍😍😍😍) and i was just so stressed and#overstimulated but also like… nothing fits me bc im so short lol. but anyway it was so horrible i was on the verge of starting to cry in the#store and then i came home empty handed and my mom got super pissed at me for… needing to go to the store / being the reason we were out lol#and then finding miah pie and her videos are all about making trips to the store SO much fun and buying little treats and saying yessir and#OHHHHHH MYYYYY and just finding the joy in smth that can be so stressful and unpleasant… it makes me want to cry happy and sad tears at the#same time like i want that soooo bad and i can’t do it fully yet but i want it. need it. fuck my stupid baka life#anyways im gonna start saying the stuff she says just to make myself feel better even when im not at a store. yessir! OHHHHHH MYYYYYY.#acquired. don’t mind if i diddly dooooo!#also btw i am not a dependent except for the ways i am a dependent. hope that helps 🫶🏻#the problem is really that i don’t have a car or a license and also that my mom throws a fit every time i need / want to get driving#practice bc it’s never a good time so. lol 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 me doing drivers ed this summer was a fucking joke i forget literally everything i#learned and have only been behind the wheel 3 times and none of them have actually counted bc im just developing basic motor skills#(literally). fmlllll im never getting out of here who am i kidding 🤪#delete later
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stereax · 1 month
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woohoo spiraling out of control right now (what else is new really I've been fucked up and spiraling for weeks now) and trying to figure out reasons not to delete my tumblr and discord and myself along the way
but you know. talking about myself on my blog automatically means I'm attention seeking and fishing for pity right? should just shut up and stick to the news eh, it's all I'm good for :D
anyway if you need me I'll be in the corner reliving the past, coming to terms with reality, and trying to convince myself I'm not the problem despite every indication to the contrary ✌︎︎
#sterechats :)#09:58 pm - this is a bad idea but scheduling it anyway#what's the worst that can happen really? everyone leaves again? nobody talks to me again?#probably gonna delete this in the morning so. meh. not like it matters not like I matter :D#10:29 pm - wow it feels like my head is on fire#like my brain is actually burning and I can't do a damn thing about it#I should be happy right now! the devils are winning! my favorite guys are scoring!#but no! I'm barely keeping it together around my family and praying I don't wake up tomorrow <3#11:00 pm - I need to get out of here#I need to get out of here out of here out of here I can't stay here any more this is killing me#everyone hates me and I need to chew my arms open maybe then everything will make sense#why am I even writing these tags what does it matter#I was so much more in control of myself when I was sh-ing#maybe I should get back to that maybe it'll help I don't know anymore#I just want my friends back but they hate me hahahaha#11:24 pm - wonder how many people are gonna block me after this one#how many people will finally be fed up and leave for good#everyone leaves and I should be used to this by now#here's a truck stop instead of saint peter's (yeah yeah yeah yeah)#11:41 pm - it's friday afternoon/there goes antigone to be buried alive#in the next world I want to be something useful/like a staple gun/or in love#I would fall off a cliff for you/a thousand times and call it a good day#maybe I'm just incapable of being human! maybe that's it!#maybe I'm not even human at all... but something worse instead...#1:22 am - moving the posting of this back from 3 to 6 am#not that that matters and not that I matter but I don't think I'll sleep#and I don't want this to post when I'm awake#I know I'm just going to get unfollowed and blocked and left behind as always#because happiness and good things and friendships just aren't things I get to have really#I just wish people would stop lying and telling me they're different and they'll stay when they're not different and won't stay
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kaserolly · 11 months
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The past 2 days I've spent cleaning and rearranging stuff all around the shelves next to my worktable and I've just realised today how much I needed to do this... And it feels so rewarding and fulfilling 😌
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munamania · 2 years
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ok had another ‘deep’ convo or whatever with this girl (until 4 in the morning amazing since i had to be up early today) and she really is a lovely person. and i still like her so much. but i feel like i had this sinking feeling of oh jesus christ i don’t know if i can ever say something to you about this
#i mean. we talked about a Lot clearly and i feel like. idk if she is really truly just straight and im an idiot#or if she’s maybe. bi and not willing or needing to like worry about it. yk#and i’m genuinely so happy after everything we’ve talked about that she’s in like a good place and i really#do adore just. this strange dynamic we’ve built. but how much did i overestimate how much it meant to her?#ok well hang on. how much did i possibly mistake tension for… well idk. her just being someone that likes attention and us both enjoying#just talking about whatever. lol#because she is very kind and even if i am mistaking the feelings she’s still very thoughtful toward me and i appreciate that#like she’s a good friend. that unfortunately i’ve had the thought of. oh no if we keep talking am i gonna fall in like one sided love here#hopefully i can keep that under control if i can keep the expectations managed lol#i don’t know what to think whatever!!!!!!!!!!!!#film girl saga#like it feels like we’re building this foundation of trust and comfort and we’ve talked explicitly about sexuality and perception and#idk a bunch of shit. idek how many times now. and i just don’t. sigh#i don’t think she would stop being friends with me but it’s the classic well great now i don’t want it to be weird#and maybe we have a strange enough dynamic that it could easily pass lol idk.#she unfortunately knows how overthinky i am now and i know a little more abt how her thought process works#and it’s like we’re circling these conversations and i’m petrified to know if she ever. has Perceived the feelings. and either#gotten caught up in that and confused or still just enjoyed the conversation enough to look past it. or whatever another altnerative could b
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arsonist-chicken · 7 days
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I am once again asking for the tiniest bit of self-discipline to finish stuff on time so I don't start it at 2:15am when it's due at 9am and I'll have class the whole day until 7pm afterwards.
