Tumgik
#the things i really wanna see i wrote in my fic
dhmis-autism · 8 months
Text
SORRY. JUST REALIZED I ORIGINALLY SKETCHED THE STUFF FROM THAT LAST WIP POST IN. MARCH.
GODDDD...
Tumblr media
#I GUESS MY WRIST FUCKING UP PUT ME FURTHER BACK THAN I THOUGHT#but also like. i was JUST talking about it in chat. i have a comic about the Three Of Them that i wrote in a frenzy in FEBUARY.#by the time i rewrote the dialogue and figured out the ending it was SEVEN FUCKING PAGES. SOLID.#OF JUST SCRIPT.#I STILL HAVENT EVEN FINISHED SKETCHING IT. YOU GUYS ARE NOT SEEING THAT SHIT UNTIL 2024#sometimes an idea of them will grasp me and i will just write the script out in the middle of the night#I realistically. dont even know if you guys are gonna like my scripted stuff.#the first scripted thing i wrote was a yellow&duck comic that im STILL SKETCHING BACKGROUNDS ON#i could be really bad at writing for them. i could totally not get them at all.#but hey!#we'll see when we see I guess#BUT YEAH UH. SORRY FOR LITERALLY ALL I POST BEING WIPS NOWADAYS I AM JUST WORKING ON LIKE 5 DIFFERENT DRAWINGS AT ONCE#STILL TRYING TO GET MY SPRING STUFF DONE. AND ITS ALMOST FALL. SO :]#I JUST CARE SO MUCH ABT THOSE PUPPETS DAWG I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS FOR THEM#I HAVE!!! EVEN MORE DRAWINGS THAT I JUST HAVENT SHARED!!! bc i either made them for something real specific in the discord#or bc theyre phone doodles and i dont think theyre that great. or bc i made them just for a friend and thats like. theirs now kjdhkjdfhs#a lotta times once i finish drawing smth for a friend ill just never post it bft. so its just like. for that one thing and nothing else#ANYWAYS HAPPY 3 AM IM FORCING MYSELF TO GO TO BED#AND I STILL HAVE THE ANIMATIONS#AND THE FANART FOR LIKE 5 FICS I WANNA DO#OHHH GOD CMONNN BRO IM NEVER FINISHING ANYTHING#my postings
26 notes · View notes
gorechoi-backup · 1 year
Text
in regards to this post i could finally contact tumblr and they said there’s no way they can restore the account nor the posts i had, which means i’ve lost basically all my works in there so if any of you have reblogged at least one chapter of one of my fanfics i’d appreciate it if you could send me the link so i can try and pull together a masterlist on my new account since i created this one only as backup.
i’m really sorry to bother but i’ve lost basically everything and need to start from scratch so i’d appreciate the help so so much!
the new account is @choinsaw i hope to see you there ♡
52 notes · View notes
yardsards · 2 years
Text
you've heard of being "touch starved", now get ready for "touch hangry"
#eliot posts#touch starved#i was rereading through some of my old fics and#the plot of one is basically a character being touch hangry#i'd say i get touch hangry but not really. i don't actually get angry about it but i DO get a strong urge to playfight#anyway my consensus upon rereading my fics is:#all three of my infinity train fics are actually pretty good#'from things that accidentally touch' is prolly the best one?#but i'm actually liking 'you can run away with me anytime you want' a lot rn bc i really dig the qpr vibes i established there#i was dissatisfied with 'and the moon's never seen me before' when i wrote it but i actually really like it now. made me smile.#i don't really like either of my toh fics very much#i like the concept of 'interlacing' and AM gonna finish it up but i hate how i wrote most of it#'the beach episode' has some good bits but i dislike a lot of it. it was the first thing i'd written in YEARS and it shows#kinda hate that it's my most popular fic cuz it's my least favourite#but people enjoying it so much did encourage me to practice writing some more i think?#i don't regret writing it. i think i needed the practice and writing my first fic since like eighth grade was nice#sidenote i WISH eighth grade eliot didn't delete their fic out of shame. i wanna read it.#anyway i think i wanna post the last chapter of tbe eventually. i think it's half written somewhere#it's my least fav fic and a bunch of my headcanons got disproven but i think it deserves to be finished#i have a couple readers who still wanna see the ending despite it being years and it just being a slice of life fic so no cliffhangers#('from things that accidentally touch' is my touch hangry fic)#that fic originally had my highest kudos to hits ratio but now it has the lowest ratio of any of my single chapter fics#and i know it is because people have been rereading it since then for comfort and that makes me really happy
56 notes · View notes
prouvaireafterdark · 2 years
Text
Six Sentence Sunday: Loustat Edition
been consumed by Loustat brainrot lately, so here’s a snippet of what I’m working on rn
(set right after Louis is turned in the AMC ‘verse, if that matters)
***
Louis gasped in surprise as he was crowded up against the brick wall behind him and Lestat caught the sound with his mouth. Louis melted against him with a soft groan, Lestat’s kiss overwhelming him like never before. His mouth felt more sensitive now, every brush of Lestat’s lips a revelation, and pressed this close he could hear the beating of Lestat’s heart, feel the blood rushing beneath his palms as he cupped the sides of his neck to pull him closer. 
It ignited within him a lust unlike any he’d ever experienced, and before he even realized what he was doing his mouth had slipped from Lestat’s lips to the hinge of his jaw before finally dipping down to latch onto his throat. His fledgling fangs ached as his mouth opened over his maker’s thundering pulse, and Louis was helpless in the face of such powerful instinct.
Lestat moaned, loud and unabashed, as Louis finally sank his teeth into his neck, his right hand flying up to cradle the back of Louis’ skull. 
49 notes · View notes
applsidra · 5 months
Text
It's torture labyrinth Friday! The "we gotta get tortured for eternity" friday.
#aniki keeps on sending me biden blast pictures whats going on???#i havnt touched anything guilty gear game in ages#i lit finished xrd sign story months ago and am like okay thats it good enough ill see u in a year#so elphelts just perpetually stuck in that bubble until i get off my lazy ass and play rev#elphelt is my favorite character she da best#i made a kyu kuruin music video 4 her before her emotion stuff was revealed i am so smart and good at prediciting things#like the sol and ky and sin and whatever main cast is good but like i dont think or have strong emotion towards them that much????#love em when i see them dont think about them at all when i dont#elphelt though shes da best i have her figure on my nightstand#like solky is nice but honestly i like the fics better than any fanart or doujinshi#pictures to look at beacuse its hot yaoi but the FICS hoooo mama#thats where the real romance and dynamics are at THAT SHIT SO GOOD MMMMMM#shame nobody writes them anymore i would commission someone but i dont think anybody can recreate the dynamic rama doremu and aphelion wrote#anyway i really like emotionally empty characters they r so nice#elphelt zenos valentine and those ai pods#zenos is top of that list i miss my mans what a fuckin dude#bite down on my jugular to feel the warmth fill your mouth and run over as you drink deep Good good This is the beast I have longed to face#haha so true zenos r u free later ahahaha u wanna fight haha lets go to garlamald toegther and punch ur gramps in the nuts#i was emetwol out of obligation but i would have been zenoswol if he got to me first#I MiSS U ZENOS STORMBLOOD AND ENDWALKER DID U DIRTY I WOULD GLADLY FIGHT U FOR ALL ETERNITY#man i miss caine zenos dynamic I MISS CAINE WHERE IS MY GIRL AAAAA#my precious wol.... the best wol.... the best dragoon youll never see....#skipping animation class to go to the mall fuck that class#i animated sonic dub eggman i miss my wife tails and i dont fucking care enough to be there for the critique#IM IN THE GODDAMN ILLUSTRATION PROGRAM WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING SHOVING ME INTO HAND ANIMATION#this college is so shit im going to go study ornithology after i graduate this shit so poopoo dumb#music of da week is squall goes to the water isle#thought of the week is if i offer to pay off chinas national debt for the great wall of china would they accept and would they try to kill#me right after#yaku txt
5 notes · View notes
neomachine · 6 months
Text
thinking neo and trinity are one of the very, very few enjoyable m/f couples in fiction to me then reconsidering my position when i remember trinity was absolutely Gender Of Masculine Experience in matrix 4
5 notes · View notes
ickypuppi3 · 1 year
Note
Hey, I need a full, like, 30k+ fic of nasty!Steve. Please and thank you. I will send all my love and money.
It's Steve being an ass out of fear and Billy not caring too much to start with because he's just enjoying the tease of him. And then Steve being an ass because he enjoys the power, he sees Billy wanting it more and he starts to enjoy it more with less fear but he still needs to feel a control so he's a little cruel, baits him and toys with him. And Billy starting to feel it but still not wanting to give this up, goes along with it.
And then maybe eventually he draws a line and Steve gets angry and fearful and mean, maybe messes with another guy in a way so that Billy finds out to make him jealous or finds out Billy is messing around with someone else and he starts trying to take them away, but when it pushes Billy further and he gets cold with Steve, he realises he's just hurt and starts to crawl back a little sweeter when he realises he misses Billy and not just what they were doing.
Or maybe Steve just realises he wants to hang out with Billy and not always be doing something, just be around him, talking and laughing and just leaning against him whilst they smoke or watch tv, with no other agenda. And it's difficult and he missteps a lot but they get there and he realises all the shit he done to Billy and starts trying to make up for it, being kinder and sweeter and caring and the way hes been with other partners before, and Billy is overwhelmed with getting what he wanted deep down. Maybe it's hard to navigate and he doesn't react well, scared to give in to it just for Steve to return to that cruel way before? But Steve doesn't. He deals with his issues and communicates more, cares openly with Billy. And Billy starts to learn to believe in his own self-worth and when he struggles, Steve makes sure to help him know it. And they actually start being happy.
I just love what you've done and how you write it, but i hate how it's consumed me and its the only type of relationship I wanna read right now.
