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wheresarizona · 10 months

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Float Like a Feather

pairing: Joel Miller/inexperienced f!reader

summary: You like to go to the bar at night, have a shot, and dance to the jukebox until it tires you out. Joel likes to go to the bar, have a couple of drinks, and watch you dance, entranced by how carefree and happy you look. Ellie thinks it's disgusting how you stare at each other with moon eyes and decides it’s time Joel finally talks to you.

rating: E (18+!! This is basically smut with some plot. No y/n, age gap (20-25 years), Soft Joel Miller, reader isn’t a virgin but is very inexperienced, Joel is extremely sweet in showing how good sex can be, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f receiving/first time), vaginal fingering, (1) pussy slap, spit mention, dirty talk, praise kink, a hint of Protective Joel, a couple of ma’am’s, Good Parent Joel, Ellie giving Joel so much shit, Ellie being the best wingman, Joel supporting his lesbian daughter, a touch of pregnancy, Joel holding a baby, TLOU AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and they’re good when they get back to Jackson)

word count: 7.1k+

a/n: My dearest friend @dresupi sent me the song Stella by Cereus Bright as a prompt for Joel Miller, and this is what happened. I’m going to be honest and tell you this is completely self-indulgent. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul for betaing!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Jackson is just so… normal.

Or at least as normal as a town can be in an apocalypse.

Returning with Ellie, they were given duties like every other person who lived there to keep the place continuing to be normal.

They’ve been there a little over a month, and Joel already has a routine: up at seven am, making sure Ellie gets up, too (ignores her grumbling), goes with her to the canteen to have breakfast (ignores her glares). They split up to go do their jobs for the day, him returning to the house around five, showering the day away, then goes to have dinner with Ellie at six (happily listens about her day and the girl she’s taken a liking to named Cat). She goes to hang out with her new friends, and he likes to go sit in the bar to have a couple of drinks over a few hours and people-watch.

It’s more person-watch, or at least each time he’s gone, there’s only one person who catches his eye.

Every night at around eight, you make your way into the bar, taking a shot of something clear at the bartop, then going to the jukebox, putting on a song, and dancing.

It’s not one song, or two, you keep them going and dancing until there’s a sheen of sweat on your skin, and you finally have to get some water.

It entrances him with how carefree you are, how happy you are, your eyes closed, smiling as you just lose yourself to the music, moving to the beat.

Sometimes people join you, sometimes men try to convince you to get a drink with them that you always politely decline, and Joel would feel like a creep, but sometimes your eyes open and lock with his, and you wink at him, which always makes him so damn flustered. He knows you’re aware of him because when you enter the bar, your attention goes to his corner table, smiling at him before you go take your shot.

There’s no way in hell you’re interested in him, though—he’s way too old for someone so young and lively. You probably just enjoy having an audience watching as you float across the dance floor, having the time of your life.

It doesn’t matter anyway because he’s convinced himself he’s fine on his own and doesn’t need anyone. He isn’t even sure if he can allow himself to care for another person, not after all the ones he’s lost—so all of his focus has been on his kid and keeping her safe.

He’s sitting at his usual table with his whiskey in front of him, watching as you dance to an upbeat 80s song in your black leggings and purple tank top, when suddenly someone is plopping down in the seat next to him, taking him from his reverie, quickly turning his head to realize it’s just Ellie.

“Is that her?” she asks, pointing at you moving in the empty space in front of the jukebox used as a makeshift dance floor.

He feels a flush creeping up his neck, “Don’t point,” he says, lowering her hand. “It’s rude.”

“Fine, Joel, I won’t point.” She rolls her eyes. “But is that her?” she nods her head toward you.

“Is that who?”

“The woman Tommy says you stare at with moon eyes but are too chicken shit to ask out.”

His face pinches in anger, turning his attention to the teen. “I do not stare at her with fuckin’ moon eyes,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, you do. It’s disgusting—just ask her out already.”

“I’m too old for her,” he replies, taking a drink.

“You are fucking old, but with how she looks at you, I don’t think she gives a fuck.”

He lowers his glass. “How does she look at me?” he asks quietly, and Ellie grins.

“Your sight must be going, old man,” she ribs. “She looks at you with the same goddamn moon eyes, and it’s obvious she likes you, too.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie—ain’t nothin’ obvious.”

“Well, you’re the only person she looks at, so…”

He perks up.

“Am I?”

That can’t be…

“Yep, and you should just finally make a fucking move.”

He crosses his arms over his chest.

“Why are you givin’ me shit when you’re too chicken shit yourself?”

Her eyes round.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He lowers his voice to make sure nobody else would hear.

“You like Cat, and from the times you’ve brought her around, she likes you, too.” He shrugs. “I’m not the only one with fuckin’ moon eyes.”

“Ah ha!” She points at him. “You do have a crush!”

“Keep it down,” he hisses, frantically looking your way and seeing you’re still dancing without a care.

“Jesus, Joel—chill out. I wanna make you a deal.”

“What’s that?” he asks, meeting her eyes with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll ask out Cat if you ask out Dancing Queen over there.” She juts her thumb toward the dance floor.

He lets out a long low sigh scrubbing his hand over his face because Ellie was his kid, and he wants her to be happy, and she’s happy with Cat. If this will get her to do something about her own crush, he obviously has to do it, but it will be so fucking embarrassing when he gets shot down.

“Fine.”

“Fuck yeah! She’s heading to the bar. Now’s your chance.”

His eyes go wide. “Now? You want me to do it now?” He figured he’d have time to work up the courage—he’s rusty.

“Yeah. Go.” She pushes on his shoulder, and Joel reluctantly gets up with a groan, scratching at the back of his neck as he walks toward you. Looking back at Ellie, she’s grinning and giving him two thumbs up, which spurs him on to do what she asked.

You’re chugging a glass of water, your skin glistening in the lights of the bar from sweat, and Joel thinks you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He approaches, taking a deep breath. He finally clears his throat. “Um, excuse me, ma’am?”

Setting the cup down, you turn to face him with the most beautiful smile curling up on your lips.

“Cute corner guy!” you say, and his cheeks heat.

“The name’s Joel,” he replies, sticking out his hand.

“Hi, Joel—” You introduce yourself, shaking his offered palm, and he notices how much smaller yours is. “—I’ve been waiting for you to come talk to me.”

His eyebrows are in his hairline. “You… have?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re very handsome, and don’t stare at me like you’re picturing me naked. It’s honestly refreshing. Wanna have a drink with me?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much.”

Ellie has disappeared, and the two of you take up residence at his usual table. He finds you’re lovely to talk to—learning you’d been in Jackson almost six months, you lived in the Denver QZ before that, your age which had him wondering why in the hell you were even giving him the time of day, and you hadn’t crossed paths outside the bar in the rotation of jobs because you were a teacher down at the school full time.

“—so the dancin’ helps wear you out so you can sleep?” he asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Insomnia is an absolute bitch, but if I can get myself tired enough, I’ll finally sleep—so dancing, which is much more fun than going for a jog or running.”

“Fuckin’ hate runnin’,” he replies, taking a drink.

You giggle. “I do, too,” you say, taking your own sip. “Was that your daughter earlier?” you ask.

“Oh.” He scratches his mustache. “Kinda? I’ve basically adopted her as my own, and she lives with me, but she doesn’t call me dad or anythin’ like that.” He shrugs.

“Okay, so you’ve got a kid, are from the Boston QZ, have been in Jackson for a month, are Tommy Miller’s brother, prefer whiskey, have the most gorgeous brown eyes, and enjoy watching random women dance in bars.”

He huffs out a breath, knowing his cheeks are tinted pink, darting his eyes away.

“I, uh, apologize if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable…”

You touch his bare forearm on the table, his flannel shirt’s sleeves rolled up, and his skin tingles under your palm.

“I promise you don’t make me uncomfortable at all. To tell you the truth, I quite enjoy you watching me and kinda hoped you’d talk to me sooner… or join me.”

He meets your gaze, swallowing hard, surprised at the hope swelling in his chest.

“I, uh, apologize again, but this time for bein’ so forward because I haven’t talked to a beautiful woman in quite some time, and I just want to make sure I’m not misreadin’ things…?”

You smile warmly at him.

“Joel, I am very interested in you romantically, and one drink away from being brave enough to see if you want to come back to my place.”

You do like him, and he’s honest to god shocked. He’d convinced himself he was better off alone, but maybe having someone wouldn’t be too bad. Jackson is safe, there isn’t much risk aside from patrols, and Ellie seemed to think he needs somebody—and you’re so beautiful and sweet; he was already gone on you before he’d spoken to you, and now that he knows he’s got a chance, he’s not going to waste it.

He gulps, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip as arousal crashes into him like a freight train.

His voice goes deeper. “I can promise you, I’d say yes.” He has to ask, though. “You really want an old guy like me?”

Smirking, you answer, “Oh, yeah, I really like you, and I just know you’ll be good in bed.” You wink, rubbing your hand up his arm.

He sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s been a long fuckin’ time, and I’m out of practice, so it might not be as good as you’re hopin’...”

“Good thing we’ve got all night for you to practice over and over and over again,” you purr.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, his jeans feeling much tighter. “You, uh—”

“Want to get the fuck out of here?” you interrupt, smiling at him. “I’d like that very much.”

Joel Miller is a goddamn sweetheart and a really good kisser.

The moment your front door is closed, he has you against it, kissing you hard—one of his hands cradling your face, the other moving up your stomach to grab your breast, moaning when his tongue slips between your lips to tangle with your own.

Arousal is burning brightly in your belly, your cunt throbbing with need, wanting this man desperately.

You, of course, had taken notice of Cute Corner Guy Joel Miller the first night he’d gone to the bar for a drink. Those beautiful brown eyes never looked at you salaciously. If anything, it was more in wonder and so unbelievably adorable you’d been dying to talk to him but wanted to ensure he made the first move to know he liked you and not just the show you put on. It didn’t matter to you that there were quite a few years between your ages; he’s incredibly attractive, and you wanted to know more about him. Plus, as a bonus, you’ve heard older men who grew up before the world went to shit were very generous in bed, which would be nice since your little bit of experience with guys your own age hasn’t been all that great.

Your fingers are working open the buttons on his shirt, his tongue sliding along yours in a way that makes your toes curl, him interrupting by grabbing the hem of your tank top, tugging it and your sports bra over your head in one go, tossing them away without a care. Returning to what you were doing, Joel's big hands are on your tits, trailing kisses down your neck until he’s bending to suck one of your pebbled nipples between his lips.

“Oh, god,” you gasp at the sensations shooting straight to your pussy.

He comes off you with a wet pop, smirking. “It’s Joel, but close.”

“A dumb joke—fuck, that’s hot.” His shirt was undone, impatiently pushing it off his arms and taking in his broad chest and the little bit of softness on his belly, noticing scars, some old, some new, littering his golden skin. “Fuck, you’re hot.”

He’s palming your breasts, his big, expressive eyes looking at you, and you can see the honesty in his gaze when he replies, “You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

“God, you’re so fucking endearing—I need your dick inside me,” you say, rubbing your hand over the impressive bulge in his jeans.

He chuckles. “Bedroom?”

“End of the hall.” You point.

He’s on you again, his lips crushing against yours, his hands on your waist to help guide you as he moves you away from the door, walking you backward down your hall, kicking off your shoes as you go.

You’re glad your tiny two-bedroom house was clean, squeaking in surprise when you basically get thrown into the middle of your queen-size bed, a lamp on your bedside table illuminating the room in a soft glow.

Sitting up on your elbows, you watch as he toes off his shoes, his belt clanking as he works it open, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He pushes them down and off with a groan, delightfully discovering that Joel goes commando and revealing the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen—long and slightly curved up with a nice girth to it, the tip reddened and shining with precum, your eyes going wide at how big he is.

For the first time, you think you might want to try blowing a guy, never having an opportunity before with people’s personal hygiene iffy outside of the town walls.