#and then i have to go to the library to finish (start writing) the stupid expose that's. three months overdue. and the final final deadline#is this sunday#so... i guess we're going in for another round of 36+h of not sleeping?#thought i'd left at least that behind. i mean my brain is already lagging now#please i want to cry why can i not do stuff on time for once in my goddamn life#or even just early enough to have it done at 2am and not start it at 2am when i have to get up at 8 😭😭😭😭😭#there's three of us in that class and the other two i don't know and i'm gonna fall asleep in class 😭#and then at the library probably too#i hate this i hate it here i hate my brain i hate everyone who cheerfully goes 'but there's upsides to adhd :)'#how nice! i didn't get those! i just got the executive dysfunction slowly leading to depression and exhaustion and possibly burnout!#like man i want to be happy for adhd people who get the high creativity or whatever but i didn't get that either#i'm also not good at improvising or reacting fast in emergency situations like man. where's my positive sides of this bs#okay okay okay. now. opening the window and making some black tea and hoping the caffeeine will work for me not against me#and maybe i'll still catch an hour or two of sleep before class#it's even a good one but god i hate presentations in front of people i don't know#especially if it's only two like where am i supposed to look. give me at least a bunch of people so i can disappear in the crowd afterwards#and also not look at a bunch of people instead of doing the awkward trying to make an appropriate amount of eye contact#or whatever. okay okay. off to the presenation. or something#mine#vent post#prioritisation who? it was not more urgent to find train routes back from gdansk that it was to start that presenation#so i wont be dead on my feet trying to present it and also get through the 10h class before going to the library#i hate my brain does anyone wanna switch
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pluto-boy · 9 days
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life updates ??? in MY blog ????? insane behavior
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netherdevil · 4 months
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sensory shnizz is crazy cuz someone could be screenshotting something (pushing two terribly noisy buttons on their phone) and all of a sudden i want to bite their head off
#yes this is happening irl#welp. time for the uber loud music again as per usual#why are sounds So Aggravating To Experience Im Actually Going Insane I Want To Slaug#i am now using this as an excuse to ventWHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK HORROR HORRID TERRIBLE AGONIZING BRAIN EXPL#SCREAMING I Q JFJ#XC ZBZBD XBZBX C X D D D D XBXBXBX X X X Z ZZT YSTCYCY ZYCB T XBFTCY#IM GOING TO KILL X Z XC XC X X X X C C C C C Z Z Z#not reallay. i woold nevar#but sumtims iits annoiang and than i thinck abaot it#dont mischaracterize me>_<#idont want to brush my teeth or change i jdt want to sleeeeeeeeppppppppppppppppp forever but noooooo then i have to wake up and manually br#athe and blink and use my muscles to consume water and sustemance URFFHwhich is such an inconvenience like#whyyyy havent we evolved to make our own food AfuFICK THIS SHIT!!PHOTOSYNTHES#i woul be happier as an isoppd.MAKE ME ONE NEOW OR ELSE THERE EILL BE CONSEQUENCDS#good GOD if i was a metamorph life would be so much easier 🙏good golly it would solve all of my problems i would literally live longer#also ummm!!!!!!!!!!!!!i clukd look in the mirror and not be sadge#as a metamorph if you can control anytjing abt you youcoulf also rearrange shit in your brain right#somehowthat leads me to making more pleasant chemicals so in a way i guess im saying aaZHAPPY YAYYYY HAPPY HALPY HAAPYY#i will fall sleep forgetting i posted this and in the morning j am gonna be so disappointed in myself LMFO#listen😭😭
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javiscigarette · 3 months
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
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Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
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"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort. 
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea. 
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.” 
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 
“I sure do.” 
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him. 
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
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Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
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marimogf-archived · 7 months
Text
gimme some sugar, i am your neighbor!
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synopsis: asking your neighbor for a baking ingredient leads to you getting a different kind of sugar.
genre / au: smut, tiny bit of fluff, neighbor!toji inspired by this tiktok (op's story has a different storyline, this fic is inspired by part 1 only!!)
contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!toji, protected sex, slight dumbification and dacryphilia, use of petnames (doll, sweetheart, baby etc.), mentions of food; wc: ~4.2k
happy reading, i hope you enjoy! and as always, reblogs and feedback are appreciated!! <3
PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!
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everyone who knew and loved you was aware of the fact that you loved baking. every birthday, anniversary, company party would only be completed by one of your baked goods.even your neighbors could tell. at least once a week, the hallway on your floor was filled with the sweet smell of pastry and baked goods. this weekend wouldn’t be any different. 
as the clock ticked in your kitchen, you went through everything needed for the cake in your head. scanning the ingredients you got the evening before, your eyes widened when you realized that you forgot to buy sugar. 
shit.
it was sunday, everything's closed and the cake for your best friend’s birthday had to be done by today. 
thus, you had no choice but to ask your neighbors for help, hoping they had some sugar you could ‘borrow’.
you had moved here months ago, but hadn’t introduced yourself properly since you were so swamped with work. this was gonna be awkward. 
like a sad dog, you took your keys and trotted over to the neighbor’s apartments, starting at the one farthest from you in hopes of someone being home. but no one opened their door and so you were forced to walk down the hallway, ringing every bell to no avail until you reached the apartment right next to yours. you rang the doorbell with ‘fushiguro’ written in sharpie over the button, your hopes already deflated. 
“coming.”
the deep voice on the other side of the door surprised you, it sounded younger than you had thought. you lived in a somewhat quiet neighborhood, most of the neighbors looking like they either had families or were close to retirement. 
another thing you didn’t expect when the door opened was to have a fucking greek god in front of you. 
he leaned against the doorway, beefy arms shown off in a tank top that looked entirely too small to be his size, accentuating his tiny waist. his legs were exposed in tiny grey sweatshorts that left little to the imagination as you tried not to stare at the dickprint that had your mouth run dry. 
“what is it, doll?” he smirked, watching you lightly jump at getting caught ogling his physique. 
“uhm, hi, sorry to disturb your afternoon. i’m the neighbor next door and i seem to have forgotten to buy sugar for a cake that needs to be done today. i just wanted to ask if you’d have some to spare, mr. uhh…” you looked at the bell sign again, ”fushiguro?” 
you almost didn't dare to look him in the face. he had an aura about him that made you feel like a giddy teenager in the presence of your crush. 
“toji is fine, doll. but yeah, i have some,” he mumbled, a smirk ever present on his lips. as he turned in the doorway, he motioned for you to follow. “come on in.”
you hesitantly followed him through the doorway, taking off your slippers and entering his living room. looking around, his apartment seemed nice and smelled like his cologne. but it looked too clean, almost sterile, as if no one really lived here. 
‘seems like he isn't home often’, you thought to yourself. 
he rummaged in the kitchen and returned to you with a half full bag of sugar. “you can take it all, i don’t use it much and it’d be a shame to waste it.” his smirk never seemed to cease. as you took the bag, you actually faced him properly. admiring his sculpted face, the little scar adorning his lips and the green eyes staring you down. his black hair was falling into his face, making his eyes seem impossibly darker. you thanked him quietly, turning to leave when he spoke again. “don't you wanna stay a bit? i'd like to get to know you a little more, doll.” 
you faced him with heat rising to your cheeks. “maybe another time, i’m somewhat in a rush.”
“at least tell me your name, sweets,” his gruff voice sent shivers down your spine and tingles from the top of your head. 
“it’s y/n.”
“alright y/n, save me a piece, will ya? i’d like to have a taste of your cake.” he winked. you nodded nervously, thanking him. you turned to leave and hurried out of his apartment to your door. 
barely able to slide the keys into the lock with your shaky hands, you almost slammed the door behind you, heavy breaths rocking your chest. you grinned to yourself. 
you had lived in this apartment for months, barely alive between work days and using your off days to recharge even just a little bit, mainly with a vibrator between your legs and a stranger’s voice in your ears as you listened to audio porn. you'd sometimes hear tojii's deep gruff voice, along with louder giggles from a different girl each time, as they passed your door to go to his apartment. the moans that followed shortly after the door would slam shut were loud enough for you to groan and lose sleep over during work nights.  
you’d hear the girls whine and cry out for him to go harder, faster, deeper. and you'd be left wondering what the appeal about him was but now that you knew what he looked like, he might just become your new fantasy. 
enough distraction, you had a cake to bake. 
now that you had all the ingredients, you mixed together a beautifully sweet batter but in your haste, you measured a little too much for your smaller baking pan.  