I'll live for any little mentions of your nasty!Steve though. Thank you ❤️
genuinely so surprised that people like this whole asshole steve thing ?? but i’m living for it because SAME it’s all i can think about rn.. literal brain rot over over this
and god i love all of this !! it hurts so bad and i love it </3
i kinda don’t consider myself ‘a fic writer’ i’m ngl & i only really post stuff on here rn (apart from like two fics on ao3 that i’m not willing to discuss /hj) & idk if i could promise a whole fic to be completely honest because my brain simply does not work properly & i have the attention span/memory capacity of a goldfish (no joke)
however !! if i do write something longer then i’ll keep this in mind !! i do still have another ask(s ?) to answer about the sad boys dynamic so there’ll be more of me talking about them anyway dw
& my ask box is always open for prompts, suggestions etc etc i love it all (even if i do take ten years to answer i’m sorry) so !! yeah <3
Tumblr media
how i look when i think about this dynamic btw just for a visual - it feels fitting
16 notes · View notes
violentbats · 2 years
Text
how many unfinished fics do u have and when is the last updated
2 notes · View notes
cuz-reasons · 11 months
Text
Yall aren't even ready for the dumbest (affectionate) fic I've ever written
0 notes
daydadahlias · 1 year
Note
I mean, I know this is a long shot but have you thought about adding more fics to the “ask for more” series? I truly love those fics
I’m definitely not opposed to it, but I just don’t know what I would add! All the angst has been pretty resolved so I can’t think of what plot it would have other than just porn.
0 notes
strang3lov3 · 10 days
Text
Chevelle
Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)
Tumblr media
Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.
A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.
Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.
Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷
It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 
Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.
Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 
-
You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.
You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 
You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 
You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.
The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 
“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 
You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.
You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.
-
In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 
When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.
What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 
-
The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”
“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”
“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”
Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 
“Thank you,” you whisper. 
Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 
You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.
“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”
“Mm,” you hum.
“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 
“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”
“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 
Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”
Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.
“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”
“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 
Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”
“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 
Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 
The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”
“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 
 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”
You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”
Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 
“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”
“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”
“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”
“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”
Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 
He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”
You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”
“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 
Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 
You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”
You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.
 “Is that it?” 
“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”
His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”
Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 
You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 
“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.
Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 
He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”
You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.
What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”
“My turn?”
“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 
“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 
Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.
He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”
The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 
You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 
“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”
Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”
His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 
“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 
“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 
Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.
From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”
“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 
“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”
You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 
“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”
You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”
“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”
It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”
Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”
You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.
“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.
He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 
Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 
You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 
“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”
Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.
Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 
His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.
With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 
Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”
“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 
 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”
“You want me…”
“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.
He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”
If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻
2K notes · View notes
bysaber · 7 months
Text
weeping dragon
Tumblr media
pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader
summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.
content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending
wc: 800
a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol
Tumblr media
Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.
He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?
You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.
A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.
“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”
You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.
“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.
The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”
It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?
Something you wanted to hold?
“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”
Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.
Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”
And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.
“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.
“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”
Worried.
She is worried.
The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.
“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.
I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.
Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.
“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”
Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.
“Neuv—”
“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.
The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.
“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”
And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
atticrissfinch · 1 month
Text
I’ve Got My Red Dress on Tonight | (joel miller x fem!reader) (18+)
Part 5 of Meet Me in the Back
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When your Valentine's Day date doesn't show, you decide there's one person who would be happy to see you. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), drug use (marijuana), daddy!kink, fingering (vaginal and....anal!!!), v brief foot fetish, squirting, praise!kink and degradation!kink (use of slut/whore), unprotected PIV, creampie, some ~touching in public, smoking, taking pictures mid-coitus, really nasty gross fluff i'm sorry about it. lemme know if i forgot something i gotta go fast i wanna post word count: ~7.8k jesus christ | ao3a/n: much thanks for the anon who suggested a V Day fic for these two <3 Thank you to my love Iris @papipascalispunk for making sure my commas and em-dashes are where they're supposed to be. ALSO. Chloe, resident sleazy!joel expert, wrote a little drabble inspired by Joel in this fic!! Please check it out after you've read this chapter! The Sighting by ChloeAngelic <3 Divider by @saradika-graphics ❤️ Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic! Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi
Tumblr media
The dress feels ungodly tight, but you had figured it would be worth it. 
It wasn’t. 
In fact, the dress hasn’t seen anything but the inside of your apartment. 
Your hair was done just the way you love it, you pulled out all the stops with your makeup, and you had squeezed yourself into this glittery, red mini dress that makes your tits look stunning, which you bought just for this night. 
You’d been out with Brent twice before, and even though you’d thought it was a little early in your “relationship” for a Valentine’s Day dinner, when he asked to “make it a special night” for you, you agreed. The last thing you wanted was to be alone on this godforsaken holiday. 
Well, at least he’d had the courtesy to give you twenty minutes' notice that he was bailing on you instead of just leaving you waiting on your couch wondering if he would come at all. 
Now you’re just waiting on your couch, wondering what the fuck to do. 
You open your messages on your phone and swipe away from your broken plans. The next thread under it is Joel’s. 
Joel: i swear 2 god i saw one tho
You: you did not see a UFO, Joel 
Joel: yes i did!!! it was way the hell up there flashin its lights!!! saw it clear as day!!!
You: that was most definitely just a normal plane, old man. Turn off Ancient Aliens once in a while. 
Joel: ur gonna be real sorry wen im FAMOUSS for findin the first REAL aliens 👽 🛸 
You: I’m sure I will be
Joel: u can make it up 2 me by flashin me them headlights of urs again 😈
Joel: honk honk 😈
You: Bye 🙄 😒
Joel: 👅
A smile tugs at your lips as you read through the conversation from earlier this evening. You hadn’t told him about the date. Or dates, rather. If this one had gone well, you might have. If things wound up back at your place and actually moved a step toward something. 
You deflate against the back of your couch. Because there’s nothing now. Just you, your suffocating dress, and your stupid heels. The vicious claws of insecurity start to scrape at the back of your neck. 
Brent didn’t want you. You weren’t good enough. You’re not good enough for anyone.
Tears prick at your eyes and you dab them with the side of your finger to keep your mascara intact, following it up with some deep breaths and your head tipping back between your shoulders, forcing the tears back into your skull.  
That’s not true, you recite to yourself. You know there’s always someone who’s happy to see you. 
Another deep breath. 
Someone who would be dead on his feet seeing you dressed like this. 
On your next breath you’re already shimmying out of your panties and checking the mirror to make sure no one is getting a free show who doesn’t deserve it. 
You scurry as quickly as you can to your car, shivering so fiercely it feels like your goddamn pussy has goosebumps from being exposed like this. You weather through it, chanting in your head some quote you heard about how hoes never get cold. 
When you get to the gas station, you scamper from your car into the store, shuddering when the heat hits you once you open the door. You tug your dress down and glance around, not immediately seeing Joel anywhere. He’s not at his usual spot, parked behind the counter. You venture further into the shop, peering down the aisle. 
“Evening,” someone says just behind you, and you jump, whirling around. 
It’s not Joel. It’s some other schmuck with a scraggly, graying ginger beard and a crooked, lumpy nose. His smile is friendly enough, but it lacks that trademark sleaziness that typically oozes from the person you’re accustomed to seeing man the store. His name tag reads Walter. 
“Evening,” you squeak out, cringing and clearing your throat when your voice spills out much higher pitched than you expected. You tug on your dress again. 
“Help you with anything?” he asks, and you’re relieved to find his gaze holding steady on yours, not drifting elsewhere despite the swathes of skin on display in your chosen outfit.
Joel wouldn’t even be able to begin to know where to fucking look, your mind provides, and you find yourself trying to come to terms with the apparent fact that… Joel isn’t here. 
He isn’t here – on Valentine’s Day. 
“I’m, um…I’m actually looking for Joel?”
Walter’s eyebrows shoot up, then fall into a furrow. “He been hiring on the clock again? Goddamn it, I told him not to fucking do that anymore,” he mutters, shaking his head down at the floor before looking back up at you. “Miss, I’m real sorry, I know you’re doing honest work and all, but I can’t have that shit here.”
It takes a moment for you to fully register what he’s saying, but when you do, your eyes go wide. “Oh, sir, I’m not— you’ve got— no, no. I’m just a friend of Joel’s.”
“I'm sure you are, Miss, but I—”
“I’m not a prostitute,” you insist under your breath, glancing around to ensure no one is in the vicinity. “I swear to god, I just had a date tonight, or I was going on a date, and then I wasn’t, and— I swear, I’m just dressed for a date. A normal date.”
You’re not sure your frantic insistence has Walter very reassured, but he just nods, a skeptical look in his eye. “Well, in any case, he’s not here. He’s got the night off.”
“Got it. Okay, thank you,” you say, wincing a little at the palpable awkwardness. You rush past him to leave, your heels clicking loudly, and apparently, whorishly, across the floor. 
“Stay safe out there, honey,” Walter calls after you. 
Your car is blessedly still harboring warmth as you clamor back inside and start the engine. You catch your breath and mull over what to do next. 
He wasn’t there. On Valentine’s Day. You feel like that can only mean one thing. Something squiggles and squirms in your belly at that thought. 
You have one more shot, and you take it, speeding off toward the outskirts, hoping you can go fast enough to drown out the weird feeling in your stomach. 
His truck is there. And it’s alone in the gravel next to his trailer. 
You see light through his weeping blinds, a warm yellow glow accompanied by periodically flickering colors that you assume is his television. A good sign, you think. 
The wind whips around your bare legs as you climb his steps carefully in your stilettos, staring up to admire the waxing gibbous moon shining absurdly bright against the speckled black sky. You lean against the dilapidated railing of his tiny porch in front of his door. The sky is never this bright where you live. It fills you with a sort of warmth. Comfort. You hear the distorted sound of voices on his television and the faint aroma of weed seeping out the frame of his door. 
You don’t hear anyone else. 
So you knock. 
You hear a nasty cough from the other side of the door and the volume of the TV ticking down. The door swings open and you’re hit in the face two-fold—with a wall of smoke and a wall of bare-chested man. 
Joel blinks and squints reddened eyes as he blocks the entire doorway, billows of haze attempting to escape around him to the fresh air. Then recognition glows in his eyes and his gaze drifts. Up and down. And his jaw goddamn drops. 
Your arms clasp at your back as you rock on your teetering heels. 