His attention is back on you, leaning over the mattress to grab the waistbands of your leggings and underwear, pulling them both off before he crawls up onto the bed between your spread legs.

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask.

His gaze is burning when it meets yours, shaking his head. “Sorry, baby. You can later, but right now, I gotta taste your pretty little pussy.”

Your eyebrows lift. “You’re gonna eat me out?”

No one has ever gone down on you. It’s always been quick fucks to scratch an itch—dear god, Joel’s going to ruin you for anyone else, you just know it, and it excites you immensely.

“May I?” he asks in return.

“Yeah, but you should know it’ll be the first time…”

His face goes pale, his eyes widening. “Havin’ sex…?” he croaks.

“What? No, I’ve had sex—” He visibly relaxes. “—a handful of times. There’s just never been much… foreplay? Kinda thought it was a myth.” You shrug your shoulders.

He’s frowning. “It ain’t no myth and a fuckin’ shame no one’s tasted you,” he says, moving onto his stomach, his big hands pushing your thighs apart with his head at the apex of your thighs, staring at your pussy with a look of hunger. He spread open the lips of your sex with his fingers. “I could spend hours with my face buried in this gorgeous cunt,” he rasps, his words making your core clench hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you whisper. Anticipation is swelling up inside you, suddenly blurting, “Can I keep you?”

You feel the blood rush to your face. ‘Can I keep you?’ Where the fuck did that come from, and how are you hoping he’ll respond, that he wants to date you? Actually, yes, that is your hope.

He meets your gaze with a confused look. “What?” he asks.

Taking a deep breath, you say, “I really like you and don’t want this to be a one-time thing… Can I keep you?” You chew on your bottom lip.

His face softens, eyes on yours as he kisses your inner thigh. “Yeah,” he replies. “You can keep me if I can keep you—I’m a one-woman kinda guy, anyway.”

“I can be your one woman?”

He smiles. “I’d like that very much, Tiny Dancer. Your, uh, handful of times, did any of them make you come…?”

The question has your face heating, answering, “...no. I usually took care of myself…”

He looks honest to god offended. “Fucking selfish men,” he seethes. “That won’t do. Here’s how this is gonna go. I’m gonna lick your pussy and use my fingers to make you come at least twice—It’s been a while, but I sure as fuck remember how to pleasure a woman. Then I’ll give you my dick, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know how long I’ll last bein’ inside your tight little cunt, but I’m aimin’ to make you come one more time, and that’ll be round one.”

The way he sounds so sure has you throbbing.

“Just marry me already, Joel.”

Your comment makes him laugh. “Let me take you out a few more times, and then we can discuss marriage,” he replies with a wink.

“Fucking deal.”

There’s an earnest expression on his face. “If I’m doin’ somethin’ you don’t like, tell me, no hard feelin’s—same goes for if there’s somethin’ you’re really likin’. I just wanna make you feel good, Tiny Dancer. You understand?”

You nodded your head.

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, Joel. I understand.”

He smiles. “Good girl.” His response has you gasping as tingles move down your spine. There’s a knowing smirk on his face. “You like that,” he states. “You like being my good girl—I know you’re gonna be real good for me, aren’t ya?”

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, so unbelievably turned on, nodding your head at his question.

His fingers slap against your clit, not hard, but enough it has sparks of pleasure igniting in your center, your head falling back as you moan.

“Words, baby,” he says.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasp.

“That’s my good girl. Feel free to pull my hair—I like it.” He ends the sentence with a wink, then his attention is back on your wet heat, watching him lick his lips, knowing he can see you glistening in arousal.

His fingers spread you open again.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he murmurs. “Bet you taste amazin’.”

He spits on your clit, your eyes going round, feeling the hot saliva as it slowly drips down to your sopping hole, moaning loudly when Joel’s head dips down, swiping his tongue through your folds from your entrance and back up.

It’s a new sensation and heavenly.

He’s groaning like he’s enjoying the most amazing meal, licking every bit of your sensitive flesh he can get. The beginnings of your orgasm are taking shape, feeling the heat starting to build low in your belly, and when his lips latch around your bundle of nerves, and he sucks, that’s when your hands end up in his grey hair, needing something to hold onto.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan. “It’s so good. Joel, it’s so good. Don’t stop.”

It’s almost overwhelming, your body starting to writhe, his arm like iron over your lower stomach to keep you still, his facial hair scratching deliciously on your intimate skin while he licks and sucks at you with abandon. You see him between your legs, your fingers tangled in his grey waves, his eyes closed as he feasts on you like a man starved—they open to meet your gaze, his glazed over and so dark you’re not sure any of the beautiful brown remains.

“You’re gonna make me come.” The muscles in your belly start to tighten, his tongue licking your entrance while his head shakes, nuzzling your clit with his perfect nose, and the sensations send you over the edge, your body tensing up as you come with a shout of his name, euphoria exploding in your veins.

You're panting as you fall back flat onto the bed, hearing Joel’s muffled voice saying into your cunt, good girl, him groaning as he shoves his tongue inside you to lick up your release.

You’re in love with him.

Or maybe that’s just the happy chemicals coursing through your body.

God, he’s perfect—how could you not fall in love with him?

His head pops up. “How was it?” his rough voice asks.

“I’m in love with you,” you answer dreamily.

His chuckle is warm. “That good?”

“Oh, yeah. Fucking incredible.” You sit back up on your elbows to look down at him, your slick coating his facial hair around his mouth and the bottom half of his face. “This is what I’ve been missing? I am mad but also so fucking happy you finally talked to me.”

“You, uh, really were waitin’ for me to talk to you?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I love your beautiful, expressive eyes, and you’ve always looked at me differently than other men, almost like you were seeing me and not just my body, you know? And I just really wanted to get to know you. I figured all of the winks and smiles would clue you in that I was interested.”

“I just thought you liked havin’ an audience.”

“You’re literally the only person I like watching me.”

He sighs loudly, looking away. “I feel dumb for not realizin’ sooner.” He shakes his head. “Fuck, I wouldn’t have even made a move if Ellie hadn’t put me up to it.”

You smile. “What, did she dare you?”

He has the sweetest smile when he meets your eyes. “No, she made a deal with me that she’d ask out her crush if I asked out mine.”

“That is the cutest shit, and I do not know why you being a good dad really does it for me. Come up here and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies, groaning as he crawls up the bed, ending up with his hips in the cradle of your thighs, feeling his cock all hot and hard digging into your belly. His arms are on either side of your head to hold himself up, his face above your own. “You’re beautiful,” he says, nudging the tip of his nose against yours.

“Thank you,” you breathe. “You’re very handsome.”

His lips hover over your own. “You want me to kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please.”

“As my lady commands,” he responds, slotting his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

You moan at tasting yourself on his lips, your hands ending up in his hair, opening for his tongue to slip inside and slide along your own. It gets more and more fervent, your body thrumming in desire until the need becomes too much, and you’re murmuring into his mouth. “Fuck me.”

He groans, answering, “Can’t yet—gotta make sure you can take me.”

You break the kiss, his mouth red and kiss swollen, his dark eyes looking at you questioningly.

“I’m wet enough,” you reply. “Just stick it in.”

He inhales deeply. “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

“Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”

It’s always a bit uncomfortable at first.

His eyes squeeze shut, taking a deep breath, whispering, Jesus Christ, on the exhale. “No, sweetheart, it’s not supposed to hurt if you’re doin’ it right.”

“Oh.” You’re frowning. “Joel?”

He looks at you. “Yes, Tiny Dancer?”

“I’ve had sex with the wrong people, haven’t I?”

“Looks that way, but we’re changin’ that tonight.” He kisses you quickly before he moves to lie on his side beside you, one arm propping his head up, his other fingers skating up your stomach to your breasts, circling around one nipple, then the other, making you shiver and goosebumps erupt on your skin. “I’m gonna use my fingers,” he rasps, his finger now circling your belly button. “I need to open you up—is that alright?”

“Yes.” You nod. “As we’ve discovered, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing—can’t believe I’ve been doing sex wrong.”

He sighs. “Just chose selfish assholes who didn’t give a fuck about you or your comfort.” His eyes narrow, eyebrows knitting together, his hand pausing. “Do any of ‘em live here?” he asks in a low tone, and the change in demeanor makes you gulp.

“So you can teach them a lesson…?”

“I just wanna talk, is all.”

“Uh-huh, right. With your fists? The enthusiasm is sexy, Joel, but they’re all back in Colorado.”

“A shame.”

You cup his cheek. “Just means you get to show me how to have good sex, and isn’t that exciting?” you ask, wagging your eyebrows. “You’re the first man who’s made me come, and I’d really like to do that with your dick inside me.”

“Fuck,” the word is said barely above a whisper, seeing his throat bob as he swallows. “You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me. I fuckin’ know it.”

Smiling, you pat his cheek. “Never, Joel. I like you too damn much.”

He has a little smirk. “Yeah? You like me?”

“I mean, I’m counting this as our first date, and I’ve already told you I’m in love with you and have basically proposed marriage, so I’d say yes, I like you very much.”

He chuckles, his hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip. “You’re so fuckin’ cute.” He presses two fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he orders. “Get ‘em nice and wet so I can loosen you up ‘cause I am fuckin’ dyin’ to be inside you.”

Doing as he says, you suck them into your mouth, massaging them with your tongue, ensuring you’re getting them nice and wet, feeling delighted when his mouth falls open.

“Have uh—” He pauses to audibly gulp. “You asked if you could suck my dick. Have you ever…?”

His fingers leave you, shining in spit.

“No,” you answer, shaking your head. “It’d be another first.”

His eyes get darker, moving his hand between your legs, sucking in a breath when he slowly circles your clit, causing sparks of arousal to dance in your belly.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll show you how a bit later—I’m still convinced you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” his voice is huskier, dipping his fingers lower to press one thick finger into your aching entrance. “Especially,” he continues, sliding in another digit that makes you moan at the stretch, “with this pussy.” His fingers are pumping in and out of you while his thumb moves on your bundle of nerves, the fire burning low in your stomach, slowly building. He scissors his digits, and you gasp his name.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning over you to give you a quick kiss. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him back down for another that he smiles into, him murmuring against your lips, “Gotta get you really fuckin’ wet and stretch you out a bit, pretty girl. I want you to love havin’ my dick inside you and make you feel so good, you beg me to fuck you again—bet you wouldn’t let any of those other guys back inside this perfect pussy.” You’re whimpering, energy thrumming under your skin as he works you up. “Fuck, you’ve made me so fuckin’ hard it hurts. All I can think about is how fuckin’ tight and warm you’ll be when I finally split you open on my cock—Hell, might even make me come on the spot. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya? Knowing your sweet little cunt drives me fuckin’ wild—you drive me wild, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you and wanna be the only man you want or need.”

He kisses you again, his words making your heart pound in your chest, your body burning up, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

“You are,” you moan into his mouth.

“I’m what?”

“The only man I want.” Your fingers have a tight grip on his grey strands of hair. “It’s so fucking good, Joel—you’re fingers feel so fucking good. Oh my god, you’re gonna make me come again.”

“Damn straight, I am.”

He crooks his fingers, sliding them along your top wall until he rubs something that has you pulling his hair and moaning his name, your back arching. “There it fuckin’ is.” He sped up, fucking his digits into it over and over, the fire in your belly getting hotter and hotter.

“You gonna come for me?” he asks, hearing his fingers moving in and out of you wetly. “Can feel you fuckin’ flutterin’, I know you’re close.”

There’s no time for you to answer because you’re hitting your breaking point and coming with a gasp of his name, your cunt seizing up as pleasure radiates through your body.

“There we fuckin’ go,” he says into your lips. “My good girl.” He kisses you hard, pressing a third finger inside you, the wetness from your orgasm easing the way. Your mind is a pleasurable haze, enjoying his lips on yours while he spreads his fingers, reveling in the delicious stretch.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back, and you open your eyes to see his already on yours.