‘oh well, i’ll just make some muffins out of them,’ you thought to yourself. maybe you should take some to your neighbor to thank him for his kindness later. 
buttering your pan, your batter slipped right in with enough space for it to become nice and fluffy when baking. you rummaged through your drawers, searching for your muffin pan. when you found it, you lined the pan and put the rest of your batter into the little paper frills. 
once every drop of batter was distributed evenly, you pushed everything into your oven and set the timer. you cleaned up and did the dirty dishes in the time the baked goods were filling your apartment with their sweet smell. 
the timer rang and you took out the cakes and muffins, letting them cool down while you slowly prepared the icing. after a while, your baked goods had finally cooled down enough to put the icing on without it melting.  adding a few decorations and chocolate chips on top, you put your hands on your hips triumphantly with a proud grin. your best friend would love it. you were sure of it. 
looking out the window, you saw the sun beginning to set and hurriedly put a few muffins onto a plate to bring toji. looking down at yourself, you realized that you were covered in bits of batter and icing and decided to look a bit more presentable in the face of your hot dilf neighbor. 
maybe you could get lucky? you genuinely hoped so. 
you took a very quick shower, just to get the sweat off and have your body smelling nice. you slipped on your underwear as well as some shorts and a tight shirt that accentuated your chest. you hurried to get out of the door, nearly forgetting your apartment keys in your haste. 
you rang toji’s doorbell for the second time that day and yet, you still got surprised at the sculpted man standing in front of you. 
“already back for more, sweetheart?” he grinned as his eyes traveled down your body and settled on the plate in your hand. 
“i couldn't save a slice since the cake’s for my best friend but i had some batter left over and made muffins?” you offered the plate to him, a slight tremor in your voice from being in his dominating presence again. 
he chuckled and opened the door wider. “that's nice of you, come in. i’ll make some tea and we can taste them.” 
you put the plate down on the kitchen counter and again, let your eyes drift across the apartment as toji started to prepare the kettle. 
“so what do you do?” you asked, cautious and nervous, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. you heard a deep grumble from the man as he snickered. 
“unfortunately, i can't tell you that, princess.” your cheeks heated up at the pet name. 
“is it dangerous work?” 
“mhm, wouldn't want you to get caught up in it. my friend gave me his apartment for the time until i finish my assignment and then i’m gone. but if your muffins are good, i might consider coming ‘round more often.” 
the kettle whistles and he pours the hot water over the tea to let it steep. he grabs the mugs and turns around to face you. toji set them down on the coffee table in the living room and motions for you to bring the muffins over and sit. 
his massive hands made your muffins look like legos as he took one and bit into the soft baked dough. 
“mmmh so good,” he murmured as he closed his eyes in delight. “they’re delicious, y/n. you should make it a business.” 
you smiled, thanking him. you took one as well, taking a big bite. you didn't notice the icing on your cheek nor the crumbles that accumulated on your chest. 
you sure as hell didn't notice how intently toji was watching you as you took more bites. or how he inched closer to you. 
“you got a little something there, doll,” he uttered and you gasped as his lips touched the skin right next to your mouth, sucking the sweet icing off your skin. 
“t-toji…” your voice shrank into a whisper as his lips traveled to your jaw and down your neck, delivering a gentle bite. just enough to lightly bruise the skin. 
soft whimpers left your mouth as he stopped to lick the skin on your décolletage, collecting the soft crumbs on his tongue. 
you set the unfinished muffin down and let your hand tangle in his hair, gently tugging on it. he lifted his head, creeping dangerously close to yours - that same smug grin on his lips.  
“the muffins are good, but i can think of another way you can thank me.”
your face heated up and your eyes flickered between his and his plush lips. 
“i’m gonna kiss ya now. is that okay, love?” he gently inquired, calloused thumb brushing over your cheek. 
you nodded and pulled the straps of his tank top, getting him closer to you as your lips met his in a hot kiss. you could feel his lips stretch into a sly grin as his hands found your waist, using his strength to pull you on top of him. his big hands were on your hips now, following your movements as you started grinding on him. the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip and you parted your lips willingly. toji sucked on your tongue lightly while his hands were massaging your breasts through your clothes. you moaned, your hips moving more desperately against his now apparent bulge. you could feel how big he was and you wondered how the fuck he was gonna fit. 
your worries melted away when he pulled back from the kiss, his mouth now attached to your jaw, kisses trailing down your neck. you could feel his teeth on your collarbone, threatening to leave a mark and you whined. “not there please…” 
you felt him smile against your skin and he left a soft kiss. “don't want anyone to see? in that case, i’ll mark you where only i can see, yeah?”
your hands tugged on his tank top and you leaned back a little to let toji pull it over his head, discarded somewhere out of your vision. he was an absolute delight to look at, abs chiseled, pecs round and a delicious v-line and a happy trail of small black hairs leading to the pot of gold. your hands slid over his warm skin and you lightly traced your nails over his erect nipples, eliciting a groan out of him. this time, your lips were on his neck and you sunk your teeth into his collarbone, the exact spot where he had wanted to mark you. he moaned, his deep voice sending electricity straight to your cunt and you clenched around nothing. you could feel your panties sticking to your pussy, but as much as you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted to feel him in your mouth first. so you slid down his lap as you marked him up some more. 
“yeah doll, mark me as yours. gonna show it off,” he smirked proudly as you settled on your knees between his thick thighs and looked up at him through your lashes. god, that sight was enough to almost make him cum in his pants like a teenager. you realized he wasn't wearing any underwear when you saw his wet tip through the leg of his pants. toji lifted his hips a little to let you pull down his tiny shorts and his fat cock twitched as your soft hand made contact with his skin. you let out a soft gasp at his sheer size and pressed a soft kiss to his base. his hand immediately settled into your hair, the other arm thrown over the back of the couch. 
you felt so intimidated by his size but you still took his leaking red tip into your warm mouth, tongue lapping up the salty pre-cum. his head was thrown back and the grip on your hair tightened. toji had to really control himself to not immediately cum in your mouth. 
you slowly started to take more of him, your hand stroking whatever you couldn't reach while the other caressed his thigh. the low grunts from the man above you sent shivers down your spine and you felt proud, knowing that you were the reason he was in this state. you continued your movements, looking up at toji with his eyes screwed shut, face and neck flushed. his hips moved to gently thrust into your warm, wet mouth and the sounds he made were just music to your ears. you moaned around his thick length, trailing your nails across his thighs, which made his thrusts a bit harder, leaving you to gag and slobber all over him.
after a few more thrusts, he pulled you off his dick by your hair, panting whilst sweat coated his skin. a thin trail of spit connected your lips to his cock, the tip now an even deeper red. 
“fuck doll, that mouth of yours is too good, almost made me cum too fast,” he groaned as you stood up, pulling off your shirt and unhooking your bra. his fingers pulled the waistband of your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties. he smirked at the sight of the wet spot on the fabric. toji got up and pushed you onto the couch before his lips were on your chest, fingers toying with your sensitive nipples. your back arched towards him as he gently pulled on your buds and you let out a whine. “toji please, wanna feel you inside.” 
“not yet baby, need to prep you right,” he mumbled against your skin, tongue poking out to swirl around your nipple. “wouldn’t wanna split you in half.” 
he continued licking and sucking until your hands were gripping his hair, pulling him away, before switching to the other breast. but not before marking up your pretty boobs with his lips and teeth, making you whine again. as his lips engulfed the sensitive bud, you desperately tried to grind against him, trying to get some kind of friction against your leaking pussy. he gently slapped the boob that was not in his mouth, muttering “be patient doll” and you could feel him grin against your skin. when he deemed it enough, toji let go of your chest, making his way down your tummy, leaving a trail of marks on his way.
you pushed the hair out of his face, his forehead slick with sweat as he tried his best to not cum as your pussy came into view. you were already so wet, you parted your legs so willingly and he hasn't even started. toji gripped your thighs as he kneeled between them, his lips against your hot skin making you moan wantonly. you couldn't even form words, you just wanted to feel him. 