“Hi.”
Joel crams his eyes shut again, shaking his head like a dog like he’s trying to clear a fog over his vision. But he opens them again, and you’re still standing there, and he expels a long, narrow breath through his lips. 
“Jesus fucking Christ. This is heaven, right? Or— jesus— fuckin’…hell, in that devil of a dress,” he shakes his head again, slower, more like disbelief, and a smile pushes at your mouth. “You just showin’ up on my doorstep? Dressed like that? I must be fuckin’ dead.”
You temper your broadening grin, reining in your utter delight at receiving exactly the reaction you were craving. “So, you’re saying me, weed, and…” you crane your head to peek at his television, “And SVU is your idea of heaven?”
“Damn near fuckin’ close,” he says, a reverence about his tone as he drinks you in gratuitously. He pulls himself out of his stupor and hurriedly gestures inside. “Jesus, sweetheart, come in. Gotta be freezin’ your gorgeous tits off out there.”
His hand falls to the small of your back as he ushers you inside, the sweet tang of his evening stress relief burning stronger in your nostrils in his living room. 
Joel shuts the door behind you both and lets out a sharp whistle. “Sweet Mary Mother’a God. That fuckin’ ass,” he mutters under his breath. 
You peer your head around your shoulder to take in the sight of him, just as he does you. One hand frozen against the door, soft belly poking out over the hem of his sweatpants, dark hair sweeping over the curve of it and up his chest. And, of course, that fucking tent at his crotch, growing larger by the second. 
“Be still my fuckin’ heart – the hell are you doin’ here in that, darlin’ girl?”
Your cheeks begin to heat. 
He’s never said it like that. Darlin’ girl. It’s usually some iteration of one or the other, but never together. 
Darlin’ girl. 
You fill in a blank for yourself — unintentionally, but so fucking naturally. 
My darlin’ girl. 
Where your stomach was squirming, it now flutters. You swallow it down. Pull your mind back. You just want to feel wanted. That’s why you’re here. 
Then he’s at your back, pressing all of him against you. The softness of his torso, the scratch of his facial hair, the hardness of his cock. Planting feathery kisses along your neck with teasing bites. 
A giggle bubbles up your chest and you free up more of your neck for him to devour. “I’m here to see the stupid aliens, you dumbass.”
His lips pause on your neck. “Oh yeah?” he mumbles against your skin. 
“Yeah,” you laugh lightly, “Where’s your flying saucer? Your flashing lights?”
Joel’s hands sweep up your sides and cup your breasts through your dress, squeezing them tight in his grip. “Right fuckin’ here, baby,” he growls into the underside of your jaw, “Let me turn ‘em on for ya.”
You throw your head back with another easy laugh and you feel the shape of his smile against your cheek as he massages your covered tits. 
“Mmmm,” he hums, rocking his hips against your ass, his massive length nestling and sliding between your cheeks over your dress. “Come smoke a bowl with me. ‘N then tell me why you’re dressed like living sin in my living room.” 
“How about you just fuck me,” you sigh, tangling your fingers into Joel’s hair and holding his lips to your neck. 
“‘Cause I wanna stare at you in this dress a little while longer ‘fore I rip it to fuckin’ shreds,” he says, his words increasingly muffled by the exposed skin of your spaghetti-strapped shoulder. 
A shiver trembles down your spine and you take a steadying breath. “Okay. Then you better detach before all that shit goes out the window.”
Joel takes a deep breath and rolls his forehead over your shoulder with a moan. “Smart. You’re so goddamn smart. So goddamn pretty. Got my Peter pipin’ up a storm down there.”  
You roll your eyes and will yourself forward, toppling onto his sagging couch with him trailing along behind and groaning as he sinks into it. 
Your hands go to the straps on your heels and you begin to unfasten when you hear a definitive nuh-uh. You glance up and Joel’s eyes are fixated on your blood-red satin heels. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”
“Really?”
“Really. Those naughty fuckers stay on,” he orders, and you have no choice but to let your hands fall away. 
“Okay, then.”
Joel’s tongue darts out to wet his lips briefly. “Shit. Alright. Where the fuck was I?”
Joel busies his hands – his focus – with topping off the contents in the bowl of his bong. He graciously offers it to you. 
“Light it for me?”
Joel smirks and flicks his lighter as he holds the glass contraption steady. 
Once you’ve taken a healthy puff, Joel sets the devices aside and crooks a finger under your chin, coaxing you forward. The burn curls in your throat as you hold the smoke. Joel’s nose traces a delicate line down your cheek before hovering his parted lips over your mouth and tracing his thumb over your painted red lip, smearing the color down your chin. 
“Let it out,” he mutters, his heavy, rosey stare shimmering into yours. 
The smoke cascades from between your lips into Joel’s waiting mouth where he inhales it with practiced ease, holding it for a moment before exhaling the remnants of it over your face with a lazy smile. 
“So fuckin’ sweet spillin’ outta that mouth, little Sugarplum,” he croons, continuing to futz with the color on your lips. 
You wrinkle your nose at him and laugh. “Dude, you’re so fucking high right now, my asshole would probably taste sweet.”
“It does,” Joel drawls, rolling your bottom lip down and watching it snap back up. “I got first-hand ‘xperience. Or…first…mouth…” Joel’s train of thought floats off from there as his eyes transfix on your lips. 
“Another hit, please.”
That refocuses his attention and he nods, a little sluggish. You take the reins this time, lighting the bowl yourself and savoring your pull. 
As you exhale again into the thick air of his trailer, Joel takes another, more modest puff to maintain his already achieved high. 
“Shit, I needed this,” you groan, feeling more and more boneless as you melt into his couch. “That’s good shit.”
“I don’t skimp on what’s important,” Joel mumbles, slumping over until his curly mop plops into your lap. 
You chuckle at him, stroking a hand through his hair and receiving a very pornographic moan in response when your nails scratch against his scalp. 
“Fuckin’ Christ. You’re my fuckin’ angel. Angel in devil’s clothes.”
Cleverness begins to fail you as the cozy tendrils of the weed start to lighten your brain into something a little more relaxed. So you just sink into the couch, playing with his soft locks and humming to his lethargic babble. 
When you’ve waded through the deepest of the haze, Joel sits back up, cradling his cheek in the crook of his arm as it balances on the back of his sofa. “So what are you doin’ here, Sugarplum? You get all dressed up for me? ‘Cause I somehow doubt that.”
You smirk at him in what you hope is playfully, but lands somewhere closer to dopey. “Why do you doubt that?”
He just fixes you with a telling look, and you concede. 
“Okay. No, I um– I had a date tonight.”
Joel nods, a little exaggeratedly in his current state. “Pretty little thing had a date. ‘Course she did.”
“Well, I did,” you say, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them to your side, maintaining what seems like a silly level of modesty given your present company. “Until he canceled on me about twenty minutes before he was supposed to pick me up.”
The divots between his brows seem to grow impossibly deep at that. “You gotta be goddamn jokin’ me. No fucker in his right mind would stand up a thing like you.”
You dip your head down, picking at the fraying threads of his couch cushion. “Not so sure about that.”
“I am. I’m damn sure.”
You shrug, “I just didn’t want the dress to go to waste.”
“Sure as hell didn’t.”
You hum in response. Picking. Tugging. Picking. Tugging. Until you feel fingers pinching your chin and guiding your attention up. And his eyes are still watery, still tinged with red, but are so unwavering as they burrow into your own, brimming with wetness for a wholly different reason. 
“Hey,” he utters, soft as anything, soft as his hair, soft as his belly, soft as his eyes. “It sure as hell didn’t,” he repeats, and waits for you to acknowledge it. 
And you do, with a small nod and sniffle. 
“Good girl.”
Your lip quivers at that, and the words tumble out. “Fuck me. Right now.”
Your back hits the seat cushions and his mouth is on yours, tasting sweet and a little bitter as his tongue strokes between your teeth. His noises pitch upward as you tug lightly at his hair, and his knee situates itself between your legs, providing you with delicious friction against your already dripping core. 
Joel’s breath wafts hot over your ear as he rasps, “You take your panties off for him or for me?”
“For you,” you reply breathily, moaning as he nips and licks at your ear, his increased breath reverberating in your head so loud it makes your pussy throb with the influx of intimacy. 
“All for me?” he asks, maneuvering a hand down to where you’re wet and begging for him, “Goin’ commando in this tight ‘n tiny little number, riskin’ givin’ anyone on the street a flash of your drippy little slit?”
Your moan bounces off the walls when he slips two fingers inside of you, pumping and curling them with a rehearsed accuracy that has pleasure fraying your edges as soon as he sets his pace. 
“And you brought it here to me? Brought me this sexy, heart-shaped box of yours all wrapped up in a pretty package?”
“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, wrapping a heel-clad foot around his waist to spread yourself open for him, “Brought it for you. All for you. Please.”
“You gonna come for me, you naughty little angel? Come on daddy’s fingers.”
You whimper as he strokes at you with those fingers, his other hand descending on your clit to rub circles with his thumb. Your hips buck into his hand on your clit and down onto his fingers pistoning inside you, and you feel yourself coming apart all at once, your voice breaking as you call out for him. 
Joel showers you in praise as he fucks you through your release, resting his forehead on your temple. “Good fuckin’ girl. All that for daddy. Good girl. Squeeze daddy’s fingers, just like that, baby. Fuckin’ shit. So fuckin’ pretty.”
A whine kicks up in your throat as the overstimulation starts to throb in your clit, and you bump at his hand to stem the sensation. Joel’s fingers web through yours as he pins your hand above your head on the arm of the sofa, his two fingers slowing to a methodical crawl within your pussy. 
“Love how you feel around my fuckin’ fingers, sweetheart. Love seein’ how tight you clench around ‘em, knowin’ I’m about to stretch you wide open on my cock and feel you just as tight.”
“Fucking love your cock, daddy,” you keen as your hips undulate in time with his continued ministrations inside you. “Wanna be filled with it right now.”
“You want daddy’s cock now?” he teases, the tips of his two fingers dragging delightfully against the most enticing spot of your inner walls, drawing a tender gasp from your lips. 