“I think you’re ready,” he says. “You still want my dick?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’ve never wanted dick more.”

That makes him smile.

“Good,” he replies, nuzzling his nose against yours before kissing you softly.

His fingers leave you, groaning as he moves to have his body hovering over yours with one arm beside your head, holding himself up while kneeling between your legs.

He meets your gaze. “You tell me if it doesn’t feel good.”

“Yes, Joel.” You nod again.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His free hand comes up to his mouth, spitting on his fingers, using them to slick up his cock, then he slides his length through your folds to get himself even wetter. He notches at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in, it feeling like he’s splitting you open, your cunt accommodating his girth, stretching around him, filling you inch by glorious inch.

He’s cursing under his breath as he slides in all the way, and when he’s bottomed out, you feel so unbelievably full it has you gasping—your fingers are digging into his shoulders, Joel’s face pressing into your neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, the sound muffled. “You’re pussy’s gonna make me come.” The thought of him coming inside you has you clenching around him. “Fuck,” he pants. “Don’t do that—I need a second, or this is gonna end before it’s started.”

You’ve never let someone come inside you, yet here you are saying roughly, “Joel?”

His head comes up immediately to look you in the eyes with worry on his brow.

“Am I hurtin’ you?” he asks earnestly. “Is it too much?”

“No, it’s so fucking good—it feels so fucking good. You feel so good inside me.”

“What is it, Tiny Dancer?”

“I want you to come inside me. Please.”

He hisses, a pained look coming over his face, feeling his cock jerk. “I can’t,” he pants. “Can’t risk it—you can have it anywhere else.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying not to sound too downtrodden—it’s his choice, after all, and you respect it.

“Sorry, baby,” he kisses you sweetly. “I’m gonna move.” He pulls one of your legs up high on his ribs, then the other, both of his arms ending up on either side of your head, locking your feet at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulls almost all the way and pushes back in, both your mouths falling open. He starts with a slow, steady rhythm, his dick carving out space in your depths and filling you perfectly. He’s so big that when he pushes all the way inside, it feels like he’s all up in your guts, the feeling stealing your breath, but it’s so good—his cock is pressing into spots you didn’t know existed, that familiar heat making itself known in your lower belly.

Sex has never felt like this.

He’d gotten you so wet, he’s sliding easily in and out of you, hearing the suck of your pussy taking him. It’s blowing your mind at how fucking amazing it feels, even with him being so well-endowed, there isn’t any discomfort—you’re moaning unbidden, unable to keep it in, Joel breathing hard, him slowly picking up the pace until he’s grunting, and there’s a slap of skin on skin, his thick cock filling you over and over.

The only thing you can think about is how good he feels, pleasure wracking through your body with every push and pull of his hips. Your nails are digging into the skin of his shoulder blades, Joel's mouth fusing with yours to kiss you while he fucks.

“Touch yourself,” he says into your lips, and you slide a hand into the little bit of space between your bodies to play with your clit. His golden skin glistens in sweat, a beautiful flush crawling up from his chest to his gorgeous neck and cheeks, rough sounds pulling from his throat as he kisses you. Your fingers work against your sensitive nub, and it has you rocketing closer and closer to your end before you’re coming again, crying out his name, your body tensing, your pussy squeezing him so tight, a strangled groan escapes Joel as he has to slow to a stop.

Your body is alight in ecstasy, Joel nose to nose with you, a drop of sweat on the tip of his falling onto yours, saying through heavy breaths, “You almost fuckin’ got me.”

Blinking open your eyes, you look up at him with a dreamy smile.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice rougher than usual. “Am I gonna make you come?”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are.”

“Good—come for me.”

He starts moving again, his hips pushing in and out of you, hearing the wet slide of his cock fucking into you.

His face screws up like he’s in pain, his mouth slack, eyebrows knitting together, eyes closed, grunting as he sets up a hard pace that makes your eyes roll back.

It’s so fucking good.

“I want you to come for me,” you moan. “I want you to feel good, Joel.” Your hands move into his sweat-damp hair.

“I feel so fuckin’ good with you,” he groans, crashing his mouth to yours, kissing you desperately, all tongues and teeth, your noses bumping.

The springs in the mattress are squeaking, the headboard hitting the wall in time with his thrusts, the slick sounds of your pussy taking him filling the air, combined with moans and groans, the noises in the room are absolutely obscene.

He’s panting into your mouth, picking up in speed, his rhythm getting jerky.

It’s been a long fucking time since he last fucked someone, and he’s so fucking lost inside your pussy—it’s nirvana, heaven, your tight, wet heat lulling him to his finish, his brain unable to think of anything else except how good you feel around him; how perfect, your cunt hugging his cock snugly in your deep, warm depths, and making him lose his goddamn mind.

He told you he couldn’t come inside you—that’s been a hard no for him ever since he lost Sarah, not wanting to risk bringing another child into this godforsaken world, and here you are tempting him.

His conundrum is he likes you a lot, and he knows you like him, too, and not only that, you just like him—there’s no ulterior motive, you don’t want or expect anything from him except him, and he’s so fucking gone on you that maybe it might not be a bad thing if consequences happen from this evening.

Here in this somewhat normal town, he can see you having a life together. One night, and he’d like to have a life with you or whatever you’re willing to give him. He’s spent so many years suffering in his grief and wasting away his days that maybe it’s time for him to actually live. Ellie’s here and safe, and now you’ve come into the picture, and he doesn’t want to keep living the way he has been.

He’s feeling so fucking good, caught up in how you’ve bewitched him, his strokes getting faster, the knot in his belly winding tighter and tighter—it hits him suddenly—the point of no return, his balls tightening up, and it��s too late to pull out, he’s too far gone. His cock is pushed in all the way to the hilt when the coil snaps, coming with a guttural groan that reverberates in his chest, spurts and spurts of his spend gushing deep inside you, Joel feeling like he’s filling you to the brim.

Pleasure is thrumming in his veins, his heart pounding, collapsing on top of you with his face nestled in the crook of your neck, panting breaths and comforted by your scent—your fingers are moving in his hair, and he’s on cloud nine.

The thing that surprises him is he’s not panicking. At minimum, he expected dread, yet there’s nothing but warmth and happy contentment.

When was the last time he felt this blissed out?

He can’t even fucking remember—he hasn’t felt this relaxed in probably over twenty years.

You say something, but he’s so out of it he doesn’t make out the words.

He hums in question, putting all of his energy into listening.

“I said I’m keeping you.”

Joel snorts.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’m keepin’ you, too. Fuckin’ milked me dry.”

“Was that okay?” you ask, and he can hear your worry, lifting his head to look you in the eyes.

“I’m well aware of what could happen—are you okay with that?”

There’s a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then everything’s okay.” He kisses you tenderly.

After a minute, you pull back. “You’re gonna stay the night, right? Like, we can do… more?”

He smiles. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I’m assumin’ you have it off?”

“I do.”

“So do I, and I’d love to stay tonight and the next if you’ll have me.”

Your mouth is turned up in that gorgeous smile, him loving your fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “You can stay forever, Joel.”

And there isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

2 years later…

It’s a warmer night, with it being the beginning of summer. The stars shine brightly in the sky high above as Joel and you stroll hand in hand down the street back to his house.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” you tell him, turning your head to look at him, the moon offering some light.

He meets your eyes. “Anytime, Tiny Dancer—it was better than me fightin’ that fucker who wouldn’t leave you alone.”

The bar had been packed tonight, with a lot more people dancing and one guy, who you assumed was new to town, that wouldn’t stop bothering you, which led to Joel getting up from his corner table and staring daggers at the other man as he pulled you into his arms and danced with you.

“It was better, and I enjoyed it very much.”

He smiles. “I know you did, baby,” he replies, kissing your hair.

Arriving at the house, Joel opens the front door for you, walking in first, hearing sounds in the living room, and heading that way.

“...Oh no!” Ellie exclaims dramatically. “They’re gonna get you—better use the jump drive!” As you walk into the room, she makes rocket noises, finding her lying on her back in the middle of the floor, holding up a laughing one-year-old, pretending the baby is flying. “Oh, yuck, you got drool in my mouth, Ollie.” She lowers the baby down on her chest to wipe at her mouth, Joel standing beside you, his arm going around your waist, both of you smiling. Her head tilts up, realizing you’re standing there. “Hey!” she greets. “Wait, fuck, how late is it?”

“Late enough that Olivia should be asleep,” you answer.

Olivia Sarah Miller was a year and three months old and looked so much like her dad that, aside from her complexion, it was a wonder if she’d gotten any of your genes.

“Fuck.” Ellie sits up with one arm, the other holding the baby. “I can explain—you know she has that tooth coming in, and she wouldn’t stop crying when I tried to put her in bed, so I brought her down here so she could chew on a cold carrot like you told me to do when she’s teething. While she was doing that, I was reading her that issue of Savage Starlight Joel found me, and then you know, she wanted to be Dr. Daniela Star and travel faster than light.”

“Uh huh,” Joel says. “Olive wanted to be the Doctor?”

“She did,” Ellie confirms.

“Your baby sister, who can barely talk, told you that?” he asks.

“I’ve learned to translate her babbles, and it was clear she said—” Ellie uses her free hand to make the baby’s bottom lip move to look like she’s talking. “—‘Ellie, I wanna fly.’”

“You’re a fuckin’ liar.”

Olivia yawns, her eyes starting to close on their own.

Ellie grins, speaking quietly, “Yeah, but I tired her out, so you’re fuckin’ welcome.”

Joel sighs, walking over to her, the baby looking up at her dad and holding up her little chubby arms, saying in a tired voice, “Dadadadadada.”

“Yes, baby girl,” he answers fondly. “Daddy’s home.” He groans as he bends down to pick her up, the baby shoving her face in his neck, putting one of her hands on his chin. “Thank you for watchin’ her, Ellie,” he says. “A great job, as always. You stayin’ the night here or goin’ over to Cat’s?”

“Heading to Cat’s, but I’ll meet you guys for breakfast in the morning,” she replies, getting up from the floor.

“We’ll see you then, kiddo.”

“Thanks again, Ellie,” you tell her, smiling. “You’re your sister’s favorite babysitter.”

“Fuck yeah, I am!” she replies in whispered exclamation, walking closer to you. “Hopefully, I’ll be the next one’s favorite, too. How’s my brother doing?”

You snort. “Such high hopes it’s a boy when you know Joel is a girl dad—give me your hand.” She holds it out to you, and you press it to your large swollen belly. “Feel them kicking?”

Her eyes are round in wonder, staring at your stomach. “Strong fuckin’ kicks,” she says. “I definitely think it’s a boy.”

“Well, less than two months, and we’ll know.”

“Yeah, soon I’ll be proven right. Night guys!”

“Goodnight,” you both reply, watching as she heads out of the living room, hearing the front door open and close.

Olivia is passed out in Joel’s arms, him turning his head to kiss her forehead, his big hand rubbing up and down her back.

“Let’s go put her down,” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers just as quietly. “I believe I made a promise to my wife I’d eat her out for an hour.”

“Pretty sure it was two hours, and you did, my sweet husband.” Reaching up to stroke his cheek.

“I love you,” he says with big eyes full of devotion, his head moving to kiss your palm.

“I love you, too.”

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

Tagging: @absurdthirst @littlemisspascal @pedrostories @theorganasolo @thefictionalgemini @pinkninja200 @lol-im-done @koryianders @pointlessandfutile @flyingmushroomss@abbyhaslongshorts@savage-aespa @sofietargaryen @kpopslur@superflymaterial@virtuallia@moobaggg @shaunthesheesh @marsroxx @whore4dilfs@majdoline@mandowhatnow@autobotgirl15-blog@lentil-s0up @myloveistoolittle@perksofbeingamultifandomm @squirtlebob @joliettes @aonungs-tsahik@javierpenasimp @thewayiknowyou@magic-magnoliaa @vanemando15 @eddiemunscns @gracie7209@fan-fiction-floozy@butterscotch-mafia@deliriousfangirl61 @khaylin27@notyourlovemonkey@a-wild-haggis @scorpiomindfuck @fandomandotherthings @seitmai@myswficlist@call-me-doll-face @fictionalmenloversblog@addisonnie@aaetherr69

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #wheresarizona writes #joel miller smut

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 3 months

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Sweetheart

Summary: Emily and you have had tension for a while, and she's always had a soft spot for you and while at her apartment true feeling come to light.