“what is it, doll?” he teased, as a particularly hard bite into your flesh made your back arch and he swore he saw your cunt leak even more. 
sitting up on your elbows, you looked into his green eyes staring into your soul while his lips were anywhere but where you needed them. “make me feel good, please, toji, i need you,” you panted. 
he was just waiting for your command. his lips were on your pussy in an instant, tongue lapping up your sweet juices. 
my god, he could just get drunk off your smell, your sounds, your taste. you fell back and your hands were in his hair, hips moving against his mouth. as his tongue was circling your clenching hole, he moved his head from side to side, his nose rubbing against your clit just right. you could feel the orgasm coming, you could taste it. “i’m gonna- cumming, i’m cumming toji, ah- fuuuuckkk!”
you were pretty sure the other neighbors could hear you but you didn't care, his mouth just felt too good. 
“cum for me doll, make it messy.” his words pushed you over the edge, his nails leaving moon-shaped indents in your soft skin. you saw white behind your eyelids as your back arched. toji lapped up your slick as he let you ride out your high on his mouth until you pushed him away, overstimulation clouding your mind. 
“nuh-uh y/n, i’m not done with you just yet,” you heard him chuckle before you felt a finger slide into your tight cunt with ease. your hips moved on their own accord as you basically fucked yourself on his finger. “fuck, that's so good,” you huffed, still processing the previous orgasm. 
“yeah? my big fingers feel good in your slutty pussy?” he murmured, so desperate to fuck you silly but knowing that if he didn't prep you, you'd split in half on him. he slid another finger in and after a few thrusts in and out, even a third. you squirmed and gripped his hair, sweat running down your skin as you felt your second orgasm wash over you. toji could feel you clamping down on his thick fingers and he curled them to press against the spongy spot that made your back arch. a soundless gasp escaped your lips. he grinned and his other hand slid onto your lower tummy, thumb circling your clit as he watched your face contorting in pleasure. 
“come on, sweetheart. make a mess, cum on my fingers,” was all he needed to say for you to come undone. you gushed around his fingers and he watched as your cunt twitched uncontrollably around the digits. 
“fuuuck baby, you're so good for me,” he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of your hole with a lewd squelch that made your stomach twist in pleasure. he rose again, pushing his slicked up fingers between your lips and you sucked on them greedily, not breaking eye contact with him. he felt his dick twitch and he pulled his fingers out of your mouth. “you drive me crazy, doll.” 
you giggled as toji pushed his hair back with a sigh. he grumbled under his breath as he looked through the pile of clothes on the floor, searching the pockets of his pants for something. he found what he was looking for, carefully ripped the condom package open and slid the latex on his painfully hard cock with a hiss. he then sat on the soft couch, patting his thigh as he invited you to straddle him. 
“oh so you were prepared for this,” you laughed and he grinned back at you. “i was betting on it baby, could see the way you were undressing me with your eyes earlier.” you felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, feeling embarrassed at being caught. 
you, though, were a sight to behold right now. sweat made your skin glisten, your chest heaving as you were coping with having two mind blowing orgasms pulled out of you in a matter of minutes and your face was just so fucked out, he wasn't sure if you were even in the same realm as him. your thighs were on his hips and he helped you lift yours as you aligned his dick with your hole. you moved your hips against his length, lubing up the shaft with your juices before slowly and carefully sliding onto his cock. 
toji bit your shoulder gently as he tried not to bust immediately at the tightness that engulfed him. he groaned into your ear and your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails leaving marks on his skin as you felt yourself splitting in two as you slowly sunk down his length. you felt so full and you hadn't even taken him all the way yet. his grip on your waist tightened, you were sure he'd leave little bruises at how hard he was gripping you. 
“fuuuckkk baby, how are you still so tight?” he rhetorically asked while you babbled at how full you felt, how big he was and how good he was feeling inside you. he bottomed out with a small thrust and you let your head fall into the crook of his neck while he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and caressing your skin. you slowly moved your hips, grinding against him as soft sighs and wanton moans of his name left your lips.
he got drunk off the way you were wrapping around him and the way you were completely dumb off his cock. his lips found your neck again, spurring you on to move your hips a little faster, a little more. 
“come on baby, you're doing so well f’me,” he whispered right into your ear and you cried out his name, wanting to make him proud. your cunt was dragging along his cock so deliciously and soft moans left him as your velvet walls engulfed him over and over. soon enough, your muscles were growing tired, your movements getting sloppy and he adjusted his seat, with his dick still inside you and grabbed your ass to harshly thrust up. his tip was hitting your cervix in a delightfully painful way and you felt yourself getting closer to yet another orgasm.
toji felt you clamp around his length, muttering “fuck, you're trying to snap my dick off baby. you're gonna cum again? gonna make a fuckin’ mess on my cock, hm?” he teased you, one hand sliding down for his thumb to sloppily rub against your swollen clit. your whole body shook, mindless moans and babbles leaving your lips.
“fuckfuckfuck, m’cumming,” you almost screamed at this point, his proud smile only egging you on as white ecstasy washed over you and he slowed his thrusts down to ride out your high. tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, some even escaping and he caressed your cheek with his thumb. 
“oh baby, you cryin’ because i’m fucking you so good? your pussy is made for me, doll. you're doing so well f’me,” he cooed, sounding almost condescending. you nodded, completely fucked out and pretty much unable to speak. you cried out when he started thrusting faster, lewd slaps of his balls against your ass - pap pap pap - with every move. he was so close too, his hands gripping your shoulders as he used you like a fleshlight, listening to your raspy whines, your nails clawing at his shoulders.
you were gonna cum again, whether you wanted or not, he would make sure of that. and soon enough, as you felt his thrusts getting sloppier, your pussy clenched around him again, cumming harder than before as he fucked up into you just a few more times before burying himself to the hilt and cumming into the rubber.
he lazily thrust a few more times to ride out his orgasm and he slowly lifted your hips to slide out of you with a lewd squelch and you whined at the empty feeling. he traced little figure eights on your back as you came back to earth after being fucked into oblivion. you slumped against him and he stroked your back, chuckling when you started giggling, euphoria taking over. 
“thanks for the sugar,” you laughed tiredly, tracing your fingers over his pecs. 
“anytime, sweetheart. i’ll always have some on standby for ya, just say the word.”
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a/n: FIRST FIC IN ALMOST 3 YEARS LET'S GO!! this is quite self indulgent because i love to bake LMAO. big big BIGGEST thank you to @jabamin for proofreading and helping me with this <3. gonna tag @kazushawty as well since i feel like she might enjoy this and also because i used her tutorial for headers and it worked perfectly!! i'm so happy with how it looks! :3 tagging @etherealxmaya as well 🫶🏼💗THANK YOU FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! <3
© marimogf 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate or steal any of my works.