“I really, really do,” you whimper, grinding onto his hand harder, “Need you to split me open, daddy.”
“Can I get a ‘please’ all pretty-like for me?”
You whine again and nod. “Please, daddy. Fill me with your cock.”
“You deserve it, don’t you, sexy girl?”
And the way he asks it, the way his eyes bore into yours when he does, you feel like he’s asking you to admit to more than you’d otherwise be willing to offer yourself. 
Tell yourself that you deserve good things. You deserve this pleasure. 
“I—” your breath hitches as his fingers crook inside you again, your nerve faltering at your lips. 
Joel’s lips part as he keeps drawing your pleasure tighter again, and you feel your core building that pressure again. “Tell me. Tell daddy you deserve his cock.”
“I— I deserve it,” you force out through the mounting pleasure in your brain, gasping when his fingers pick up momentum. “Oh, god, that…it feels…”
“Yeah, pretty girl? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for daddy, I can feel it too. You deserve this, baby,” he coos, releasing your trapped hand to press firmly above your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn wet for me. Show me how wet you are for daddy, make your little hole gush for me.”
“Daddy, I…oh,” you squeak out as a wave of pleasure washes over you, pulsing out your limbs. And more than that, you feel a steady stream of liquid flow out of you, you hear the wet slap of Joel’s fingers, his palm, as it floods his hand. 
“Oh fuck, that’s it, baby. That’s it, darlin’ girl. Soak my fuckin’ hand. Such a naughty little bitch. Squirtin’ out your filthy little snatch for daddy. That’s fuckin’ right,” he babbles as his palm smacks lewdly up against your cunt with a fresh wave of wetness. 
Your hips jolt with the heightened sensation, and you can’t muster anything more than barely audible moans as Joel fucks you until you have nothing left for him to coax out. 
“Fuckin’ shit, sweetheart. Messy fuckin’ girl,” he grunts as he wipes his dripping hand on his sweats before tucking both behind your knees and spreading your legs to admire your drenched, finger-fucked cunt. “So juicy for daddy, huh? Daddy’s gonna slide his big straw into that sloppy little juice box of yours. And when I’m done you can suck on his big straw like a good little girl. How’s that sound, sweetheart?”
“Can you please just fuck me?” you beg, slipping the straps of your dress off your shoulders to push your dress and strapless bra below your tits. Joel stares hungrily as you play with them for him. 
“Fuck me. Yeah, your little box is ready to get stuffed, ain’t it?” he moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss up your calf and up to your ankle, still encased in your shoe. His teeth bite at the strap and buckle, skimming his lips wetly down the curve of your foot to the arch of it and sucking at the side of it he’s able to reach. 
“Joel,” you whine helplessly, desperately as your pussy screams for that bulge in his pants to bury itself inside your body instead. “What the fuck are you doing.”
“Worshippin’ my slutty little goddess. You blessed me with this little dress, this tasty little puss, so I’m gonna show my appreciation,” he mutters into your foot. 
And it shouldn’t feel good, but you’ve never had anyone put their lips on your feet before, and you’re so fucking horny for this man, you let yourself feel it. Your other heel drapes over his shoulder as his mouth drags over the slope of your foot and back up your ankle. 
“Such a pretty outfit, so I’ve decided not to tear it apart. Nasty little whore, you made it easy to access whatever I want anyway,” he chuckles a bit, gliding his teeth up until he can bite at the skin under your knee. 
You groan and press your head into the couch cushion, “Not the first person to accuse me of being a hooker tonight.”
Joel pauses for a second with a suspicious look. “Who was the first? Better not’ve been that shitty fucker who stood you up, or I’ll deck his lights out,” he says with a gentle aggression that has a rolling heat burgeoning in your stomach for a reason you can’t quite place.
“No, it was that old guy at your work tonight.”
Joel cocks his head. “Walter? Walter said you were a hooker?”
“I said I was looking for you and he just…assumed, I think. You hire hookers on the clock? ‘Cause he seems to think so.”
“Only a handful of times,” he mutters, his eyes going shifty, uneasy, almost…embarrassed. “I don’t wanna talk about that. Not with your slutty little hole winkin’ at me like that.”
“Fair enough,” you dismiss, tapping your heel against Joel’s back to spark his attention. “Stop making me fucking wait for what I came for.”
“Already came twice,” Joel says under his breath, but he uses the hand not gripping the back of your knee to work his cock out of its confines, springing out angry and red and as intimidating as ever. He leaves it bobbing free as he takes up his hands behind both of your knees to spread you wider. “Guide it where you want it, pretty girl. He’s all yours.”
You bite your lip at those words. He’s all yours. Your hand wraps around his girth before you let your mind race too far. You stroke him softly and revel in the way his chin droops down to his chest and a groan rumbles in his throat at the first real stimulation of his cock. 
“Let me feel that red velvet pussy, baby.”
You finally notch the fat head of him at your entrance and wiggle your hips down the couch, gasping as it parts your opening with a dull sting. When you capture Joel’s gaze, you beg softly, “Fuck it, daddy. She’s all yours.”
His face caves into an expression so aroused it almost looks painful. And then he’s groaning to fill the hush of the room and spearing into your cunt with every inch of him at once. 
You’ll never get used to the sounds that he pushes out of you when he fucks you full, when he enters you for the first time and smacks you in the face with how gigantic he is in comparison to the tight ring of your pussy. Like a wounded animal, like prey falling to a predator, like you’re irreversibly changed once he’s claimed you for his own. 
His rhythm sets off harsh and frantic and consuming, keeping your legs spread to feast his eyes upon your ravaged flesh. 
“Fuck, so goddamn perfect. Feel so perfect around my cock. Milkin’ daddy just right with this tight little hole, aren’t you, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, tweaking your hardened nipples between your fingers and massaging at your tits as his hips smack against yours, the drenched state of your pussy enhancing the sound. 
Joel secures your legs over his shoulders and leans in over you, bracketing your head with his hands and snapping his hips into you as you cry out with the change in angle, pulling him deeper inside you. 
“Yeah, daddy’s so fuckin’ deep, huh? You love this fuckin’ cock? You love daddy fuckin’ this dirty snatch so fuckin’ deep?”
“Yes,” you keen, flinging your hands back to dig your nails into the arm of his couch and using it as leverage to fuck yourself down onto his length as he shoves it in, falling into a blissful harmony. 
“Fuck daddy’s cock, slutty girl. God, I fuckin’ love that. Suckin’ it right up your cunt like a pro. Pussy’s so tight I got it molded to my cock now, don’t I? Ain’t gonna fit right with no other cock, is it?”
“No, daddy,” you whine, plunging yourself down onto him again and again just to feel the tip of it dragging along your cervix in that way you have come to fucking crave. Joel’s cock fucks you open and curves up into that perfect spot inside of you in the most flawless rhythm, and it has you spiraling into another orgasm with no discernible warning. You pussy clenches and spills around his cock, soaking the both of you with what Joel had already primed you for with his fingers. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Joel moans as he lets his cock slip out of you to watch you gush onto his thoroughly soiled couch. He fucks back into you in a single push and withdraws again, just to see more of it rush out. Joel fists his cock and slaps it down onto your spread folds in a series of heavy smacks, then rubs the head of it against your clit as the rivulets cascading from you subside. “Gushin’ like a fuckin’ jacuzzi. Where you been hidin’ this little party trick?”
“I don’t fucking know,” you pant out, trying to get a grip on your shaking thighs as Joel’s cock slides through your folds. “Fuck. I didn’t know…”
“Well if anyone was gonna teach you, it would be your big dick daddy, now wouldn’t it?” Joel brags, smacking the full length of him against your lips and lower belly. 
You twitch with residual aftershocks as the weight of him jostles you, and Joel chuckles. 
“You’re shaking like a leaf darlin’,” he says, tapping one of your quivering thighs. “Flip over for me. Daddy’s gonna dick you down real good.”
“Gonna?” you squeak out, staring at him incredulously, “What have you been doing so far?”
Joel presses his lips together to stifle a laugh and smacks at your thigh again. “Ego’s already big enough, darlin’. Don’t go pumpin’ it up for me now.”
“Can say that again,” you mutter with a small smile, but flip over until you’re flat on your stomach and resting your head in your arms. “Big dick, bigger ego.”
Joel grunts behind you as he settles on top of you, slipping his arm under and around your shoulder and nuzzling into your neck. He grinds his cock into the cleft of your ass before pulling back and aligning it at your entrance again with his hand. He hums in your ear and says with laughter in his voice, “Imagine if it was my ego I was shovin’ into this tiny cunt. You’d be fucked.”
Your reply is replaced with a gasping moan as he presses back into you at a different angle, this one rubbing intensely along the front wall of your pussy. The groan you release is embarrassing, abhorrent to your own ears, but Joel’s answering moan has all concern fluttering from your conscience. 
“How’re you still so fuckin’ tight after I’ve fucked you open so many times, huh, Sugarplum?” he asks, voice clearly forced out through his teeth, like he’s fighting for his life not to spill his load inside of you in the next few seconds. But he bottoms out and fucks you slow, staying balls deep and making a home for himself there in the deepest part of you. “Jesus, need to dust off the ol’ cock ring. Wanna fuck you for hours, baby. Fuck you raw and stupid on this dick. Fuck you ‘til you fall asleep on it, you’re so goddamn tired. Fuck you ‘til you forget what it feels like to not be stuffed full of me.”
“Daddy,” you whimper into your arms, already overwhelmed by the sheer heft of this man making room for himself inside your body, not even giving your pussy an ounce of space to relax that isn’t around him, isn’t on his terms. “Feels so fucking good inside. So fucking big.”
“I know it, sweetheart. So good at takin’ this cock. That first time I thought you was gonna pass out on it. And look at you now – shakin’ and beggin’ for it like a bitch. You daddy’s bitch, nasty girl?”
“Yes,” you whine as Joel starts to slam his hips harder, faster into you, “Yes, I’m your bitch, daddy!” And you’re suddenly screaming it for him as his fingers dig into the back of your shoulder, holding you steady as he uses you. 