Word Count: 1.2k

Fluff, slight angst, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Legal but significant age gap

(a/n: omfg this is so shit i'm so sorry)

Emily's pov:

"Wait you like her!?" JJ asked me for the millionth time since I told her since I told her I had a crush on the new agent that joined the team. Her name is Y/n Y/l/n, she's perfect. Her laugh is captivating and simply angelic, she's got such a lovely personality that just pulls me in, and she's so goddamn gorgeous.

"Yes, JJ I like her." I'm starting to think telling her wasn't a good idea.

"Oh you so have to ask her out!" JJ squealed in delight.

"Are you insane!? She's like half my age and my subordinate jayj, I can't do that!" My face starts to heat up just thinking about telling her.

"Okay we'll please, think about it! She definitely likes you back em I promise you that much. Before you even try to argue, have you seen the way she looks at you? She's basically in love!" JJ's smile was infectious, naturally I started smiling as well (and because I can't think about y/n/n and not smile).

"I'll think about it okay? Deal?" She looked happy with that answer as she began to leave my office.

"Oh and JJ please could you get everyone into the meeting room, we have a case." I asked politely.

"Yeah of course." She smiled as she closed the door.

I let out a sigh and actually thought about the deal I had just made. I'm going to have to talk to her before JJ (and most likely Garcia and Tara at this point) get to her first.

I leave my office and go to the round table where everyone is slowly filing in.

"Hello my furry friends, we -clearly- have a case!" Garcia says, her usual chirpy voice echoing through the room. "There has been a serial killer targeting specifically lesbian couples right here in Virginia." Damn. This is going to be a long case.

Time skip to when they've arrived

Reader pov:

Jeez, this case hits way too close to home. Just let us girls love girls. You know?

"Okay, Tara, Rossi you go to the first scene and see what you can find, Derek, JJ and Reid go to the local PD set up and talk to the families, Y/l/n you're with me, we're going to the second scene." Everyone scrambled off to their respective SUV's as we got off the jet.

Just the thought of being alone with Emily was making me nervous. She's so amazing in every way, her smile, her laugh, her nose, her personality. She's perfect. And her hair, the grey hair is doing something to me. But she's my boss and she's older than me and ugh, it'll never happen. Emily always been really close to me though, staying late to help me with paperwork, talks over coffee at lunch, her hand grazing over my back, our fingertips brushing as she hands me a file... I know I'm reading too far into it but I wasn't.

"You ready?" Her soft voice snaps me out of my trance.

"Yeah, I'm ready." I smile at her as we get in the car. I sit down and she looks over at me, making my cheeks flush a light pink.

"You alright?" Emily asked, gently placing her hand on my thigh. My cheeks flush and even deeper red at that simple touch and she seems to cotton on. This is going to be a long day.

"Yea-yeah I'm fine don't even worry" I see her lips pull up into a smirk as we begin to drive, she doesn't show any sign of moving her hand so I just let her be, enjoying the feeling of her warm touch.

Time skip to after the case (cba to write a case sry)

"Hey you." Emily said as she came up behind me and trailed her fingers over my lower back as she came to stand beside me.

"Hey, you okay?" She smiles at me and my knees almost buckle right then and there.

"Yeah I'm okay sweetheart are you?" Oh. My. God. The nickname, you see that puddle on the floor? That's me.

"I'm good." My cheeks flush a crimson colour as she pressed her fingers against my face.

"You're feeling a bit warm, you sure you're okay? Actually don't answer that, you're going to say yes not matter what. You're coming to mine tonight." This wasn't an uncommon occurrence as she's always been protective over me.

"I'm not sick I promise." I say slightly embarrassed because she's the reason my cheeks are so warm.

"Okay but you're still coming to mine, okay?"

"Not gunna argue with that."

"Good, you shouldn't."

We both gather our stuff and get in the car to drive to Emily's.

Time skip to when they're at Emily's

I walk into her apartment and put down my bag, turning to face em.

"What? Do I have something on my face?" She laughed as she spoke.

"No, no. You're fine." I smiled as I shamelessly studied her features, not bothering to hide anymore.

"Honey come on, why are you staring?" She moved closer as she said this holding her hands on my hips and gently guiding me closer to her.

"You're just so beautiful em." I mutter, my breath fanning over her face.

"Oh sweetheart please don't do this to me, I want you so bad but we both know it can't happen. I'm your boss and, I'm so much older than you." She bent forward and placed our foreheads together.

"Emily please-" she interrupts me,

"No love, I want nothing more than to be with you but be realistic. I'll get old faster than you and you'll loose interest and then.." I don't let her finish as I smash my lips onto hers.

My head is spinning as her lips glide over mine in perfect sync. My hand threads through her silver hair and rugs her closet to me, her tongue grazes my bottom lip asking for entrance and I grant her exactly what she wants. Her tongue slips effortlessly into my mouth and she instantly takes control of the kiss. She backs me into a wall and holds one hand on my waist and the other holding my cheek.

We pull away after a while and she still doesn't look like she thinks this can go anywhere.

"Why won't you let me love you?" Tears well up in my eyes, I was trying not to be too emotional but the fact that Emily was denying herself live and happiness because she thought she wasn't good enough broke my heart.

"Oh my love, please don't cry, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just let me love you em, please."

"Okay."

"Really?"

I pull her into my embrace and she taps the back of my thighs signalling for me to jump. I'm now clinging onto her koala style, still against the wall, and her head is buried in my shoulder, I'm placing tender kisses along her hairline, telling her how much Ill take care of her and how much I love her.

"I love you."

"I love you too sweetheart."

#wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader #fluff #light angst

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she-is-ovarit · 7 months

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Women and girls are oppressed on the axis of sex:

Economic

Around 2.4 billion women of working age are not afforded equal economic opportunity and 178 countries maintain legal barriers that prevent their full economic participation, according to the World Bank’s Women, Business and the Law 2022 report. In 86 countries, women face some form of job restriction and 95 countries do not guarantee equal pay for equal work.

Globally, women still have only three quarters of the legal rights afforded to men -- an aggregate score of 76.5 out of a possible 100, which denotes complete legal parity.

Gender inequality is a major cause and effect of hunger and poverty: it is estimated that 60 percent of chronically hungry people are women and girls. (Source: WFP Gender Policy and Strategy.)

Less than 20 percent of the world's landholders are women. Women represent fewer than 5 percent of all agricultural landholders in North Africa and West Asia, while in sub-Saharan Africa they make up an average of 15 percent.

In the United States, the labor force participation rate among females is 56.5% and among males is 67.5% for 2022

Vulnerable employment among women [in the US] has remained nearly the same since 1991. Workers in vulnerable employment are the least likely to have formal work arrangements, social protection, and safety nets to guard against economic shocks; thus they are more likely to fall into poverty. Vulnerable employment among women is 3.9% and among men is 4.6% in the United States for 2021.

In the United States, women spend 1.6 times as much time on unpaid domestic and care work than men. In 2019, women in the United States spent 15.3% of their day and men spent 9.7% of their day on unpaid work.

A 2013 study revealed that 7.6% of lesbian couples in the United States live in poverty compared to 5.7% of married different-sex couples. Similarly, one-third of lesbian couples without a high school diploma were in poverty compared to 18.8% of different-sex couples.

Study: Stereotypes of middle-aged women as less ‘nice’ can hold them back at work.

Women hold 66% of all student loan debt. 41% of women undergraduates take out student loans, compared to 35% of male undergraduates. Women take an additional two years on average to pay off student loans.

Education

Women make up more than two-thirds of the world's 796 million illiterate people.

While progress has been made in reducing the gender gap in urban primary school enrollment, data from 42 countries shows that rural girls are twice as likely as urban girls to be out of school.

Male violence against women

In the United States, the share of women who have experienced intimate partner violence is nearly the same as the world average, 27%. Intimate partner violence is by far the most prevalent form of violence against women globally and is defined as the percentage of ever-married women (ages 15-49) who have ever experienced physical or sexual violence committed by their husband or partner.

35% of women worldwide have experienced either physical and/or sexual intimate partner violence or non-partner sexual violence.

1 in 3 women, around 736 million, are subjected to physical or sexual violence by an intimate partner or sexual violence from a non-partner – a number that has remained largely unchanged over the past decade.

Globally, 7% of women have been sexually assaulted by someone other than a partner.

Globally, as many as 38% of murders of women are committed by an intimate partner.

200 million women have experienced female genital mutilation/cutting.

Violence against women in Mexico rises to over 70%, study finds

7 in 10 human trafficking victims are women and girls.

Women and girls represent 65 per cent of all trafficking victims globally. More than 90 per cent of detected female victims are trafficked for the purpose of sexual exploitation.

Politics, power, and Influence

28.7% of seats in national parliament were held by women in 2022 in the United States

Metadata analysis shows biographies of women on Wikipedia are deleted and marked non-notable at a significantly higher rate than those of men.

Women continue to be underrepresented in the fields of science, technology, engineering and mathematics, representing only slightly more than 35% of the world’s STEM graduates. Women are also a minority in scientific research and development, making up less than a third of the world’s researchers.

Medical discrimination, medical violence, and female healthcare

Women 32% more likely to die after operation by male surgeon

Women are over-medicated because drug dosage trials are done on men.

Women are sometimes forcibly sterilized, without consent, across the globe.

Mental Health

A 2016 study investigating physical and mental health, and experiences of violence among male and female trafficking survivors in England found 78% of women and 40% of men reported high levels of depression, anxiety, or PTSD symptoms.

Female people in the US attempt suicide more frequently than men.

Adult women have higher rates of mental illness than adult men

Discrimination, bias, and sex-based stereotypes

UN report finds 90% of men and women hold some sort of bias against females.

Men were 93 percent more likely to have their loans discharged when disclosing a medical condition, as compared to women who disclosed medical conditions.

We historically are not included in research, and when we are, are grouped in with men which is unhelpful (bonus question: What does this mean, then, if male people who "identify-as-women" are grouped in with women and not considered a separate category?)

The Madonna-Whore Dichotomy (MWD) denotes polarized perceptions of women in general as either “good,” chaste, and pure Madonnas or as “bad,” promiscuous, and seductive whores. Men who reported higher endorsement of the Madonna-whore-dichotomy rated their partner as less entitled to sexual pleasure. Women who reported higher endorsement of the Madonna-whore dichotomy devalued their own pleasure by rating their partner as more entitled to sexual pleasure than themselves.

“Their Great Shame is Poverty”: Women Portrayed as Among the “Undeserving Poor” are Seen as Deserving Sexual Assault

The Impact of Media Use on Girls' Beliefs About Gender Roles, Their Bodies, and Sexual Relationships: A Research Synthesis.

Mothers in China for decades pressured their daughters to bind their feet - often destroying the function and formation of their feet - in order to please and service men.

My one disclaimer to this post is that there is a tremendous amount of information left out of this post. This is because it is impossible to capture the vast amount of research and details within studies illuminating the sex-based oppression of women and girls. I have not gone into depth on the impact of media on teenage girls' body image, the role of trauma in girls influencing them to hate their bodies, FGM, the Iranian protests, etc. I hope others reblog and add more information.