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evilminji · 29 days
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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swiftispunk · 4 months
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another time, baby | joel miller x f!reader
a your summer dream bonus chapter
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your summer dream masterlist | main masterlist | kofi | follow @swiftispunkupdates and turn on notifications for updates
pairing: dad's buddy!joel miller x f!reader rating: 18+ word count: 3.4k summary: joel makes good on a promise. warnings etc: [NO OUTBREAK] established relationship, porn no plot, smut, age gap (28/50), unprotected anal sex, vaginal fingering, use of a butt plug, joel miller eats ass and pussy and also has a big dick, some affectionate spanking, creampie, cum play (eating and sharing), a little bit of spit, just a lot of bodily fluids all around, one (1) poetic description of a queef, joel miller's filthy mouth, pet names, ysd!joel at his most soft dom, joel's also kind of feral in this, multiple orgasms, sweet sweet aftercare, pov swap. no use of y/n.
a/n: you can all thank @gasolinerainbowpuddles for this one ya'll. but in all seriousness, your summer dream was my favourite part of this year. so what better way to send it off than with a horny little one shot for my favourite little freaks? and for anyone who hasn't read the series, i am stoked to tell you that you can absolutely enjoy this fic as a standalone. for those of you who have the read series, this takes place between the fall and winter seasons and you may find one teeny tiny little plot nugget in here which i hope you will appreciate. happy new year everyone!
"Oh, fuck, that's pretty."
His voice a low rasp, all hushed and adoring, he may as well be talking to himself at this point. You are somewhere far away. A pliant, whining, perfect thing slung over his lap, your soft skin glistens with lube around the transparent plug in your ass. Seeing you like this, Joel allows himself to think the worst–that you're his and no one else's, that only he can make you like this, only he gets to know this part of you. 
"Please, Joel, please," you'd cried when his tongue had dipped from your pussy to your other hole earlier this week. Your fingers clawing at fistfuls of his hair, he'd known by the desperate edge in your voice, the patience there waning, you were finally going to ask.
"What, baby? What do you want?"
You'd seized and moaned and shaken your head, afraid to say it, confess it.
Till he'd slipped one thick finger into your asshole, taunting you with a plea of his own as he'd slowly fucked you with it: "Tell me. Tell me, baby. Say it. Tell me what you want."
"Please fuck my ass, Joel! Please–"
And as his lips had closed around your clit with his finger still buried in your ass, you'd come apart for him with blinding force. Joel, for his part, had spilled onto the sheets beneath him and in the haze of the afterglow, he'd kissed your inner thighs and made a solemn vow. 
That he'll give you what you need–but he's gonna do it right.
Now you've stopped begging, reduced to little more than breathless whimpers under his touch while you let him ready you.
He cages your naked body under his, fingers spread wide over the globe of your ass, pinching and grabbing and slapping at the plush flesh there. Your poor, dripping cunt flutters around nothing and Joel can't help himself–he's a weak man; he takes pity on you.
"Feelin' empty, baby?" he muses, slipping a hand between your thighs to caress your folds, soaking with lube and your last release. He gazes down at you in wonder when you twitch violently at the contact, your ass jiggling around the end of the plug.
He's so goddamn lucky.
You make some muffled sound against the mattress and Joel's other hand comes down on your ass cheek in response. His lips twitch, chest and cock swelling with something like pride when you recognize it for the reminder it is, immediately pulling your face up off the sheets to answer him properly.
"Mm-mm," you croak and Joel can tell you're struggling to get the words out, your loose form spasming across his thighs whenever his fingers brush over your sensitive clit. "Feel so–full, Joel."
"Yeah?" he murmurs gruffly, still lazily petting your sex. "You like havin' your ass all stuffed, sweetheart? This what you wanted?"
"Want–more, Joel. Please fuck me."
But there's no strength behind the words, no genuine intention behind the plea because you know; this had been the deal. He'll give you this–and god, does he want to give you this–but he's not going to rush it and he's not going to hurt you. He's well aware of his size and he's well aware of your less-than-savoury experiences with men before him and he will not subject you to that. He'll spend all night prepping you if that's what it takes. 
Plus, he's having fun.
"Gonna feel a lot more full with my cock inside ya, baby," he hums, sinking his thumb into your wet heat, reveling in the way you push back into him with a breathy little moan. "You think you can take it?"
Your answer gets caught in your throat as he begins to fuck his thumb in and out of your weeping pussy, his fingers circling over your clit, buried between the soft meat of your thighs.
His lip curls in concentration, ravenous at the soft squelching sounds of your cunt and the choked, little whimpers spilling from your open mouth. Just one more time, he thinks–he just wants to watch you come one more time.
"Look at you, huh?" he marvels as he switches gears, using one large palm to spread you open and push his middle and ring fingers into your cunt instead, curling and scissoring them inside you till he swears he can feel the plug taking up your ass. "Look at you with both your little holes all full for me. Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted. Ain't that right, babygirl?"
Something about that thought makes you gasp, the tips of his fingers just barely grazing your g-spot before you're coming again, a small gush of liquid pouring down his knuckles as you pulse around him with a broken cry. 
"Oh, fuck, yeah," Joel hisses through his teeth as the waves of wash over you, awestruck and mesmerized at the way you shudder and squirm in his lap. You're all his. It's all for him. You fall apart like this for him. "There's my good girl."
You go limp when it ends, a delicious noise of gaping emptiness escaping your pussy when he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them clean, sighing at the taste of you, and decides he's done enough.
"C'mere," he growls softly, manhandling you carefully off his lap and collecting your knees beneath you. You go like a ragdoll, folding in on yourself with your ass in the air for him, chest pressed into your thighs. He crouches beside you, trailing a hand up your spine to rest it at the nape of your neck, massaging the other over the rounded peaks of your ass.
"You ready, sweetheart?" he whispers, tracing his fingers around the edges of the plug. "Gonna take this out now."
"Oh, fuck," you whimper into the sheets, your voice all cracked and oozing anticipation. Your ribs expand and contract with each ragged breath you take and even Joel isn't sure he can wait much longer. 
He leans over your body, sinks his teeth into the meat of your ass, buries his nose into your skin and makes himself at home there. He stakes his claim with little indents into your flesh and yearns to mark you elsewhere–everywhere.
"Let me hear you say it," he insists. 
"I'm ready, Joel. Please."
He shifts to hover over you, cradling your body under one arm while he curls his fingers around the end of the plug.
"Relax for me now," he murmurs and even though you're already gooey and gone, you find a way to obey him. Your muscles slacken and you melt impossibly deeper into the mattress, waiting. 
"Good girl," he tells you and he's never meant it more than he does right now.
With patient care, he slips the plug past that tight ring of muscle, watching you stretch around the thickest part of the toy, groaning with you when he pushes it back inside. He repeats that motion, mesmerized at the slide of the plug moving in and out of the constricting fist of your asshole. You take it so fucking well. You're gonna take his cock so fucking well. 
It's all he can think about as he finally pulls the plug out of you entirely, cursing under his breath when your hole stays open for him, stretched out and lax, still so enticingly tight. He tosses it aside, hungry eyes fixed on your opening, locked in on it like a missile acquiring its target.
"Jesus Christ," he groans, feeling slightly crazed as he crowds the space behind you, hastily searching for the bottle of lube, abandoned somewhere on the mattress. He coats his length in it, stroking himself with one hand while the other spreads you open, one thick finger dipping into the inviting warmth of your asshole. "You gonna let me fuck you here, baby? This where you want me?"