“Fuck yeah,” he growls out, hoisting himself off you and hauling your hips into the air along with him. He fucks down deep into you as you moan into the couch, allowing him to take what he’s rightfully earned from you, simply by appreciating you, knowing how to make you scream, knowing how to make you come. 
And you’re fairly dizzy with the experience, but you aren’t far gone enough to not feel the slippery thumb massaging circles against the tight ring of muscle he’s only ever explored before with his tongue. 
A mewl escapes your lips as the tip of the digit teases your resolve. 
“You gonna be my little slut, baby? Let daddy put his thumb in your ass. It’s real good for ya. It’ll be real good,” he speaks in breathy pants as his cock maintains its devastating tempo. 
You let out a pitiful whimper, and you’re only partially surprised that the only answer in your head is yes, yes, yes. 
It’s apparently also on your lips, because without even registering that you’ve said it aloud, Joel is rumbling out a deep and resonant, “That’s my darlin’ girl.” You swear you feel your eyes roll back in your head as the possessive praise inextricably clings itself to the sensation of his thick, meaty thumb gliding into your asshole up to the knuckle. 
It shouldn’t feel this good. It shouldn’t feel this good having his cock filling you to the brim and then even more of him filling your ass. You’ve never liked anal, you’ve never even been interested in it, but this fucking tornado of a man has everything spinning in your head, disorienting your thoughts, screaming at you that what you thought was wrong is so, so right. 
“Lemme get a picture of this, sweetheart – of you all plugged up with me.”
“Okay,” you gasp, constricting your grip around his thumb as if needing to hammer into your head that there’s a finger in your ass. A thick finger. He can probably feel his own cock through the separating skin. 
Joel groans as you flex around his finger. “Spread yourself for the camera, baby.”
Your hands move to your cheeks and you can’t bring yourself to feel shame for this. Not for shit like this, with him. Not anymore. He makes you feel dirty and sexy and beautiful and worth his time. Why the hell wouldn’t you want to document this?
“Fuckin’ hell. Just like that.” You hear a series of shutters, and then his thumb slides out of you and he uses it to pull at the small established gape he’s made of your asshole. A few more shutters and Joel is muttering perfect, fuckin’ perfect, as he tosses his phone aside.
The words flow through you like hot honey tea, even if you weren’t meant to hear them. How does a man like him make you feel so treasured when you’re with him? You don’t belong to him, but he treats you like you do, in the most respectful of ways. He drags you down with him into the depths of his depravity, and yet once you’re there, you’re pleasured like… like a goddess. Like his goddess. 
Joel’s hips ramp up again, timing his thrusts with that of his thumb as he fucks you in both holes at once. “God, so fuckin’ beautiful like this. Wanna stretch this hole open until you can take this whole cock up your ass, baby. Spill my load in there, watch it drip down your cunt.”
And you had said unequivocally no. You had said, not tabling. Off the table. But, god, deep down you know he’d make it feel so good. Somehow, he’d make it worth it. And it’s fucking killing you. You can’t admit that to him, you can’t let him know that you’re convinced he could make anything feel good. That’s too close to something. And this isn’t something. This is I make you feel good, you make me feel good, and we go our separate ways. 
So you just moan for him in response. A verbal confirmation is too much. Giving him too much power over you. And Joel seems too lost in the clutch of your body to parse the difference. 
“Velvet fuckin’ pussy, darlin’,” he chants to the rhythm of his hips colliding with yours, and you’ve come to recognize the telltale signs of his impending orgasm. His sounds start to fluctuate in pitch, his hips more stuttered in their movement, his fingernails indent your skin as he frantically clings to the final moments of euphoric crescendo before the cymbal crash. 
And crash it does, announced with an unabashed groan of sheer pleasure as he spills himself inside of you again, so many times now you’ve lost count, lost sense of the level of responsibility in your actions. Too feral, too dependent on the soothing, post-fuck tranquility of his come dripping from the deepest part of you. A balm to your stretched, aching wound that he caused, because you asked him to — keep asking him to — again and again. A reminder of where he’s been, what he’s done to you, what he’s done with you in all these private moments. 
He slips himself free, and you feel the trickle of him, evidence of how much he’s pumped into you. Leaving you open and gaping, yet so fucking full of him, even after he’s gone. Pulled out and dripped free of your heat and hold. 
Lazy kisses paint up your back where your dress has ridden up your spine, and then back down to bite more reminders of him into the flesh of your ass, until he guides your hips flush to the couch and blankets you with his weight. 
Minutes of quiet breath-catching tick by, feeling the scratch of his hair where your bare skin meets along your bodies, until Joel breaks the silence to say, “Stupid bastard was out of his fuckin’ mind.”
And you’re not positive why, but you feel tears stinging your eyes again. You steel yourself, refuse to let them fall, force them to dry out before they betray you. 
You clear your throat of any traitorous frogs before you speak again. “Sorry about your couch.”
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout,” he reassures, grunting quietly as he shifts himself off you and slips behind instead, pulling you into him, “Plus, Doreen’s got one of them special little steam cleaners she lets me borrow from time to time. Get it cleaned up real nice.”
“Doreen?”
“Little old lady ‘cross the way,” he says into your hair. 
You do your best to turn slightly and look at him. “You’re friends with the little old lady across the way?”
“You doubt my charm?”
Your eyes search his face — the wide, dopey smile, the drooping eyelids, the dwindling glassy rose in his eyes from the weed — and you smile back. 
“Maybe. Feel like you would be a kind old lady’s worst nightmare.”
“Nah, I’m a good boy. Just ask my mama,” he quips. 
“Sure,” you joke, positioning yourself back into a proper little spoon. 
You feel a kiss on the back of your head. “Gonna step out for some fresh air and a smoke. Keep me company?”
You grumble as Joel props himself upright on the couch and pulls his sweats back up. “‘S’cold outside,” you groan, watching him as he stands and slips on a shirt from where it was strewn onto the back of a chair. 
Joel studies you where you lie, your dress a flimsy accordion with the top and bottom convening at your torso, leaving Joel’s favorite bits on display. And as much as you assume it probably pains him to have your body hidden from his view, he says, “You can wear my coat.”
Your eyes light up. “Yeah?”
Joel masks a grin and grabs the coat off the peg by the door, throwing it to you. You know this coat. You’ve worn it before. And although you don’t want to give yourself away by inhaling its scent too gratuitously, you don’t capture any hints of your perfume on the fabric in your covert sniffs. It’s been too long. 
You push yourself onto only moderately shaky legs and work yourself back into your dress properly before slipping your arms through the coat and zipping it around you. You feel a bit like a giant marshmallow in the padded utility jacket, but when you look back up at Joel, there’s a shimmer of something in his eyes, on his face. And something like a twitch in his mouth, like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it. 
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen Joel hold his tongue over anything, so it’s likely just a trick of the light, the lingering effects of your high. 
Joel’s eyes only tear from you to swipe up his smokes and lighter from the coffee table and step into a pair of slides before he’s leading you out the door. 
The cold is bitter, but Joel’s coat is warm enough. Your legs prick with the chill breeze as Joel sticks two cigarettes into his mouth and lights them both, handing one off to you. You rest on the railing with him side by side, taking reasonably synchronous puffs as you stare up at the moon, the stars. 
A couple screams at each other a few lots down, their voices only muted by the distance and the persistent, humming buzz of Joel’s porch light. 
“Right on cue,” Joel mumbles around his cig as he scratches his beard. “Kev can’t keep it in his fuckin’ pants for the life of ‘im.”
“Mmm. Sounds like someone I know.”
Joel’s sidelong glance is sprinkled with a sort of childlike mischievousness as the corners of his mouth lilt. “Maybe so. But I wouldn’t step out on my girl, though.”
His lingering gaze has the back of your neck growing hot. You hum in agreement as you take another drag, tapping the ash with fingers half-obscured by the length of Joel’s sleeves and watching as it falls to the gravel below. 
Joel flicks the ash of his own smoke against the railing to plop down next to yours, and exhales a cloud as he stares off in the direction of the feuding couple’s trailer. “When I got a girl, that’s all I need. And it’s been a rare blue moon that my girl ever went and got it somewhere else.”
He takes in a steady, clean breath and shrugs with his head before continuing. “And whenever they did, they came crawlin’ right back. Always come to find that their daddy lays the best pipe. Ain’t never seen one of my girls spread ‘em open for no one else after they stepped out the first time. Not ‘til after it was over.” 
Your focus catches on his lips as they wrap around his cigarette again, the barest concave of his cheeks as he sucks, the pout of him as he expels into the night air. And you ache to say something. You feel heavy with it. 
The opening chords of a melodic ballad fall upon your ears, and you both swivel your heads in the opposite direction of the screaming pair. Instead, you’re graced with a couple coming together in an embrace, slowly rocking to the music floating from their porch. 
A soft laugh escapes you as you watch them wistfully. “Now that is how a Valentine’s Day is supposed to end.”
Joel glances at you. He takes one last drag from his smoke and tamps it out on the wood before dropping it into a chipped mug on the railing, housing a dozen cigarette butts. He holds a hand out to you and tilts his head toward the pavement. 
You stare at his outstretched hand, and your mind trips over itself to unravel the intent behind it. “What are—”
“Dance with me.”
Your eyes snap up to his, and you’re met with an easy smile on a disheveled, glassy-eyed, gorgeous man. Braving the cold in sweats, a wrinkly and hole-riddled Henley, and slides on tube-socked feet. Asking you to dance while clad in his coat and your stilettos. 
You chew on your lip as you watch his fingers wiggle impatiently as your cigarette butt kisses Joel’s in the mug when you discard it. And then as your hand slides into his. 
“Atta girl,” he praises you softly, tugging you down the steps with him and onto the pavement. 
Joel isn’t fancy with it. He just pulls you close into him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you drape your head on his shoulder.  He sways the two of you from side to side following the beat of the music. Your heels scrape the asphalt, your nails scratch the back of his neck, and his hands dip below the hem of his coat to tease at the round of your ass over your dress. 
“Sure I ain’t said it enough, but you’re a goddamn knockout tonight,” he rumbles quietly into your ear, his fingers groping at the bottom curve of your cheeks to emphasize his point. 