#women's oppression #female oppression #sex-based oppression #women's rights #afab #women's research #patriarchy

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ystrike1 · 6 months

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Honey Trouble - By Morak (8.5/10)

A/B/O, but everybody is rich and everybody is happy. Our main couple has it made. The son of a famous actress. The son of two successful architects. They're just sleeping together now, but our spoiled main character is about to get a lavish marriage proposal. Life couldn’t be more perfect, and then it isn't. Then his casual lover changes.

Wooju is a moron. A pretty one, who happens to be a Beta from a rich family. He's rich enough to not work ever, but he's passionate about architecture. Which is super convenient because his loving parents own a construction company. He plans to work diligently for other firms, because he knows his parents will only let him into the fold if he proves himself.

He's also stupid about romance. He seems to think he's not popular, because everybody is crazy about Alphas and Omegas. He doesn't seem to know about the illegal drugs out there that can change genders. He's selfish and carefree.

He starts sleeping with his childhood friend for an extremely dumb reason. Jiheon loves him. Love. Love. Love. Loves him. His entire family knows how possessive he is, but Wooju doesn't. He's used to being spoiled.

He's used to Jiheon spoiling him. Jiheon is always there supporting and helping Wooju, but it's tainted by stalking. Wooju has no idea, because he thinks Alphas are only obsessed with Omegas. Usually they are. It's rare for an Alpha to choose a Beta, but it happens. Wooju is totally ignorant, even when Jiheon is serious about proposing to him. Jiheon is a monster, but it's easy to feel bad for him. He did all the right things. They're best friends. They're sleeping together, but Wooju just doesn't see him as a partner because of his gender.

It's actually painful to read.

Wooju is a little weird because be got kidnapped once???? Jiheon was somehow involved???? Most likely the adults in both families were involved, because the boys were just kids but what??? The mystery kidnapping messed with their friendship for a while too? It's been thirty chapters and the kidnapping hasn't been explained????

Real intrigue in an A/B/O story??? I am impressed????

Wooju has a crush on Jiheon's cousin. That doesn't last long. That poor cousin is terrified. She is also a lesbian, but she also doesn't want to piss off her crazy Alpha relative. It's all very cute? At first? Wooju and Jiheon do behave like a married couple. It's easy to imagine them together, after Wooju realizes gender doesn't matter.

Jiheon is a model. He's rich. He's got mommy issues. His mommy doesn't love him and she doesn't even visit him. When he became an adult she left the country and cut contact. He's a big, tough, successful Alpha but he's never had a family. That's why he tries to spoil Wooju so much. He loves Wooju. He wants to spend the rest of his life with Wooju. They're both rich. They can just adopt kids. Jiheon wants to marry someone who is like a best friend, not a sexy Omega that is just...there to be sexy.

It's all very wholesome, in the beginning.

Jiheon plans a proposal. He hires Wooju's favorite architect. Said architectural genius is going to design their wedding house. That's right Jiheon is so rich he's gifting Wooju a custom home. Architect guy turns out to be a creep who takes advantage of Wooju's admiration, and everything goes sour.

Everything starts to go wrong.

Architect guy is really annoying. He withholds information. He makes Jiheon look like a bad guy, because he's interested in Wooju and he wants their relationship to crack. There's also a pretty gross age gap. Also they are teacher and student. Also Wooju thinks he's hot, but he is not interested in architect/professor guy romantically. It's just awkward. Architect guy just tosses him into awkward sexy situations, when he's in class to learn??? Like, its so rude??? You're supposed to be teaching a passionate architecture fan, but you're horny and you'd rather make him uncomfortable....it's....icky.

Architect Guy explains pheromone marking to Wooju. He says Wooju is covered in Jiheon markings. Then he leaves a marking on Wooju, an extremely insecure Alpha who is about to PROPOSE WITH A HOUSE, just to freak Jiheon out.

Jiheon does freak out.

Things get worse.

Things get worse again. This is Wooju's ex-boyfriend. Yes, Wooju has dated men before. Yes, Jiheon didn't know. Yes, Wooju hasn't expressed any interest in committing to Jiheon and it seems like he wants to stay besties forever. Wooju and the ex are on good terms as well.

Also.

Wooju dated this guy when his relationship with Jiheon went bad before. So basically as soon as Jiheon left he started banging dudes.

Jiheon starts to see red.

They have a fight, and it's the last chance. Jiheon cries. He asks Wooju, with tears in his eyes, if he wants more. Wooju isn't a baby. He's an architect in training with talent. He has dated before. He just has trouble seeing a future with Jiheon, because he's an Alpha and they have that kidnapping trauma bond thing.

He doesn't tell Jiheon he cares. Jiheon runs away alone, thinking he's not special to Wooju. He's not special to his mom. He's not special to anyone he loves. To have love he must pick an Omega and entrap them into loving him. That's his only option. He starts to see his true self as unworthy of love. Only his Alpha self is capable of stealing it from someone else, so he can finally have it.

Do you remember the drugs I mentioned before????????????

Do you?????

#Honey Trouble #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #yaoi

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starcrossed591 · 4 months

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CDrama Year in Review 2023

I'm still very much a CDrama beginner--I just started watching them in the summer of 2022--but since this is the first year I got into them in earnest, I figured I might as well do a year in review a la @dangermousie (whose lists I have found incredibly helpful in deciding which CDramas I really, really need to go back and watch as part of my CDrama education--so thank you!). So, without further adieu, here is my ranking of 2023 CDramas, in order of least enjoyed to most enjoyed*.

(See also: KDrama Year in Review 2023)

*Disclaimer: *not* a measure of objective quality

10. Royal Rumours: This drama was not great? Meng Zi Yi and Jeremy Tsui were fun, but the story started out messy and got messier. For some reason I still finished it, I think because I had a lingering cold and it was all my brain could handle at the time *shrug*

9. Gone with the Rain: I actually really enjoyed this one! The pacing was inconsistent, but Zhang Nan was fun as the irreverent Mo Xi, and we love a grizzled general. Special shout to the teacher who was not actually evil, just a sad lesbian whose gf disappeared on her

8. Love You Seven Times: Intriguing concept, not a strong enough FL to carry it through. The reincarnation stuff really worked for me at first, especially in their first mortal tribulation (as people, not CGI animals), but I got tired of it pretty quickly. I admit, the gifs of Ding Yu Xi as a sexy cat demon *did* pull me back in, but not enough for me to actually finish the thing, alas

7. Destined/Chang Feng Du: Started out really strong, and then stalled out on me. I think I only got up to about episode 22 or so, after their epic desert crossing and new start in a new state--they lost all narrative momentum for me there. I stopped watching and then just...didn't start again. I do, however, remain a big Bai Jing Ting fan, and will be keeping on eye out for whatever he does next

6. Hidden Love: (Contemporary) Age gap romances are hit or miss for me, but Zhao Lu Si absolutely stole/carried the show for me in this one. Although more fun imo when the main couple are in the the will-they-won't-they phase than in the family melodrama after they get together, still the only contemporary CDrama to get me to give it a go this year--and I'm glad I did

5. My Journey to You: Featuring my favorite murder girlies Esther Yu as Yun Wei Shan and Lu Yu Xiao as Shanguan Qian! Gorgeous costumes and sets, sweeping cinematography, and plot that kept me on the edge of my seat. Full disclosure, I have not actually watched the last two episodes because I got busy and then saw weird chatter about them, so I have no comment on the allegedly weird ending

4. Till the End of the Moon: Look, I know the ending wasn't ideal, but for the majority of its run, this drama owned my entire soul. It also introduced me to Bai Lu as Li Su Su, who inspired my first actual tumblr post (that wasn't a reblog) because I was so obsessed with her. And everyone knows that Tantai Jin is the CDrama ML of the year. 10/10, no regrets at letting it take over my life (and the OST my Spotify) from April to May of this year

3. The Story of Kunning Palace: More Bai Lu is always a good thing, and she's extra fun here as the transmigrated former evil empress and totally-over-your-nonsense Xiang Xue Ning here. The reverse haremness of it all totally shows why Bai Lu is the chemistry queen, especially with the princess (Liu Xie Ning) and cranky, morally grey, would-fail-gym-class strategist Xie Wie (Zhang Ling He). So glad this drama made it out of the CDrama vault and didn't languish indefinitely in censorship hell

2. A Journey to Love: Finished this one two days ago as of this writing and am still not normal about it. Ren Ruyi (Liu Shi Shi) and Ning Yuan Zhou (Liu Yu Ning) lead an exceptionally strong ensemble cast in this wuxia that explores the complicated relationships between love, duty, loyalty, loneliness, and companionship. Ruyi and Yuan Zhou are far and away one of my fave OTPs of the year, but just as compelling are the relationships between friends/brothers/fellow assassins Yu Shisan, Yuan Lu (ugh my heart), Qian Zhou, and Sun Lang. This drama definitely has one of the strongest ensemble casts of the year. And the character growth of Yang Ying from little princess abandoned in the cold palace to who she becomes by the end will stick with me for a long time. Plus another 10/10 OST!

1. Lost You Forever S1: I'm not normally a reverse harem girl, but the longing, loss, and hard resolve portrayed to perfection by Yang Zi as Xiao Yao really did it for me here. This whole drama struck an emotional chord for me, and where TTEOTM consumed my soul, LYF took over my heart. Xiao Yao's relationships with her power hungry, overprotective cousin Cang Xuan; hot snake demon Xiang Liu/playboy archery shufu Feng Feng Bei; and perfectly devoted Tushan Jing are all equally compelling to me, and while I may know who she ends up with in the end, who I *think* she should be with changes based on who's on screen at any given time. And A'Nian, my favorite bratty princess who really just needs some strong parenting, holds a special place in my heart. I know we may never get S2, and even if we do, censorship means it probably won't be what the drama makers are capable of, but I'm so glad for this little piece of absolute perfection. And, again, a top notch OST!

Fave Drama: Lost You Forever, by just a hair over A Journey to Love. See above.

Least Fave Drama: Royal Rumours--truly why did I finish this, what was past me thinking

Biggest Disappointment: 2023 is also the year I read Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir, my very first CNovel! But then I didn't even bother checking out its adaptation, Romance of a Twin Flower, because it got rid of everything that made the novel such an addicting read, including a brilliant, strategic, ice cold FL and an ML who actually kind of sucked at the beginning, only to grow on you very, very slowly over time. I'm grateful that the chatter around the drama is what brought the novel to my attention, but other than that, hard pass.

Favorite Male Character: Lots of good ones this year, but I'm gonna go with Cang Xuan (Zhang Wan Yi) from Lost You Forever. The conflict he faces between getting enough power to protect the people he loves the most and that power making him incompatible with those loved ones is so compelling, and his yearning for Xiao Yao even when she's right in front of him is wrenching. Full disclosure, I also just really love the sound of his voice

Favorite Female Character: This could easily have gone to Li Susu (TTEOTM), Xiao Yao (LYF), or Ren Ruyi (AJTL), but I'm gonna go with Bai Lu's Xiang Xue Ning in The Story of Kunning Palace. Something I really loved about this character was just how jaded Xue Ning really was, even in her second go round at life. Yeah, she wants to make amends for the harm done in her previous rise to power, but that has hardly turned her into a good--or even pleasant--person. Instead, she's incredibly skeptical and still plays most things ice cold, especially with her family. As a bonus, we got plenty of Bai Lu's fantastic side eye as she basically had to do high school all over again when she gets called into the palace despite her very best efforts not to be.

Favorite Ship: Ren Ruyi and Yuan Zhao from A Journey to Love have got to be it. They balance each other out so well, and over the course of the drama, learn to communicate effectively with each other whenever they have a problem. They also recognize that not all problems can be solved by ~love~, which makes their relationship even more compelling when they decide to prioritize each other in a way that respects what the other wants from life.

Favorite Secondary Ship: Little princess Yang Ying and Yuan Lu absolutely broke stole my heart in A Journey to Love. Doomed love even more than the main OTP, these two's youthful romance was such much fun to watch, especially as they egged their respective mentors on in their own romance. Yang Ying's recognition that her first love did not have to be her only love is also something I always love to see, even as it broke my heart that (spoiler) she and Yuan Lu never really had a chance at an HEA. Their relationship really exemplified a key theme of this drama: that you should love the people you love while they're still with you because tomorrow is never promised.