"Yes," you whine and Joel's cock twitches in his grasp as you start to fuck yourself on his finger in shallow little thrusts, as if to prove your point. Fucking hell. He's never seen you so needy as long as he's known you and it stirs something carnal in him. 
"Alright, baby, okay," he hums, sliding his finger free from your hole to grip your side and still your movements. His cock is slippery and your skin is shiny with excess lube but he wants to be sure, overly thorough. He rakes his fingers through the seam of your cunt, collecting come and lube and slick, and coats your other hole in it. And just because he wants to see it, he lets a string of his of spit fall there too, rubbing his own fluids in with yours, over the sacred place he's about to fuck you. 
He thinks you look fucking perfect together. He thinks he might be in love with you.
He presses closer, notching the tip of his cock at your entrance. You reach back to grip the wrist of the hand he's got glued to your side and Joel's heart pangs. He can't tell if the way you squeeze his arm is a sign of nerves or eagerness or the same painful desperation he feels to be as attached to you as possible in every conceivable way. Frankly, he's too delirious with desire to even ask, just gives you what he thinks you always need, what he thinks he's best at giving you–
"You're okay, baby," he assures you. "Just relax, I got you. M'gonna make it feel good, okay? Gonna make it feel so fuckin' good for you."
-
Your fingers tighten around his wrist, a high-pitched moan pouring from your lips as you nod against the sheets.
You trust him–of course you do. 
And you want this, want him to fill the deepest corners of your body, to take up every vacant space inside you and make you his, over and over in every which way. Joel's unwavering control seems to fade as he lines himself up with your hole, his breaths coming shorter and less even, sucked through his teeth like some voracious animal. Your pussy clenches in an unconscious way, like your body still hasn't realized that's not where he's going.
It quickly becomes clear. 
Because then he's pushing forward, the head of his cock slipping past your puckered rim and it's like he stops breathing altogether, the flow of air from his lungs choking off into a strangled moan. You echo that sound, twist your free hand into the sheets and whine at the intrusion, the stretch and strain almost dizzying. 
"Oh–fuck–shit," he's rambling, stilling where he is to let you adjust–though you're wondering now if such a thing is even possible. "Fuck me, that's so fuckin' tight."
You can feel your breathing shallow, hear the distant sound of your own voice leaving you in the form of weak and whimpered nothings. 
Joel takes a deep breath. 
"Talk to me," he grits out. "Tell me how it feels."
You rack your brain but you can't find the words. 
"You're so-you're so fucking big, Joel."
He growls, a sound buried low in his chest, deep and guttural. "Tell me how it feels," he repeats. 
"Fuck–good," you cry, and you think it's true. The stretch, the ache, the fullness, the elation that it's him finally giving you what he'd promised you so many months ago; yes, it feels good. It feels perfect. "More. Please. I can take more."
"Fuck, yeah, you can," Joel groans, sinking deeper, still at a sedulous pace, till you feel his hips meet your ass and he bottoms out completely.
"Shit," Joel marvels, pausing once again with his length buried to the hilt in your ass, voice thick with adoration. "Feel fuckin'–so perfect, baby. Fuck, you look so good like this. Takin' it so well."
He experimentally rocks his hips and you feel yourself stretch open for him, the way your body accepts his girth and makes such willing space for him. It's fucking…otherworldly how big he feels inside you, the pleasant aching sensation of fullness unlike anything you've ever felt before. Your uneven breaths harmonize with his, breaking off into a groan of appreciation when he finally pulls out halfway just to push back in.
He fucks you like that for what feels like hours; slow, patient drags of his cock in and out of your hole while his hands rake over your skin in appreciative sweeping patterns. His words from before echo in your pleasure-drunk mind–"Bet you could take two cocks f'you wanted"–and while you can't say you've ever thought about that, the suggestion festers and consumes, so much so that you reach a hand between your legs to slip three fingers into your pussy and imagine how it would feel if they were something else.
"Oh, yeah, honey?" Joel croons when he notices, the pace of his thrusts picking up. "That feel good? You wanna be all filled up, don't you?"
You whine in response, burying your fingers deeper, meeting his thrusts with a steady rock of your hips back into him.
"C'mere," he's suddenly saying again, carefully pulling his cock free from the tight clench of your ass. Then he's maneuvering you onto your back and placing your arms by the side of your head. He hooks his hands beneath your knees and hoists them up to your chest before settling back between your legs. He takes a moment there, gawking at your naked front and your gaping hole, watching your face as he presses his palm over your mound and strums his thumb over your clit. 
And, god, he looks wrecked–wild. You can't imagine what he's seeing reflected back at him in your eyes. 
Fuck, you already miss him inside you. 
"Joel," you press him, tilting your hips upwards a little higher in a silent plea. 
He grants it without question, maintaining the steady ministrations of his thumb on your clit as he once again lines himself up with your asshole.
"You perfect fuckin' thing," he murmurs, his mouth falling open as he pushes back inside, his eyes never leaving your face. "You love it, huh? Love this big cock in this tight little ass. Yeah?"
His voice strains around the words as he begins to move again, faster and harder than before. You nod at him frantically–tell him yesyesyes–then you forget how to speak altogether as he eases his thumb into your cunt and fucks you with it in tandem with the drag of his cock in your ass. 
"There you go," Joel hums. "My girl's all full of me now."
It's overwhelming, a mind-numbing sort of satiation that has your eyes rolling back into your skull as you dissolve into a mess of wanton moans and broken sobs. You're too far gone to even feel surprised when another climax crashes into you, wetness pooling around Joel's thumb and trickling down to the place your bodies are connected.
"Fuck, Joel, oh my god–"
Your voice shakes as you quiver under him, sparks of heat cascading down your spine. Joel's heady grunting is buried under your own cries of ecstasy and then you're conscious of his hands are on the backs of your thighs, holding you open as he begins to fuck you with abandon, chasing chasing chasing. 
"Eyes," you hear him growl urgently. "You look at me when I come in your ass, baby."
Your eyelids snap open at once–and the sight of him takes your breath away.
His brows are furrowed in concentration, hot breaths coming in heavy pants through his bared teeth. Sweat dampens his forehead and shines on his chest and shoulders, the expanse of skin there dotted with splotches of pink. His soft belly flexes and falls as he pounds into you and you don't think you've ever seen his brown eyes look so black. 
He's so fucking beautiful. He's all yours. 
"Come for me, Joel," you beseech him, reaching out to touch your hands to his chest. "Please. Please come in my ass."
It doesn't take much more than that, Joel's hips stuttering as he groans out a chorus of expletives and paints your insides with his release. He comes hard, his final thrusts almost bruising against your ass as he fucks his spend deeper, filling you to the brim. You can feel everything–the way his cock spasms inside you, the soft press of his balls against your sticky skin, the wet drag of his length slowly slipping out of you the minute you've both caught your breath.
You reach out to touch his face, but Joel is not looking at you. Joel is transfixed on your leaking asshole, crouching back to watch his come drip from you, his big hands on your thighs still spreading you wide for him. 
He looks…overcome–trancelike as he dives forward without a word to bury his face between your cheeks. You gasp as his tongue laps at your pulsing hole, collecting fat drops of escaping come and it occurs to you then what he's doing. Your hands fist into his curls and you yank him up to kiss you, his lips crashing into yours as hot, salty release pours from his open mouth into yours. 