And after your date flaked on you, after you got dolled up for him, got your hopes up for a nice night, and had your plans disintegrate between your fingers, just for Joel to swoop in and illuminate your sky with stars, those words spear right through your heart. 
And you know you should say something traditionally sweet back. Something like thank you or you too. But as those softer words rattle around your brain, you feel wetness trickling down your inner thigh, and you opt to whisper something more personalized. Something you know Joel would find sweetest of all to fall from your lips. “I can feel you dripping out of me.”
A groan vibrates up his chest and one hand slips between your bodies until you feel the cool press of his fingers at your cunt. 
“Fuck me, darlin’,” he breathes, bringing up two thick fingers for you to see, glistening opalescent in the moonlight. 
He doesn’t ask, you just drop your jaw and stick your tongue out for him, sucking your shared juices off his skin as your eyes lock. He pulls them free and replaces them with his mouth, tasting the two of you off your tongue. Joel’s hand nestles under your dress once more to cup your pussy. Not to slide inside, not to get you off. Just to hold you as close as he knows how. To catch where the two of you fall. 
He nuzzles your nose with his and tucks your face into his neck with his other hand as he sways with you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Sugarplum.” 
You sigh into his neck and lay your hand over his beneath your dress. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, daddy.”
Next
Tumblr media
Read Chloe's Account of Joel's UFO sighting here!
Taglist Update: I have decided to decommission my taglist in favor of an updates blog! Please follow @atticrissfinchupdates and opt in for notifications to get notified when I post a new fic!
2K notes · View notes
rninies · 1 month
Text
✮ drunken confessions
౨ৎ gojo satoru x reader. fluff, fem!reader, nicknames (princess and sweetheart), mentions of alcohol, drunk reader — wc: 791
notes. my choso fic is never gonna finish (start) because i keep writing for gojo wtf
Tumblr media
“toruu.” you slur, arms wrapped around his neck as satoru carry you on his back. your breath smells like alcohol due to you drinking two glasses of wine — you’re a lightweight, but that doesn’t stop you from having fun with your friends. satoru had been called prior to the party, your friends knowing that you would need his help getting back home.
“hm?” satoru hums. “what is it?”
“you have such a cute face,” you confess, your hands clumsily squishing his cheeks — satoru gasps as your cold hands touch his cheeks. “just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
satoru laughs. “really? you think i’m cute?”
“mhm,” you reply, eyes drooping. “you’re the cutest man i have ever met.” instead of replying, satoru stays silent, finally realizing that you had indirectly confessed your feelings for him. “i always look forward to meeting you…”
“i do too, princess.” satoru replies softly. when you don’t respond, he knows you have fallen asleep, finally giving in to your drowsiness. he sighs, smiling to himself — he knows he’ll be teasing you about this tomorrow, and if you don’t remember a single thing from tonight, he will make sure you remember.
Tumblr media
you wake up to an intense headache the next morning. groaning, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the pain though it doesn’t help. you don’t remember much about yesterday, only remembering that your friends had asked you to come hang out with them. you remember satoru coming to the club but after that, you don’t remember anything else.
scanning the room, you don’t notice anything out of the ordinary, only a glass of water next to your bedside table with a small sticky note right next to it. you grab the sticky note, reading ‘text me when u wake up plz’ in satoru’s handwriting. confused, you grab your phone and write a quick text to satoru.
in ten minutes, you hear a knock on your door, already expecting it to be satoru. “i’m letting myself in! you don’t mind, do you?” satoru asks, already inside your home without waiting for you to reply.
“you do that every day, you don’t have to ask,” you reply, walking down the stairs. satoru is wearing a white t-shirt with shorts (you can’t help but stare because how can someone wear something so casual but still look so good?). clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. “why did you ask me to text you?” you ask, showing satoru the note he wrote.
“oh,” he sighs. “do you remember anything from last night? anything at all?”
“um, i do remember going to the club with my friends. you were there too… other than that i don’t remember anything else.” you reply. “why?” satoru looks disappointed, and you wonder if you have said something wrong. he suddenly walks up to you before turning you around. “what are you doing?”
satoru suddenly squishes your cheeks from behind, repeating your words from last night. “you have such a cute face. just wanna pinch and kiss your cheeks all day.”
all the memories from last night flooded back into your head, remembering everything that happened between you and satoru. your eyes widen, cheeks turning red. “you-!” you turn your head, eyes meeting satoru.
satoru smiles. “do you remember now?”
“i can’t-” you look away, can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “i can’t believe you remember that.”
“i couldn’t sleep last night because you confessed to me and you expect me to forget about it?” satoru asks in disbelief, turning you around so he can see you better. “you’re asking the impossible here, sweetheart.”
“sweet-” you choked on your spit. “what?”
“what?” satoru asks innocently. “am i not allowed to call you that? i thought we were dating now?”
“we- huh?!” you exclaim. “we are?!”
“oh,” satoru takes your hand in his. “would you like to go out with me?” he looks at you, a big smile on his face. you open your mouth to respond but no words come out of your mouth. your mind goes blank when you see satoru’s smile, the only thing in your mind being how cute he is. “if you’re not going to say anything i’m going to assume it’s a yes and you do want to go out with me.”
“was me confessing yesterday not enough?” you blurt out, crossing your arms. “yes, i would like to go out with you, idiot.”
“that’s better.” satoru says, kissing your forehead. “well then!” he claps his hands. “go get ready. i want to take you somewhere today.”
“wha- now?” you ask. satoru nods, pushing you up the stairs. “but-”
“no buts! you agreed to be my girlfriend so you better be prepared for surprise dates!”
Tumblr media
taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts @sad-darksoul @iminlovewqr0w (send an ask to be added!) <3
1K notes · View notes
number1jeonginstan · 5 months
Note
Hiii!! I saw you take requests! I was wondering if could request something.
Really sweet sex with Chan x fem! Reader. You go out to a fancy party he needs to be seen at. He helps you into your dress and zips it up for you, he applies your mascara. Once they get back from the party, he just wants to show his love, you know? Really sweet sex with chan where he’s super gentle and sweet. I don’t have any preferences for that other than that at some point, he eats us out.
Also, can I be 🌻 anon?
-🌻
Tumblr media
A/N: You gave me too much liberty with this fic. Something about Chan in a suit just makes me wanna go feral! I made it so he cough proposes cough because what’s cuter than that? Nothing! Anyway, I had so much fun writing this, it’s my longest fic to date and I’m so proud of it so I hope you like it and it does you justice! It just makes me so happy when people enjoy my writing!
WC: 3.5k (I genuinely asked myself what the fuck I was on when I saw that I wrote over 7 pages… this is the longest thing I’ve ever written)
Minors don't interact, 18+
Pairing: Non!Idol Bangchan x Gf(to a little more?)afab!reader
Warning: Tooth rotting fluff, like I felt like my teeth were falling out while writing this because I tried making it hella cute! Unprotected sex (Is it really one of my stories if they don’t have an underlying breeding kink?) 
“Hey babe, can you please help me zip this up?” you ran into your and Chan’s shared bedroom wearing a black tight-fighting sparkly dress. You guys were attending the Grammy’s where Chan was being nominated for best producer and songwriter. He was dressed head to toe in Givenchy, wearing a full black look. “Fuck baby, you look amazing,” he said while coming behind you and zipping your dress. 
He kissed your shoulder, his face falling into the crook of your neck. “So do you,” you said, turning around to admire him. He had kept his hair natural, his curls framing his forehead. “I’m so proud of you!” 
You kissed his lips, your lipstick slightly rubbing onto his, making his lips look red. “I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve achieved.” Chan had worked so hard to get to where he was in life and you would be stupid not to admit that. You know the time and effort he put into his work and you want him to see that what he has done has not been futile. 
You wanted to see him up on that stage, receiving the award that he has been working the last 7 years for. His close friends, Jisung and Changbin, were also going to be there, rooting him on. “We should get going, we don’t want to be late to you winning that award” you gave him a grin. 
“Babe, there are so many other more talented artists that are up for that award, I don’t think I’m going to win.” He groaned, following suit behind you, picking up your car keys from the counter. 
You stopped him mid-in his tracks. “Are you fucking kidding me?” you turned him around, forcing him to face you. “You are so talented and need to stop looking down at yourself” You fixed his tie, “You are going to win and then when we get home I’m gonna give you a reward.” You walked away from him quickly, hearing him jog to catch up to you. 
“And what would that reward be?” grabbing your waist as you were getting out of the door. “Now that is a surprise.” 
You both finally got into his car, you in the passenger seat while his right hand gripped your thigh, the other on the wheel. It was a comfortable silence, while you zoned out, looking out the window, he occasionally looked at you. He grinned to himself, what would he do without you. 
When you finally arrived at the show, you told him to walk the red carpet alone. “They don’t know who I am, but they need to know you, so please just go.” He wouldn’t budge, “I’m not going without you, I would rather turn around and go home. Jisung or Bin can represent me instead.” 
You groaned out loud, “Why, this is your moment, you should do this by yourself.” He stopped you mid-sentence. “This is our moment, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, so we are going together or not at all. “Fine, let’s go together superstar” you giggled into his ear, eliciting a laugh from him. 
You guys walked through the red carpet, cameras flashing all around you. You felt like you were going blind, but for Chan, it was second nature. Someone had called him over and he dragged you along with him. 
“So Chris, tell us what you are dressed in. If I may say, you look quite dapper.” The reporter stated, causing Chan to laugh a bit. “My girlfriend and I” he wrapped his hand around your hip, pulling you closer to him “are both wearing Givenchy.”  
“Wow, can I say, you both look beautiful, but now on to the serious question. How does it feel to be nominated for a Grammy? 
“I feel great, I’m so thankful to all my fans for putting me in the position where I can make music that they enjoy. I am also thankful for my family, friends, and most of all my girlfriend for always being there for me, giving me constant support, and dealing with my constant all-nighters” he poked your cheek, “to help me get to where I am and do what I love.” 
“Wow, well thank you so much for your time, I wish you the best of luck and I hope the two of you have an amazing night!” 