Non-2023 Dramas that I Watched: Two non-2023 dramas I watched that deserve a special shout out are Love and Redemption and The Sword and the Brocade. Love and Redemption prepared me to really appreciate the big swings that Till the End of the Moon took, and The Sword and the Brocade went a little way to filling the Story of Ming Lan shaped hole in my heart. The Sword and the Brocade also had absolutely searing critique of the concubine system, even as it featured one of the most genuinely good-hearted FLs I've seen. Would recommend both!

Most Looking Forward To: Yes, I'm a sucker and the censors (not to mention the characters) will probably break my heart, but I'm still crossing my fingers that Lost You Forever S2 will live up to the promise of part one. See above: still a CDrama beginner, have not yet had all the optimism knocked out of me. Sue me.

#CDrama #year in review #Lost You Forever #A Journey to Love #The Story of Kunning Palace #My Journey to You #Hidden Love #Chang Feng Du #Destined CDrama #Till the End of the Moon #Love You Seven Times #Gone with the Rain #Ren Ruyi #Yang Ying #Yuan Lu #Bai Lu #Meta #CDrama Review

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robinsno1lesbian · 10 months

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omgg neighbour robin straddling you and grinding on you while she pins your hands behind your head 🫠

older!neighbor!robin x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1185

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ mature content (MDNI), implied age gap (reader is 18+), thigh riding, some praise every now and then, dirty talk, idk how to label it but robin holds reader down/restricts movements etc., implied choking?, 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: okay i'm SO tired but i really wanted to write something today, so have this little robin drabble, written by a sleep-deprived lesbian.

she sounds just as pretty as she looks, when she rolls her hips over the length of your thigh for the first time. for once, you're completely, utterly speechless. for someone who normally always has something to say or at least think, your mind is entirely blank. you're normally quite a pillow princess for robin, and when you do go down on her, she always tells you what to do and where to touch her. but, god, how you love it. so this, whatever it is, is new: the fact that for once she isn't touching you all over, roaming your body with her hands and fucking into your with at least two of her fingers. instead, robin is straddling your lap, with you laying on your back while she towers above you. just a second ago, she was kissing down your jaw with a hand wrapped around your throat. she was whispering sweet nothings, telling you how she couldn't wait to get a taste of you. now she has sat up though. it's a glorious sight really; she has stripped out of her shirt, leaving her in nothing but her boxer shorts and a bra, and her hair is falling down her shoulders loosely. you're in an equal state of getting undressed: your top has been thrown across the room earlier this night and you're in a matching set of underwear. and now robin is grinding down against your thigh. you freeze and your eyes widen when you notice the soft sensation; the creaking of the bed beneath you, her labored breathing, and finally the way her hips stutter against you. she has never done this before; you're usually the one to chase your release all over her. seeing the way she inhales sharply through her nose and the way her lips part in pleasure is so new to you. not that you're complaining though, because she looks so good.

"robin...?" you whisper through the thick silence that has fallen upon you. she hushes you with her raspy voice, signalizing you to be quiet while she is rutting against you. "sh" she rasps and puts her index over her lips for a moment, before her head drops back and she closes her eyes in concentration while she's panting. for a while, you lay there and watch her. your throat has gone completely dry after just a couple of seconds and your need to touch her grows the longer she rides you like this.

you partly get it now, even though you know she is still the one in control after all. but you understand why she loves it so much when you ride her thigh, why she is always either palming your breasts or guiding your hips. eventually, you can't hold it back any longer. you reach out and hold her hips, trying to support her the same way she likes to do it whenever you're the one grinding against her. but robin has other plans and that is when she snaps. she grabs both of your wrists and leans forward again, her upper body lingering over yours while she pins your hands over your head.

"i said don't" she hisses through gritted teeth. her harsh tone goes straight to your center and you whimper when she holds onto your arms. oh, how you love it when she gets like that. her eyes are fixated on yours and she gives you somewhat of a warning glare. "don't touch me" robin rasps "just be a good girl and let me use that pretty body of yours however i please, okay?" your lashes flutter. her words have your cunt clenching around nothing and you nod your head helplessly. it only gets better when she starts rolling up against you again, at a slow but steady pace. "say it" she orders, the words half a moan. "u-use me" you whine "god, please robin, use me" a smile creeps up her face regardless of her actions when she hears the words from you.

"good girl" she murmurs "so good for doing this, fuck, you look so fucking pretty too" robin keeps your wrists in her strong hand, pinning you against the bed while she picks up the pace again and grinds herself against you. you feel yourself growing wetter and wetter the longer she moves, each moan and groan that passes her lips coaxing a desperate whimper from you as well. you want to touch her, you really do, and it only gets harder as she continues. watching robin is not enough, you need to feel her, no matter how. but robin is relentless and she has made her point clear, even though you're certain that getting you this desperate had been her mission from the start. she doesn't want your touch, she just wants your body. the thought shouldn't turn you on like this. it shouldn't make you want her even more than you already are. her free hand comes to take your chin and turn her face so that you're staring up at her. her pupils are blown wide, taking over all the blue in her eyes and replacing it with dark lust. "look at me, pretty girl" the fact that her breaths are coming heavier than ever tells you that you're not the only one who is beyond turned on by this. "look at me and watch me cum" your eyes widen and you moan at her words, which earns you an airy chuckle from robin before she picks up her pace. her face lingers inches above your own and she doesn't break the eye contact when she starts riding you faster and harder than she has before, her clothed cunt running over your leg.

you can feel her wetness through the boxers and you can see it glistening too, in the dim light of the room.

the bed gives a loud creak underneath you at one particularly hard roll of her hips and you would love to be concerned for the furniture but then her orgasm rolls over her and everything else becomes irrelevant to you. your mouth hangs open when robin starts moaning, softly at first but the volume is increasing steadily until she's louder than you've ever heard. her grip tightens around your arm and she cries out in pleasure when she cums. the feeling of her cunt clenching against your thigh is simply just the cherry on the fucking top and you can't help but moan along as she rides it out on you. this might be a rare occasion but you'll never get tired of the way she looks when she orgasms. how her eyes fall shut tightly while her mouth opens and she lets the moans come out. eventually, her body goes slack and she drops forward against you, her face buried in your neck. robin's hands let go of your wrists and come down to hold your jaw when she starts peppering kisses all over it. "you did so good for me" she hums. "made me feel so fucking good, you deserve a reward for that, don't you think...?"

#robinsno1lesbian drabbles #older!neighbor!robin buckley #neighbor!robin buckley #older!robin buckley #older!neighbor!robin x reader #neighbor!robin x reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #ronin buckley smut fanfic #stranger things #stranger things au

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lost-in-beacon-hills · 5 months

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Rating Hunger Games ships (on personal preferance) I tried to find gifs but there's like none for most of them :(((

10. Katniss x Finnick

I'm sorry I know everyone loves Finnick x Annie but we saw very little of her and I think him and Katniss would have been such a fun pairing. I found myself wishing Finnick paid more attention to her. Although I do love their friendship. 8 out of 10

9. Peeta x Clove

I'm soft at the idea of them. It's like everlark in a different font. She's closed off and I just know that under the right circumstances he'd be in love with her. 9 out of 10

8. Johanna x Cashmere

Kinda crack ship but I want to write a fic for these two. Enemies to lovers meets hateful lesbians. I can't read Johanna as anything other than Lesbain Ace. Cashmere would definitely have a soft spot for her. 100 out of 10

7. Foxface x Thresh

I love the idea of it. She's cunning and he's strong. They would have made the cutest couple. Plus look at him, he's a cutie patootie. 10 out of 10

6. Cato x Clove

They were canon. Can't tell me I'm wrong because they just were. 10 out of 10

5. Glimmer x Clove

I love lesbian Glimmer. That girl loves girls and it makes me so happy. Plus I really like them just growing together. Imagine them as friends even. I need it. 50 out of 10

4. Brutus x Enobaria

Controversial I know. But despite the age gap they would be codependent and each other's other half. I love them so much. (I like to think they spend years together as mentors before even looking at each other. She's well into her 20s or 30s before they even date) 10 out of 10

3. Haymitch x Effie

They're the sweetest. Effie is a darling and Haymitch cherishes her. 9 out of 10

2. Katniss x Peeta

The book was fucking perfect and I will accept nothing less. I don't even need fanfic to read. The original story makes me that happy. It's perfect. 1000 out of 10

1. Cato x Katniss

I go feral for these bitches. The book scene really hammered it home for me. She was always talking about the boy from two. She notices him a lot. He dies because of her in a horrible way. I need them to get a good ending. Plus he deserved so much better. (And also I'm a huge Alexander Ludwig Stan. Sue me.) Infinity out of 10

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kallie-den · 1 month

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Marital Aid Ch. 1

Clea uses hypnosis to liberate her boss, Isabella, from a failing marriage… and awaken her to the life as a kinky lesbian

This story was a commission from one of my patrons! Thank you very much to Myles_EXVS for their kind support

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

---

“Clea?” The sound of Bruna’s voice brought Clea back to herself. “You’re supposed to be spotting for me, babe.”

“Right.” Clea shook her head, blushing a little. “Sorry.”

“Hold on.”

Bruna strained and groaned as she lifted the monstrously heavy bar up over her head and placed it back onto the rack. She sat up on the exercise bench, and Clea apologetically offered her a sweat towel to wipe her forehead off with. Clea was a little jealous of just how good her friend looked when she was working out; Bruna had the kind of muscular figure that made other girls drool, and her deep brown, Brazilian skin always glistened appealingly when she was flushed and sweating from exertion. Clea couldn’t relate.

“OK,” Bruna said, after taking a swig of water. “What’s on your mind? Out with it.”

Clea sighed and sat down on the bench next to her. Unfortunately, Bruna knew her too well. The two of them had been gym buddies for a long time, and friends for longer.

“It’s…” Clea didn’t know where to begin. It was far too embarrassing.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Bruna asked sympathetically.

“Yeah.” Clea planted her head in her hands. “Yeah. It is.”

She didn’t need to explain who ‘her’ was. They both knew.

Isabella.

“Oh, girl.” Bruna threw one of her big, strong arms across Clea’s shoulder. “You’re down seriously bad.”

Clea groaned and leaned in. She didn’t need Bruna to tell her that. Isabella consumed her every waking thought. The reason she’d been zoning out when she was supposed to be spotting for Bruna was because she’d been caught up in picturing Isabella’s smiling face. She’d reached schoolgirl levels of hopeless infatuation.

And there were two massive problems with it.

Firstly, Isabella was her boss. Clea was pretty sure that falling in love with the woman she worked for wasn’t part of a personal secretary’s job description. Workplace romances like that never worked out, and she was sure Isabella was too much of a stickler to ever consider it. There was also an accompanying age gap - Clea was in her mid-twenties while Isabella was in her thirties. That didn’t bother her so much, especially since Clea had such a fondness for older women, but it was yet another obstacle.

The second, much bigger problem was that Isabella was both straight and married.

“Falling for a straight girl.” Clea sighed again, heavier. “She’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I wish I could just forget about all these feelings and move on. It’s so hard, having to be near her, day after day, never being able to act on them.”

“I bet,” Bruna said soothingly. She reached up and started stroking Clea’s long, red hair.

“And the worst part is seeing that she’s not happy!” Clea vented. “Her pig of a husband makes her miserable, I can just tell. Why couldn’t it be me instead? I’d treat her the way she deserves. I’d treat her like a queen.”

“I know you would,” Bruna assured her. She paused for a moment and then turned to look closely at Clea, a cunning smile on her face. “You know, babe, you do have a way of making that happen.”

Clea threw a sharp look up at her. “I don’t even know if it works.”