You swallow it eagerly, moaning against his lips as his body weight comes down on top of you. You wrap your legs around his middle and for a good long while, you stay like that, letting your tongue lazily dance with his in a kiss that's all gratitude and quiet devotion. 
As the fog of orgasm fades, your lips come apart. Joel rolls onto his side and pulls you into his chest, pets your hair and presses soft kisses across your shoulders. 
"You alright, baby?" he asks, clutching the sides of your face in his gentle hands and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. The blackness there is gone, replaced by tender warmth. 
You think about it. You are alright. You're sleepy, though. Sleepy and sore. And fucking…messy. 
"I'm okay," you tell him, feeling the corners of your mouth turn up in a smile. Joel mirrors it, his thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones.
"Did so fuckin' good for me," he breathes. His forehead collides with yours as he exhales something that sounds like a laugh. "I mean, that–that was so goddamn hot."
"It was," you agree. "Thank you, Joel."
"Thank you, sweetheart," he amends, ducking forward to plant another fleeting kiss against your lips. "M'gonna get a shower goin', alright? Get you all cleaned up? How's'at sound?"
"Sounds good," you smile dreamily.
He looks like he wants to say something else, lingering there with his face just inches from yours, soft eyes scanning your features like he's searching for something. You think you know the words he's holding back–think you could say them too right now–but you don't, and neither does he. Instead, he sighs and kisses your forehead, finally rising up out of bed to stride towards the ensuite. You let your eyes slip shut at the sound of running water, imagining it's a falling stream in a lush, tropical forest. You sigh.
It strikes you, in moments like these, how in the hell you ended up here. In Joel Miller's bed with his come leaking out of your ass, your heart so full it feels like it could burst right out of your chest without warning. 
You think maybe it should scare you, but it doesn't anymore. Because then Joel is sauntering back into the room and extending a solid arm out to you, hoisting you upright with all the care and attention you've come to expect from him. His embrace is so familiar it may as well be your second home at this point. And it kind of is. And it's kind of perfect. 
And you're kind of in love with him–but you don't tell him that yet.
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cherubfae · 2 months
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holding hands || hazbin/helluva boss x reader
With Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Angel Dust, Vox, Blitz, Loona, and Striker
tags: fluff, shy!gn!reader and implied masc for Angel 💕 crushing/mutual pining, pre-established relationships, blitz's relationship/intimacy issues (but we gonna get that healthy growth we need), striker's is a bit suggestive!
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Alastor
You weren't sure the barrier of touching Alastor would ever be something that would be crossed and you told yourself that you didn't mind. You chose to revel in the moments of when he sought out affections and physical closeness be it dancing or if he suddenly tugs you in to tell you something. Alastor is not very privy to other people's space and Heaven forbid someone enter his without permission. Quite the contradiction.
Now, if he notices you're purposely not trying to give him any sort of touch or affection, he will get rather annoyed. You, darling, are the only one who he doesn't mind touching him. Has he expressed this? No. Will he? Maybe. Did he expect you to be able to read his mind? Quite possibly.
Alastor hoped to have made a smoother transition rather than just outright grasping your hand. Even he seemed surprised by his own action, static feedback chirping from him. His ears flick and the slightest sliver of a blush creeps from beneath his suit collar.
"I don't mind if it's you, dearest. I... I don't detest your touch as much as the others." Alastor clears his throat, his large hand briefly covers your smaller one. Giving your hand a little squeeze, he stands abruptly and disappears into shadow and darkness.
You'd never seen Alastor embarrassed before. How cute.
Lucifer
He's a pretty affectionate guy, especially once he's comfortable around you! His heart warms as you mindlessly play with your fingers, eyes looking everywhere but at him. The more you feel his stare, the more the blush darkens on your face.
"Take it easy there, sweetling," Lucifer's soft tone eases your senses. Pressing a light kiss to your forehead, he pulls back. He offers his hand, palm upwards, giving you time to back away. His gentle smile deepens when you slip your hand in his, his thumb brushing along your knuckles. Tugging you to his side gently, your shoulders brushing, you continue on the sidewalk towards Hell's finest local café.
Husk
While not one for PDA, Husk doesn't mind affection behind closed doors. Preferably out of sight of anyone who may mock and tease him for it.
He didn't however expect you to be sitting on his bed, thumbs lightly pressing into the center of his paw watching his claws go from being exposed and then retracting thanks to your gentle manipulations. He snorts lightly, as silly as you were, he couldn't be mad at your fascination.
"You're lucky you're cute, hun. If you were anyone else I may not be as nice as I am with ya." Husk smirks. Maintaining complete eye contact, you raise his paw to your lips and give it a soft kiss, grinning as Husk jolts with a huffy mrow. "Sneaky brat," he sighs, falling back on his bed with an arm over his eyes.
Angel Dust
You want to hold his hand? Which one, babe? He's got six! :) Angel is understanding of your shy nature, though he hopes you'll be able to be more bold with him in the future. He won't pressure you, of course, but he wants you to know that you can trust him. That he is capable of taking things slow.
"Is this okay?" Angel asks, softly grasping your hand in his gloved one. When you make no move to pull from his touch, a happy wobbly smile wiggles onto his face. He lightly leans his cheek against the top of your head, a brief sign of his affection. He can snuggle you more later, but for now, he wants to enjoy the day with his favorite person.♡
Vox
Intimacy of all sorts isn't foreign to him, but he's not used to someone so good, so pure. And he's certainly not used to that attention being directed at him. Any time you touch him, even if you only accidentally brushed past him, it leaves him buzzing. Craving for something more. He wants your sweet smile to be directed at him and him alone. It takes everything in Vox not to scream when you give his hand a small squeeze only to pull back, muttering apologies. Soon, he's reaching for you again, taking your hand in his.
"I didn't say that I hated it." Vox whispered in an uncharacteristically soft way. His eyes flicker up to your face, then back to see where his hand has dwarfed yours. With his free hand falling to your hip, lightly stroking circles there, he pulls you to stand between his legs. Your other arm slides to rest on his shoulder as his clawed hand curls around the back of your knee. Intimate but not forceful. There's no aggression in his movements. Including your head towards him, even sitting down he's much taller than you. Vox's eyes hold a silent question, one that you answer with that smile he loves so much and a nod, and his lips press to yours with your hands still joined.
Blitzø
Romantic gestures are a big deal for him. Big in the way that he struggles with them, but that he doesn't want it to be something that holds him back. Familial and platonic he understands, but Blitz is pretty damned confused with the fact that you want to even be near someone like him. He doesn't want to inadvertently hurt you by acting how he does. He doesn't wanna fuck up, but goddammit, he really does want to be near you. He wants to be able to give you everything you could need and more, he just doesn't know how. How to unfuck himself.
"Sl-slow," Blitz's voice betrays him with a crack and he swallows thickly, taking your hand in his. Ever grateful that you're the ones in I.M.P right now. This is different. Intimate. He's shaky, palms sweaty. His brain feels foggy and it's suddenly hotter than normal. He feels dizzy and like the floor may break beneath his feet and swallow him whole. The second you start to withdraw, he's tugging you back to him with a soft, raspy, "No."
Facing him now, your other hand slides up to his. Both your palms are pressed together. Blitz keeps his gaze on the floor, unable to help how fidgety he feels, even as he laces your fingers together, and leans his head onto your shoulder. He's not gonna let you pull away. Not yet. Please...