You both waved the reporter goodbye, wishing her a good rest of her night. You both walked around a bit, meeting big names and saying hi. Looking around Chris could feel the effort he’s been putting in for the past few years. 
The all-nighters, the never coming home, the days where he forgot dates with you or anniversaries. You stood beside him through all of it, you were the one that was constantly supporting him, and that’s why he wanted to surprise you when you got home tonight.
The ring he had bought to propose to you was burning a hole through his pocket. He prayed that you didn’t know, that it could be a surprise for when the two of you got home. He even got Changbin and Jisung in on it, convincing them to let him go home with you after in exchange for tickets to the after-party. 
“Wow, it is beautiful in here,” you said, looking at the room in awe. Then you pointed out the stage, “look that’s where you are going to get your award” you giggled, kissing his cheek. 
“How many times have we talked about this, I don’t know if I’m going to win or not” he groaned into your ear, the both of you walking to your designated seats, sitting down. “How many times have I told you not to think negatively? I believe you are going to win, so that’s good enough for me.” 
He sighed next to you, you had no idea how lucky he was to find you. He would have been lost without you, aimlessly swimming in the sea, if it wasn’t for you, his rock. When the two of you first started dating, you always told him to achieve his dreams. 
It was five months into your relationship, and you both were supposed to go on a date, but he was so wrapped up in work that he forgot about it. He also forgot basic necessities, like eating and sleeping, he was just too enamored with his work. You had ended up calling him and asking him where he was. He profusely apologized telling you that he had lost all track of time, that he would be right there, but you just told him to not worry about it. 
What he didn't expect was that you were going to bring him a basket of food he liked to his studio. “I told you not to worry about it!” you giggled, bringing his favorite dish. “I know how hard you work, so please don’t worry about it. It’s okay if you forget sometimes, I don’t want to get in the way of you and your passion, as long as you make some time for me!” 
That was the moment he knew he was in love with you. From then on, he tried to put a little less focus into his music, and some into you. He loved that after work, you would come to the studio with him, listen to his demos, and give input. His last relationship was nothing like this. He was constantly busy and the girl ended up cheating on him, making it hard for him to trust others again, but when it came to you, everything came naturally. 
It wasn’t just him that loved you, it was the artist he worked with. Jisung and Changbin also loved you, constantly asking to hang around with you. You were perfect for him, and he never wanted to let you go. 
“Are you excited, your category is next!” He had lost all track of time, just thinking about you. He just smiled, he wanted to win, but he also knew that if he didn’t he still had you. You would never amount his success to the numbers or awards he won, but the effort he put into his work. He just looked at you with his signature smile. “Yeah, I hope I win.” 
That was the first time he ever said anything like that and you beamed a smile at him. “I know you will” you whispered into his ear. As the commercial break was going on before the next award was presented, he took a sip of your champagne, trying to cool down his own nerves. You looked at him in shock, Chan barely ever drank. “Something to help with the nerves,” he told you and you just nodded. 
The infomercials had finally ended and they were about to announce the winner of the best producer of the year. You took Chan’s hand in yours in anticipation, “And the winner is… drum roll please” Your grip around his hand tightened “Christopher Bahng!” 
His face was one of shock, he was bewildered seeing the camera on him. You just smiled at him, clapping. He quickly got up and walked to the stage. The hostess passed him a mic while he stood with the Grammy in his hand. 
“Ummm, wow I was not expecting this at all” the room laughed, “I want to keep this short and sweet, but I don’t think I can. I truly appreciate everyone who has been with me since the beginning, it warms my heart knowing that so many people enjoy the music I make and I am appreciative to my close friends Changbin and Han who helped me make my music” 
You heard them shout behind you, while people stared in their direction. “I want to thank my family and especially my girlfriend especially because without them I don’t think I would have made it this far. I am entirely grateful for all the support, and please look out for new music. Thank you once again!” 
Everyone cheered as he got off the stage and you ran up to him, giving him a bear hug. “I told you, I know everything, I knew you would win.” Before you could even finish your sentence, he kissed your lips. “Thank you, for everything, truly, I love you so much,” he said, kissing your lips again. “I love you too.”
After the show was over, you were prepared to go to the after-party, but as you got into the car, you saw the map showing your address. “Channie, don’t you want to go celebrate?” you asked, a bit puzzled. “I do, and I want to celebrate with you, in the comfort of our home.” 
You just sighed, confused by his decision, but happy that he was going to get some rest at home. The drive back was just as silent, you falling asleep, face pressed to the window. You were tired from the entire day and were glad to get some rest, Chan was also glad because he knew the night you both had in store.
When you both got home, you were about to open your side when Chris stopped you. “Nuh uh” he said, wiggling his finger causing a giggle from your lips. He walked around, opening your side of the car. “Wow, I really am a passenger princess aren’t I?” 
“You don’t even know the most of it.” 
Before your feet could even touch the ground, he picked you up, carrying you bridal style to the door. As you got inside, he told you to enter, he had to get something from the car. You just nodded, taking off your shoes at the front entrance, and turning on the light to your apartment. 
You saw an entire row of pedals on the floor, covering every inch. You walked in still confused, seeing your living room covered with pictures of you and Chan, memories from your dates, even the napkin from your first date when you accidentally dropped coffee on his lap, profusely apologizing. “Channie, what’s going on?” 
You turned around to see him on one knee in front of you. “I didn’t expect to be giving two speeches today, but this one is more important than the one I gave earlier in the night. You have been here through thick and thin, you stayed up just to see me and give me a kiss some nights. You sat with me when I got the flu, you make me feel like I’m the only man in the world. That day when you brought food to my studio, I knew I was in love with you. You are the only person in this universe for me. Will you please make me the happiest man on this planet, and marry me?” 
You began to sob in front of him, “Is that a yes or a no? Because I had to bribe Felix to do this for me, and that was hard, I had to buy him a brand new CPU and GPU.” Before he continued to ramble on, you grabbed him, brought him back to his feet, and kissed him. “Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes.” 
He grinned into your kiss, placing the ring on your finger. “Christopher Chan Bhang, this is way too big, how much did this cost?” You looked at the ring placed on your finger, it was huge. “Not much for a Grammy award winner like me” he giggled, picking you up and spinning around. “Now please, let me show you how much you mean to me.” 
You simply nodded, allowing him to take you to your shared bedroom. “Though I think you look absolutely stunning in this dress, let me take it off you?” You simply nodded, allowing him to undo the zipper, slowly pulling the dress off you. You covered your tits with your arms, the dress having padding, making it so you didn’t have to wear a bra. You were just in your panties. 
“Fuck baby, you always look so beautiful,” he said, causing you to look at him shyly. No matter how many times you both have slept together, you always felt like it was the first time. He was so attentive, loving every inch of your body like you were heaven on earth. He placed a kiss to your lips, laying you on the bed. 
You tried to undo his pants as he took off his tux jacket, but he stopped you. “Tonight is about you princess okay? Be a good girl and let me take care of you.” You just nodded, wanting to speak up, but not wanting to stop him. 
“Fuck princess, you look so good. Always look so good for me, look at you.” He dragged his hands against your thighs, kissing you as he brought a hand to your nipple, playing with it. You moaned as he began to rub against it. “Fuck, always so vocal for me.” 
He placed another kiss on your lips before he went down, slowly opening your thighs with his hands. “Just want to taste you, baby”
He began to kiss your thighs, making you squirm underneath him. His kisses were wet and hot, but they felt amazing. He slowly worked himself to the place you needed him most. He placed a kiss on your covered cunt, taking his hand and hooking it to your underwear, slowly bringing it down your legs. 
You could feel the cool air on your pussy, causing you to moan. Before you could even react fully, he licked a strip on your folds, making you moan. “Fuck baby, you just keep tasting better and better, can’t get enough of your delicious cunt.” 
He began to dive into your pussy like a man starved, placing a finger on your clit while he worked in and out of your hole. You moaned and brought your hand to his hair. “Want you to sit on my face, can you do that baby?” You nodded, you had never done it before scared that you were somehow going to hurt him, but he looked at you with his pleading eyes. 
You couldn’t say no to him, it looked like he wanted to do it more than you. You got up, allowing him to lay down underneath you. He rid himself of his clothes first, the only piece of clothing on his body being his boxers. You placed your hands on the headboard as he lay underneath you, grabbing your things with his hands. 
“I have a pretty big nose you know, and it’s perfect for this.” Before you could even giggle at what he said, he began to eat your cunt out. His nose was rubbing against your clit, causing you to moan out his name.
“Fuck, so good Channie, so good, you feel so good.” He moaned in response, the vibrations being sent through your hole and to your core. His tongue was hitting that spot inside of you, making you feel wonders. You didn’t think you could stay up any longer. “Feels good baby?” He spoke into you, causing you to moan even louder. “So good, can’t control myself”
“It’s okay baby, get off on my face, cum all over it baby please.” You moaned, he took one of his fingers, adding extra stimulation to your clit, causing you to cum all over his face. He kept going, over-stimulating you. “Fuck baby, you taste so good, can’t wait to taste you for the rest of our lives. 
“Please Channie, need you, need your cock inside of me.” That was all Chan needed to flip you around. You were underneath him and you could still see your cum dripping off his face. He kissed you, his tongue entering your mouth, allowing you to taste your arousal on him. “Baby, I’m so excited for you to take my cock.” 
He took off his boxers, and let his dick slap his stomach. Chan’s size never seemed to surprise you, he was so big, but it was perfect. His cock was perfect for you, always hitting the specific spots inside you. “Give me a second baby, let me go get a condom” 
You stopped him, “Want it in me raw this time” You looked at him with your doe eyes. If looks could kill, Chan would be dead right now. He felt like he ascended to heaven right there and then. “Fuck baby, gonna fuck you so well then. You weren’t joking when you said you had a surprise for me.”  
He slowly entered his cock inside you, making the both of you moan at the same time. “Fuck princess, this pussy takes me so well, I’m so glad that this is going to be mine forever.” 
His cock was finally fully in you, he slowly began to fuck into you, already hitting that spongey part inside of you causing you to moan his name. “Fuck, so good Channie, you feel so good.” 