“Oh, it works,” Bruna told her, grinning. “I was going to tell you afterward. I tested it very thoroughly. I have all the data you said you’d need to make the final calibrations.”

“Yeah, I bet you were thorough,” Clea snorted. “I heard a few rumors about what you’ve been up to with that heiress girl.”

“Now, now. I don’t kiss and tell.” Bruna’s grin took on a cocky, swaggering quality. Clea’s friend loved to kiss and tell. “Anyway, the point is: it’s amazing! I can’t believe my friend knows how to mind-control people. It’s like you’re a supervillain or something.”

At that, Clea laughed. “It’s just a hobby,” she retorted. “I’ve always liked audio mixing and video editing. It started with music videos, but then I got really curious about how different kinds of sounds and different frequencies can affect the human mind. And, uh, I guess one thing lead to another.”

The ‘another’, in this case, was a suite of software and a set of techniques that allowed her to create audio and video files that had a potent, hypnotic effect on the listener. Clea could almost literally reprogram them with whatever commands she chose - at least, within reason and with enough exposure. Clea objected to the idea that she was some kind of supervillain, but admittedly, the description wasn’t too far off.

“So,” Bruna pressed, “why not put all that work to good use?”

“You mean… with Isabella?” Clea frowned. “No. In fact, I don’t even want that experimental data. I don’t want to think about it.”

"Why not? Just think about it! No more yearning, no more heartache. You could have her.”

Clea felt a definite, stirring pang, but looked away. “It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is,” Bruna countered.

“I-it wouldn’t be right.”

“From what you said about her husband, it sounds like she’d be happier with you,” Bruna pointed out. “Why not think of it as giving her a little push towards a happy ending? You can’t tell me that’s not part of what this was all for. The testing. Your little hobby.”

“It just…” Clea stood up, shrugging off Bruna’s arm, and started to pace. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t feel right. Not with her.”

“Why not?” Bruna asked again, a touch exasperated.

“Because I care about her, Bruna,” Clea replied. “She’s not just a pretty girl I’m looking to get into bed. It’s more than that. I want her to be happy.”

“You could make her happy,” Bruna pointed out. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“Maybe she’s happy right now,” Clea shot back. “Maybe that’s why she’s still with him. I don’t know. That’s the point. I can’t just decide that for her. What if I’m wrong? What if I make it worse?”

“Wow, babe,” Bruna said, raising an eyebrow. “You really are down bad.”

Clea sank back down miserably onto the bench. “Yeah. I know.”

Bruna squeezed her shoulder. “Well, here’s what we’re gonna do,” she said. “We’re going to keep working out until you’re so exhausted you can barely think. Then we’re gonna go back to my bar and get drunk until you definitely can’t think. Sound good?”

“God yes,” Clea sighed.

“Atta girl.” Clea stood up, allowing Bruna to lie back down along the exercise bench, and rest her hands back on the barbell. As she did, she threw Clea one last look. “But just remember: you ever change your mind, and the data’s yours. Just give me a call.”

***

The next evening, Clea’s head was still throbbing from the hangover. Bruna drank hard, and her bar was well-stocked. The headache was a welcome pain. A welcome distraction. To take her mind off of it, and off of everything else, she was preparing a nice, big pot of stew. It would take the edge off her hangover, and give her some welcome nourishment for the week to come. The stew was still simmering on her stovetop, however, when Clea found herself much, much more distracted by a message she’d just received.

Can I come over?

It was from Isabella.

Clea’s boss, the woman she was hopelessly head-over-heels for, had just texted her on a Sunday evening to ask to come over to her apartment. Maybe she should have replied with ‘no’, or ‘I’m busy, sorry’. Maybe she should even have left her on read. There were reasons to. Refusing would have helped maintain professional boundaries, and would have helped Clea stop torturing herself about a doomed romance.

Instead, she had replied ‘yes’ right away.

And now, as she waited for Isabella to arrive, Clea was left with nothing to do but watch her stew simmer and wonder about what, exactly, had happened. She and Isabella had a friendly and warm relationship at work, to be sure. Sometimes they even confided in one another a little - that was how Clea had caught a hint of her marital issues. But suddenly dropping in to visit Clea at her apartment? That was completely unprecedented.

Clea desperately wanted to know why. But with Isabella already on her way, there was nothing for her to do except keep pacing back and forward across her kitchen restlessly, wondering, trying to stop herself from giving in to needless speculation or fruitless hope. Occasionally, she couldn’t help dashing over to the mirror in her bathroom to make sure that she looked presentable. Part of her wanted to put on some makeup, but the knowledge that she’d look like she’d gotten all dolled up on a Sunday night just to stay home and cook held her back.

Eventually, mercifully, the buzzer for her apartment rang.

Clea rushed down and opened the door as quickly as she could, and let out a mourning gasp when she laid eyes on her boss.

Isabella had been crying. That much was obvious from the way her eyes were red from tears and wide with worry. It pained Clea to see her beauty marred by such sadness. She was still beautiful, though. Clea was struck by that every single time she saw her boss.

Isabella Chase was aging more than gracefully into her thirties. Put simply, she had a figure to die for, and looked just as killer in the t-shirt and jeans she was currently wearing as she did in the smart, well-tailored business wear Clea was used to seeing on her. She had a slender, pretty face, with high, arched, sharp cheekbones that somehow became rounded and full when she laughed and smiled, lighting up her whole face. Her short, black, shoulder-length hair framed her features perfectly, and her tanned, brown skin took on a thousand tones in a different light. Clea never got tired of looking at her. She just hoped her boss hadn’t noticed the way she stared. Especially since Isabella did know that Clea was a lesbian.

“Hey,” Clea said awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

As soon as she saw Clea, Isabella sagged. “I’m sorry,” she said heavily. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“What? No!” Clea replied urgently. “Don’t say that. You’re more than welcome.”

Isabella just sniffled and shook her head miserably. “It’s not appropriate. I’m your boss. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Just come in.” Clea reached out and touched Isabella on the shoulder, lightly. “Please?”

Isabella nodded, just as miserably, but allowed Clea to guide her inside and upstairs into her apartment. Once there, Clea immediately set to fussing over her boss. She got her seated comfortably on the couch, and then went to make tea for the both of them. When she returned, two steaming mugs in hand, she sat down next to Isabella. A worried frown was carving lines into her face.

“I shouldn’t have come,” Isabella repeated, although she seemed more settled than before. “I’m your boss. You put up with me enough at work.”

“Nonsense,” Clea told her firmly. “You put up with me just as much. We can call it even.”

That made Isabella smile, which made Clea smile.

“I just didn’t know where else to go, I suppose,” Isabella explained apologetically, sipping tentatively at her tea. “I guess I didn’t really want my friends to see me like this. So I just started driving around, and then I was in the neighborhood, and I remembered your address, and… well, you’re just so easy to talk to, at work. So I just…”

“I’m glad you did,” Clea said. “Really. It’s not an imposition. But you do have to tell me what’s going on. That’s the only condition.”

Isabella laughed, sniffled again, and nodded. “Well, it’s… it’s him. Again. Robert. My husband.”

A furious shiver raced down Clea’s spine. It was just as she’d suspected. Her husband was the only thing she’d ever seen get anything close to this far under Isabella’s skin.

“What did he do now?” Clea’s voice approached a growl.

“He didn’t…” Isabella started to say in instinctive defensiveness, before sagging again. “It’s not like that, exactly. We just had another fight.”

“I see,” Clea said tersely.

“I want kids,” Isabella said. Now that she was unburdening herself, it came out easy. She wasn’t looking at the expression on Clea’s face. “I want a family. I do. And I thought he wanted that too. I mean, we always said… but now I don’t know. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he gets so…”

Clea worried for all the unspoken things she could hear in Isabella’s voice. “Do you mean…”

“No,” Isabella told her. “Not like that. But he gets so closed off about it. So short-tempered. It’s like… it’s like me, and what I want, are just annoyances to him. You know?”

“Yeah.” Clea had to fight not to grind her teeth. “I know what you mean.”

“It’s at the point where I just don’t know what to do,” Isabella went on. “I just assumed we’d work on it, over time, together, but it’s starting to seem like it isn’t going to get better. I don’t know what to do anymore. Today, when I tried to talk to him, we ended up arguing. And when he started yelling at me, I just… I had to get out of there, Clea.”

“Get out of there?” Hope, tinged by guilt, started to swell in Clea’s bosom. “Like-”

“I mean, how am I supposed to go back to him now, after running out like that?” The words kept flowing out of Isabella. She was starting to tear up again. “Sometimes I feel like I just can’t take it anymore.”

Clea paused for a long moment to gather her courage before saying: “Maybe… you don’t have to. Go back, I mean.”

Isabella looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re better than him, Isabella!” Clea cried. “It’s obvious. He doesn’t deserve you. You’re amazing. You’re beautiful, you’re kind, you work hard and support yourself and others. If you want a family, you deserve one. You deserve someone who wants to have that with you.”

Her boss let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob. “That’s… a nice thought, Clea.”

“I’m serious!” Clea insisted fiercely. “I know it’s a cliche, but there are so many other people out there who could make you happy. You shouldn’t have to devote your life to someone who doesn’t even care enough to talk to you about what you want!”

“It’s not that easy.” Isabella seemed to tense up. “I can’t just walk out on him like that.”

“Why not?” Clea couldn’t bring herself to hold back now. “You don’t need him, Isabella. And you said so yourself - it seems like it isn’t going to get better. So what are you staying with him for?”

“I… I guess I don’t really have a good answer to that,” Isabella admitted. “But I do know one thing. I’m not a quitter. That’s how I’ve made it this far, right?”

“Isabella…” Clea slumped back against the couch cushion, defeated. She could hear the resolve in her boss’s voice, and she recognized all too well the kind of self-defeating logic Isabella was trapping herself in.

“Maybe it’s a little silly,” Isabella said, smiling sadly to herself. “But I really meant all those things I said at the altar. The promises. In sickness and in health, stuff like that. I… I know you mean well, Clea. I just think I need to see this through properly.”

There was nothing for Clea to do but look down and sigh. “I understand,” she said, even though she didn’t.

It took all the strength she had not to blurt out that it should have been her. That she was the one who could make Isabella happy that way. That she would be overjoyed to give Isabella the family her husband wouldn’t.

But of course, her words would have fallen on deaf ears. Isabella was straight, and that was that.

Before Clea knew it, the two of them had lapsed into uncomfortable silence. The only sound in the apartment was the occasional noise of each of them sipping at their tea. Clea knew she had to fix it.

“Hey,” she said abruptly, planting as bright a smile as she could muster on her face. “Well, if you want to stay here, just for tonight, you’d be more than welcome. I mean it. We can have a girls’ night. This couch folds out, and it’s actually not as bad as it-“

The sound of Isabella’s phone lighting up with a text message interrupted her.

Her boss snatched at her phone like a drowning woman at a life ring. The expression of manic, desperate hope on her face as she read the message tore Clea’s heart in two, and immeasurable dread washed over her. She knew exactly what was happening.

“Thank you,” Isabella said to Clea, already gathering herself. “That’s such a kind offer. B-but I need to go now, actually.” She gestured to her phone. “He’s worried about me, and he wants to talk.”

She was smiling as she said it, although Clea knew even Isabella didn’t really believe in whatever platitudes her husband was offering. She was just forcing herself to, because it was the only way she could keep going. Isabella’s smile was as fragile as glass, and Clea couldn’t bring herself to be the one that broke it.

“Sure.” Clea desperately hoped her own smile didn’t look too fake or forced. “Of course. I understand. And, anytime. I promise.”

She walked Isabella out of the building and the two of them said their goodbyes. But the whole time, Clea could only think about how disgustingly false this all was. She’d met Isabella’s husband two or three times, at various work-related social functions. She knew what a boor he was. She knew he wasn’t going to change. But, clearly, he was willing to keep stringing Isabella along with false hope and false kindnesses until it ground her into dust.