Loona
Lighting up a cigarette, Loona leans her back against a wall of some dingy alleyway in the human world. You had chosen to wait with her, both dressed in your human disguises, hoping that any second Blitz and M&M would return with the mission completed. Your sole purpose tonight had been to guard Stolas's grimoire and open the portal when everyone was ready to return home.
Blowing her smoke towards the sky, Loona hummed softly. "At least it's a nice night, huh?" She smiles lightly, grateful her tail was hidden in this form when you leaned against the wall beside her. You looked great; you always did.
A vast blue sky with billions of twinkling stars smiled down on you two. It was a nice change of pace from the hellish red glow of your home. This particular area of Earth was quiet. Peaceful, even. Nodding your head you smile at her, Loona swallows.
Her pinky finger lightly brushed your own, a gentle startled gasp leaving you. But you smile, albeit shyly, your hand taking hers. Not many words were exchanged, none needed to be. Just Loona smoking her cigarette and looking up at the stars.
Striker
Ain't you just the cutest little thing? You think he doesn't notice how worked up and shy you get when he's just finished wrangling in some dinner, with his bare, sweaty muscles on display. It's a direct, unvoiced invite for only you and yet you haven't taken him up on anything yet. Why?
"You scared of me, sugar?" Striker drawls, flicking his cigar butt into the dirt and crushing it with the heel of his boot. You look up at him with those big, beautiful doe eyes and adamantly shake your head that you weren't. "Then what is it, darlin'? Spit it out." He smirks, gold tooth glinting.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
Cheeks heating, you gnaw on your lower lip. "I'd like to hold your hand." Striker blinks, clearly taken aback. That's it? You're getting so worked up like a nervous virgin begging for a thick cock because you want to... Hold his hand? He stops himself from laughing, he can tell that it's really bothering you. Heaving a sigh, Striker plops down beside you. Pulling you into his lap, his arms slide around your waist and he offers both his hands to you. He hides his reddening face at your back, the sound of his blood rushes in his ears, unable to focus on anything but how soft your hands are. And how well they fit into his. "Jus' do it then, they're yours to touch, ain't they?"
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scealaiscoite · 3 months
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coworkers to lovers prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱
¹⁾ “hey - in case no-one else’s said it, you’ve been doing some really great work lately. i really apprec- i mean, all of us really appreciate it.”
²⁾ “if you keep putting in nights this late, i think [boss] is gonna start charging you rent.”
³⁾ “stop jumping in whenever you think i need saving! i don’t need defending, and i don’t need you!”
⁴⁾ “you remember how i take my coffee?”
⁵⁾  “you don’t need to keep pushing yourself so hard, you know. we all know how hard you worked to get here - it’s okay to let yourself breathe now.”
⁶⁾ “if you don’t wanna spend the night in a empty house, you could always come over to mine.”
⁷⁾ “normally when you invite me to lunch, it’s with everyone else too. what’s so different about this time that you needed me alone?”
⁸⁾ “don’t tell anyone else, but i like working with you the best.”
⁹⁾ “hey, why are me and [name] being split up? you know we do our best work when we’re together.”
¹⁰⁾ “i figured you wouldn’t have the time, so i went and picked up lunch for you.”
¹¹⁾ “wow, someone’s looking good. who’re you trying to impress?”
¹²⁾ “[other coworker] told me you nearly lost it when they all tried blaming me for what happened. why did you care so much?”
¹³⁾ “do you make house calls to all of your coworkers when they call in sick, or am i just that special?”
¹⁴⁾ “why are you freezing me out all of a sudden? I thought you were happy I was dating again, and now you act like it pains you to hear about it.”
¹⁵⁾ “until such a time as the two of you can prove that you can work as well on your own as you do together, you’re going to be put on different schedules.”
¹⁶⁾ “why didn’t you tell me you were up for the promotion? did you seriously think i wouldn’t be happy for you?”
¹⁷⁾ “you do know you’ll be seeing me first thing in the morning, right? what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until then?”
¹⁸⁾ “one date, that’s all i’m asking for. one night to let me show you how good we could be together.”
¹⁹⁾ “i think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at your own.”
²⁰⁾ “no, you don’t get to do this. you don’t get to make me fall in love with you, and then tell me there’s no way for this to work because of the job!”
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leclerc-hs · 6 months
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marked - cl16
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Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: a request from anon ‘Charles marking you as his’ Warnings: smut, choking, language, 18+ Word Count: 546 Author’s Note: I apologize for it being short!!!! I think I want to attempt to write a short series maybe. Any ideas on what it should be about? ALSO HAPPY FERRARI LOCKOUT DAY. I am praying we can stay on podium today lmaooo French edits made by @shewantsvengeance!!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
IF YOU HAD to ask anybody, they would tell you that Charles was a rather generous being. He was always willing to provide help to someone in need. When your friend’s house had a gas leak, he provided her a space to crash for the time being. Whenever somebody needed a ride, he was the person to call. If you forgot your wallet, don’t worry he already covered it anyways.
So, when your apartment was deemed unlivable due to remodeling, he promptly extended a warm welcoming haven for you to find solace in.
The dynamic between you and Charles was a peculiar one, not yet falling into the category of an official couple yet possessing an unmistakable intensity. It was as if a protective aura enveloped the two of you; anyone daring to cast even a fleeting thought in your direction was met with a foreboding presence. Regardless of the official label, you were his. He was yours.
Which is how you found yourself here. In this present moment. With Charles hand gripped around your neck as you straddled him on the couch.
“Fuck,” he grunted as you hastily worked yourself over his cock. The deep groan he elicited had your lip quivering. His hands grasped onto your hips tightly, guiding you. “Gonna take it all, huh?”
“Gonna be a good cumslut for me, princesse?” He wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
“Shut up and make me cum already,” you couldn’t help but bite back. He possessed a remarkable talent for teasing, edging you for what has felt like hours. It was torment, pushing you to the threshold of your orgasm but then denying it before you could jump over the edge.
“Feisty, hm?” his hands slipped back up to your neck, squeezing hard. “Don’t be a brat.”
Tiny beads of sweat started to form on the edge of his eyebrow, the veins of his neck visible. You wished you could take a picture.
You felt your hips start to lose rhythm as your legs grew weaker. You are a whimpering wet mess. “Can’t even ride me properly,” a smirk formed on his lips.
“Please, Cha,” you begged, currently on the verge of having a break down from the frustration. “I need-“
“Need me to fuck you? Can’t get yourself off alone baby? So useless.” He was laughing. It made your pussy clench harder. You didn’t even have to respond before Charles was flipping you under him on the couch. Your hands immediately grasping onto the back of the couch for support as he fucked you from behind.
He leaned forward, his body arched over yours, his lips found a place on your neck. With a deliberate intention, he sucked hard. No doubt leaving a dark purple like bruise on the cusp of your neck and jaw. Claiming you.
The mixture of his fervent sucking with the drilling of his hips was more than enough to send you teetering over the edge this time. His, right behind you. You were screaming, tears escaping your eyes as you felt yourself squeezing all around his cock.
You were both out of breath. Collapsed on one another on the couch. Completely ruined, that’s how you felt. The giant reddish purple on your neck was sore, Charles finger tracing it with a smile.
“Everyone will know you’re mine now.”
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