Dwelling on it left a pit of nausea in Clea’s stomach. It wasn’t right. She couldn’t let this happen. Not to Isabella.

And there was something she could do about it.

Once Clea got back up to her apartment, she reached for her phone and messaged Bruna.

I need the data.

***

The next morning, it took Clea quite some time to gather her courage before she could bring herself to head into Isabella’s office and bring her boss her morning coffee. Her anxiety was twofold. First, she was afraid that the atmosphere between them would be heavy with the weight of what had happened the day before; with Isabella’s unexpected vulnerability, and Clea’s unwelcome advice. And second, she was afraid that Isabella would see how nervous she was, and somehow sense what she was about to do.

Her first fear, at least, was dispelled from the first moment she knocked and pushed open the door. Isabella was already behind her desk, hard at work, but she rose to greet Clea with a broad grin.

“Clea! Good morning,” she gushed. “Oh, is that my latte? I seriously need it.”

“Of course,” Clea replied. “Same as ever.”

She placed the cup holder on Isabella’s desk, but she must have seemed a touch awkward because Isabella quickly reached out for her hand.

“Hey, um,” Isabella began, “I wanted to say, about yesterday… I’m sorry. Not for turning up - you made it clear that you were happy to help, and I appreciate that a lot. You’re amazing, honestly. The best secretary I could ever ask for.”

Clea’s cheeks started to burn and glow from the praise.

“Instead, I’m sorry for putting you square in the middle of my marital, uh, issues,” Isabella said. “I’m sure that was really, really awkward.”

“No,” Clea replied. “Um, actually, I’m glad you felt like you could confide in me. And… actually, I’m sorry too. I went way too far.”

“Nonsense,” Isabella told her firmly, smiling. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. To be honest, the advice you gave is exactly what I’d probably give to any of my friends if they were in the same position.”

That acknowledgment brought forth another heavy sigh that piqued Clea’s curiosity.

“May… I ask how it went?” Clea ventured cautiously.

“Good.” Isabella nodded firmly. “At least, I think it was good. We talked, and maybe we didn’t fix our problems yet, but we’re going to keep talking. What more can you ask for, right?”

She was trying to sound brave and sure, and it almost worked. Almost. But Clea knew her boss better than most. Better than her own husband, she’d guess. She saw Isabella every single day at work, and she knew when she was merely putting a brave face on something.

Looking deeper, Clea could see the signs. Under her eyes, she was using a little too much makeup to try and conceal some dark circles. Her eyes themselves were still tinged red. Her hair was a little messier and less lustrous than usual; probably, she’d gone to bed without doing her routine. And, most tellingly of all, her shoulders were sagged slightly in exhaustion and defeat, the way they only usually were on a Friday evening after a truly hellish week.

She wasn’t OK. It hadn’t been good. And that meant there was no reason at all for Clea to hold back.

“Well,” Clea began, “I was thinking, last night. And I have something that I think might help you a little.”

Isabella’s head tilted dubiously.

“Not with the, uh, issues,” Clea added hastily. “Just with how it all feels. It’s something for self-care.”

“Oh!” Isabella brightened immediately. “Clea, that’s so thoughtful.”

Clea had to look away for a moment. “Don’t mention it.”

“So?” Isabella asked eagerly. “What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense!”

Clea swallowed anxiously. This was it.

“This might sound a little weird,” she said, “but I have these… experimental music videos. They’re meant to help you relax. Think of it like… like meditation. Making them is kind of a hobby of mine, actually. I know it’s a little silly, but some people have said they’re really helpful. So, I made one for you.”

She blushed as she said that. Even the half-truth was embarrassing. Isabella, though, looked overjoyed.

“You did?” she exclaimed. “Oh my god, Clea! Thank you, that’s so thoughtful.”

Clea blushed again. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Of course I do,” Isabella replied. “I’ve never really tried meditation before, but you’re certainly right to think that I could use something to help me relax a little. I’d love to give it a try.”

“Great!” Clea’s relief was immeasurable, and she found herself grinning from ear to ear. She whipped out her phone. “I’ll send you the video right away. You can just listen to it whenever you have a quiet moment. Just… make sure to grab some headphones. And, uh, make sure you won’t be disturbed.”

“Got it!” To Clea’s great surprise, Isabella pulled her into a brief but warm hug. “Clea, you deserve a raise. I can’t tell you how much this means to me. Things have been so hard lately. It’s truly…”

“Hey.” Clea squeezed Isabella tight as her boss trailed off. “I know. But, Isabella, I can promise you that things are going to get much, much better for you very soon. I can just feel it.”

Once the two of them pulled apart, Isabella’s eyes were glistening.

“Thank you,” she said. “The way you said that almost makes me believe it.”

Clea and Isabella shared a laugh before Isabella went to sit back down at her desk. Clea took that as her cue.

“Let me know if you need anything,” she said, retreating out of her boss’s office. “I’ve got your first call for the day lined up in about twenty minutes.”

With that, each of them returned to the humdrum of a normal workday - but the whole time, Clea was burning with anticipation as she thought about what was going to happen once Isabella finally sat down to listen to what Clea had sent her.

***

The sun was getting low in the sky by the time Isabella’s thoughts turned back to Clea’s gift. It had been a long, busy day of work, with no chance for her to take time out to meditate. But now, the office was quiet. Everyone had gone home - even Clea, who seemed to have been lingering for some reason. Isabella figured she was probably worried about her. Clea was such a sweet girl that way.

Isabella really couldn’t blame her for being worried. Not after the way she’d fled to Clea’s apartment the day before. Just thinking about it was still incredibly embarrassing. Clea had been very kind about it, but Isabella was sure her secretary didn’t genuinely want to spend her weekends dealing with her boss’s personal problems.

Hopefully, earlier, when she’d told Clea that things were looking up, she’d sounded convincing enough to put the younger woman at ease.

The truth was… more complicated.

And that, regrettably, was part of why Isabella was staying late at work. It was the perfect excuse to spend a little less time at home.

Isabella sighed to herself. Admitting that, even in her own head, felt humiliating. Where had it all gone so wrong? When she had gotten married, she’d assumed that would be her happy ending. Having kids seemed like the natural next step - they’d even talked about it, briefly, a few times. Now, Robert got mad every time she brought it up. It was like he’d never wanted a family at all.

Another sigh. These thoughts were doing nothing but making Isabella upset again. They certainly weren’t helping her to get any work done, and the only thing worse than staying at the office to work overtime was staying at the office to do nothing except cry.

Which was why Isabella’s thoughts had turned to that relaxation music video Clea had made for her.

What better time to try it than now?

Isabella took a moment to dim the lights and close the blinds on the windows before sitting back in her office chair and pulling up the video file Clea had sent to her. The first frame looked like nothing but an indistinct mess of colors, and Isabella found herself a little skeptical that a simple music video would be able to offer everything Clea had promised. But, determined to give it a proper try, she took a series of long, deep breaths after putting in her earbuds.

“OK, here goes,” she said to herself, and pressed ‘play’.

Immediately, the screen in front of her exploded into dizzying patterns of motion that made Isabella gasp. There was such depth, vividness and beauty to the colors. It immediately drew Isabella in and captivated her, making her eyes pull wide open in an instinctive bid to drink in everything that was on the screen of her computer.

It was so overwhelming, she barely even noticed the sound playing through her earbuds.

It was music, but unlike any other Isabella had heard, and she only considered it to be music at all because of the vaguely harmonic quality of all the strange beats and tones playing in her ears. All of them were low and resonant; she felt them through her whole body, and underneath them was something like whispering, perhaps a voice, perhaps not. Whatever it was, Isabella found herself unable to bring it into focus.

Instead, all of her attention was on the screen. The true pattern formed by the colors was starting to unfold. At first, she thought it was a spiral, pulling inward, but she soon realized it was pushing outward instead, kaleidoscopic, like an ever-unfurling flower, revealing more of itself with each passing moment. Every new color that appeared at the center of the screen was a revelation, but then the whole image would turn, revealing more of itself yet again, along dizzying lines of symmetry.

Isabella couldn’t look away. Not even when her eyes started to ache from staring. She just slumped back into her seat and started to drool. She had been instantly hypnotized.

The music was getting louder, but Isabella didn’t stir, not even when lyrics started to appear inside her head. Not lyrics; mantras. Simple, blunt statements of fact that Isabella couldn’t seem to bring herself to question. They came one after another, layering atop one another, hammering themselves into her head until they felt like her own thoughts, no matter how strange and foreign they were.

They were true. She knew that. She just knew.

You are a lesbian, Isabella.

It was a hard thing to accept. Isabella had never once thought of herself as anything other than straight. She was even married to a man. So… how hadn’t she noticed it sooner? It seemed so hard to square away, and yet she knew she had to.

You don’t like men.

Isabella stirred. That didn’t seem right. She liked her husband, didn’t she? That was why she’d married him. She loved him… or so she’d thought. But she was a lesbian, so that didn’t make sense. And since she was a lesbian, it seemed only natural that she didn’t like men. Isabella reflected on how she’d felt about her husband in recent days. It hadn’t been positive.

Of course. She was a lesbian, and she didn’t like men.

You cannot orgasm with men.

Isabella blushed faintly, but settled. As unfamiliar as that thought was, it seemed to fit. She was a lesbian, and she didn’t like men. It made perfect sense that she couldn’t orgasm with men.

Her recent experiences with her husband certainly bore that out, too.

You can only orgasm with women.

Each new mantra, each new truth, was getting easier and easier to accept. They intersected and interlinked, mutually reinforcing one another, forming a net wrapped tight around Isabella’s mind.

Forming a new self. A new identity.

You are attracted to Clea.

Isabella gasped. Clea? She’d never once looked at her secretary in that light. It would be completely and totally unprofessional of her.

And yet…

Now that the thought had crossed her mind, she couldn’t un-think it. Clea was pretty. There was certainly no denying that. She had a lovely figure, and such cute freckles, and her long, gorgeous, red hair was so striking. Anyone would call her attractive.

But Isabella wasn’t just anyone. She was a lesbian. She could only cum with women. So, naturally, it meant more to her. It wasn’t just about acknowledging Clea’s attractiveness. It was about feeling it.

Isabella was definitely attracted to Clea.

You are very attracted to Clea.

The intensity of her newly-discovered attraction more than doubled with the repetition. Suddenly, just thinking about her secretary made Isabella squirm in her chair and sent a thrill-shock of pleasure between her legs. She couldn’t believe an attraction this potent had crept up on her, but maybe it wasn’t surprising, if her lesbianism had too.

It was all but unbearable. How was she going to handle seeing Clea tomorrow? How was she going to not blush and stammer every time she looked at her? The worst part was that Clea was a lesbian too. That made the temptation so much more real.

You can’t resist Clea.

All thoughts of self-control immediately dissolved. Isabella was being washed away by the strength of her new feelings. She couldn’t resist Clea. That thought seemed so sinful. She was Clea’s boss. A level of self-discipline and restraint was absolutely essential in the workplace, but Isabella was starting to doubt she was capable of it.

What did that say about her? What kind of woman was she, to be so hopelessly, irresistibly infatuated by a girl subordinate to her, a girl so much younger than her? It was a shameful thought, but the shame was swept up in her attraction and arousal.

A picture of the new Isabella was starting to emerge. She was a lesbian, she was sexually unsatisfied with her husband, and she was desperately obsessed with her own secretary, Clea Samaras.

The longer she stared at the hypnotic images blaring on her screen, the stronger and stronger Isabella’s new sense of identity became. And there was nothing she could do about it. With her eyes wide, all she could do was sit back, stare, and drool, as the mantra began to repeat over, and over, and over again.

You are a lesbian.

You don’t like men.

You cannot orgasm with men.

You can only orgasm with women.

You are attracted to Clea.

You can’t resist Clea.

You are a lesbian…

---

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#story #Marital Aid

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