He kissed your lips again, you both weren’t fucking, you were making love. He started thrusting inside you faster as you wrapped your legs around him. It was your signal to him that you wanted more, that you wanted to be drilled into the bed, and that’s exactly what he did. 
You were both moaning, your pussy clenching around him and his cock throbbing inside of you. You both were close, your moans becoming more and more as his grunts became louder. “Want to cum with you okay princess” you just nodded, “want you to cum in me Chris”
That was exactly what you both needed to cum over the edge. His cock came inside of you, your walls covered in his cum as your walls milked him dry. The both of you lay like this for what felt like hours until he spoke up. “Let me clean you up”
You allowed him to, he picked you up after he drew a bath for the both of you. 
“What was that surprise you wanted to give me?” he asked as you guys finally got back into bed. “You will find out in the morning,” you said kissing his lips before the both of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. 
You woke up to hear screaming outside your room. “There is a puppy at our door!” you heard him shout from your shared bedroom. He ran into the room. “This was the surprise?” he grinned, his smile spread from ear to ear. “We have to start our family some way?” you said. He stared at the dog in awe, petting behind his ears. 
“What should I name you, huh?” he said in a baby voice. “I’m thinking wolfie, he kind of looks like a wolf, and you. That’s why I got him.” 
He came over, pecking kisses all over your face. “I love you y/n” 
“I love you too Chris” 
taglist: @sclassstay @minhosify @brooklynie
739 notes · View notes
papersirens · 6 months
Text
Forbidden Fruit
Tumblr media
-ˋˏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀғᴀʙ / ᴀᴏ3 ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ / ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ / ᴡᴄ: 3199 ˏˋ-
Tumblr media
Warnings: Stepcest (step-sibling incest), mentions of masturbation, day dreaming of masturbation and sexual acts, awkwardness ig?, dubious consent, fingering, handjobs, dirty talk
AN: Happy JJK day this has been an idea in my word doc for months now and finally wrote it hehe bby looked so good in todays ep im crying also this was SO self indulgent i love incest fics also tagging @yuujispinkhair @dilftaros SORRY u guys showed interest idk how this works <3
Tumblr media
18+ Blog only! Minors DNI!
You don’t ever realise it, but Megumi is always watching you around the house. Sat on the couch with a book in his lap, those green eyes aren’t always on the pages before him. Not once did you ever notice the times where it would take him a while to turn the page, or when he would silently leave the room in a rush and slam his bedroom door shut. The summers were when he couldn’t seem to keep his hand off of his dick; constantly erect and giving in to his self indulgence, fucking into his fist at the visual of you in the smallest pairs of shorts you can find in the store. The imagery of your pussy lips pressing through your pretty purple shorts had him short circuiting. Knowing you weren’t wearing any panties beneath them, seeing the imprint of your cunt as you bend over in front of him, practically begging him to look at you. 
He can’t stop thinking about it, no matter how much he tries to remind himself you’re his step sibling and this is wildly inappropriate. Disgustingly enough, the relationship between you only makes his cock throb harder whenever he thinks about it. Megumi feels like a teenager still; a thirteen year old who’s just discovered masturbating and fantasises about real people in his life. The sickness he feels for himself only fuels him more, always cumming harder when he thinks of you. 
Megumi is barely asleep when there’s a quiet knock on his door, though you don’t wait for his response before coming in. It’s a terrible habit he hates you have, especially when he’s touching himself to the thought of you with a pillow over his face to muffle his noises. Peeking an eye open, his chest softens when he can just about see you in the darkness, your familiar frame creeping in through the door. 
“I had a nightmare,” you whisper, unsure if he was awake or not. 
It’s not uncommon for you to seek comfort from your step brother whenever you’ve had a nightmare or even if you’re not feeling good. Your mom is pretty distant and self soothing only helps you so much; since Megumi and his dad moved in, you became close with him and found he was your perfect source of company. Standing at the edge of the bed, Megumi groaned low as a response to show you he’s awake. His sheets were warm and comfy, his presence already soothed your aching heart from the nightmare you had. 
A lot of people would likely consider this strange behaviour – blood related or not. You’re considered siblings but at the same time, entirely unrelated. If your mom and his dad broke up, the title of step siblings would be lost between you, becoming just friends again. You kept to your side of the generous single bed and he kept to his, turning to lay on his back with a deep and tired breath. 
“What was your nightmare?” 
Normally you’d be fine talking about it; Megumi laughing and telling you it was just a bad dream and none of those things can or will ever happen. This time you don’t want to dig up the memories that linger, “I don’t really wanna talk about it.” 
You curl up into yourself a little more, laying on your side to face Megumi and nuzzle into the small portion of pillow you’re granted. It’s silent as Megumi thinks and tries not to pop a boner. You’ve come into his room plenty of times – why tonight is he struggling to stop the churning pleasure building in his gut? 
“Saw a dog outside the bookstore today,” he began quietly, corners of his lips upturning when he could hear your smile in the darkness. “Looked like our old dog.” 
“Brutus?” Megumi’s dad, Toji, had named it.
He nods, you feel it more than see it. “Yeah.” 
“Oh my god,” a giggle came from you that made Megumi’s heart ache, “Maybe he never left us, what – six months ago?” He hums and the conversation helps keep his erection at bay. “I can’t believe we didn’t have him for long before losing him. Wish I was there to see the dog.” 
Then it drops there, leaving Megumi unsure what else to say or any topic to talk about as his mind continues to drift towards you. You’ve shared a bed before, both fully clothed, not even touching each other in any way under the covers. And yet his fingers twitch, shifting his hips as though he was uncomfortable while his cock grows in his pyjama pants. Think of a topic; talk about something else, stop thinking about you sitting on his cock in the moonlight.
“Do you ever touch yourself?” 
The horny brain never left him, leaving Megumi to bite his lip and squeeze his eyes shut tightly, hoping that you had fallen asleep in the silent lul between you. 
“What?”
His mind won't stop; having you in all positions, thinking of you touching yourself, the visual of you spread out on his bed with fingers in your sopping cunt. You’re right next to him and it’s like he’s lost control of himself, clutching his shirt where his hands rest across his stomach, trying to stop himself from touching you or his cock. Never before has he felt such intense arousal like this, something where he can’t control what he’s doing or saying. Your silence was deafening, convinced you could hear his heavy breathing as your own mind swirled with confusion.
“Megumi,” your tone was firm and it only made him ache more, “What the fuck was that question?”
You’ve always seen Megumi as a step brother, if not an actual brother sometimes; arguing about petty things, wrestling each other to get the last piece of sushi, crying to him when a boy broke up with you and Megumi quietly threatening to kill them over it. He’s been your rock for most things since your parents got together, so such an intimate question being thrown your way is jarring. 
The boy in question can feel your burning stare in the darkness, unable to will himself invisible or turn back time to lock his bedroom door and demand isolation for himself. It was bound to happen someday with the way he touched himself so much to the thought of you; the fear of gaining an erection whenever he saw you was becoming a reality. 
There’s only three ways he can go from here; gaslight you into hearing things and hoping you fall for it, ignoring you for the rest of his life while trying to convince his bull-headed dad to leave your mom, or roll with what he said and hope you don’t tell anyone no matter the outcome. 
Megumi shrugs, the first sign of life in what feels like hours of silence and your heart races for an answer. “Do you?” A beat goes by, your mouth ajar in shock and disbelief at what you’re hearing. “I do.” 
You click your mouth shut, audible in the quiet room. There’s a lump in your throat that won’t let you speak – unsure what you’d even say, honestly. This isn’t a conversation you want or should be having, but morbid curiosity is beginning to get the better of you as thoughts slowly crawl into your mind. Visuals of Megumi touching himself; something of which you always guessed he did, but never gave it any thought to before now. Like an out of body experience, your vision was glazed over in the dark with the thought of Megumi laid on his bed touching himself; hand running along his generous length, slick noises coming from the movement, rough moans and groans as he did so. Your mouth waters and you almost begin drooling from your thoughts. 
This was insane. 
“I don’t–” You begin, taking a deep breath and physically shaking the thoughts from your mind. “I don’t want to hear about you touching yourself, Gumi.” 
The use of his nickname you fondly use was a good sign, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he pushes you further. A seed had been planted like he hoped, like he risked and his hands continued to dig into the fabric of his shirt to keep himself under control. 
“Are you going to answer my question?” 
No. No! You shouldn’t. He’s your step brother, this is not an appropriate topic and you should be feeling uncomfortable. However, the only discomfort you feel is the rapid beat of your heart in excitement and the throb between your legs as the vision of a sweaty and panting Megumi refuses to release you. Rubbing your thighs together, you watch Megumi in the darkness, hints of the pale moonlight hitting his face. 
You purpose your lips before mumbling, “Yes, I do.” 
Megumi turns onto his side to face you, a little closer than you expected and opens his eyes again. Without missing a beat, he asks “What do you think about?” 
A scoff and a groan, you bury your face into the pillow beneath you. “Megumi, I’m not answering any more questions. Let me go to sleep.” 
He furrows his brows, arms still wrapped around his middle to keep himself in check. “If you don’t want to talk to me, just go back to your room.” Megumi didn’t want you to go, and he hoped his nonchalant demeanour would make you stay. “You’re the one who had a nightmare and came in here. I’m trying to help by talking to you.” 
You know he’s right, albeit in an inappropriate and very wrong way. The nightmare was long gone, replaced with thoughts that create a fire in your core and have you savouring the scent of his bedsheets. Cracking open an eye, you look at him peering over at you. It was a dare; you wouldn’t leave his room. 
And you didn’t – rolling your eyes with a huff, you quietly responded, “This is not a conversation we should be having as siblings, it’s inappropriate.” 
“I’m your step brother, we aren’t related.” You don’t respond or move, silent in the darkness. He was growing impatient, erratic as he flexed his fingers still wrapped around him. “I’m just curious what you think about when you touch yourself.” 
“If I tell you, will you let me sleep?” Megumi hums in affirmation, biting his lip in anticipation. “Usually I think of someone else touching me; a celebrity I like or just, whoever pops into my head at first.” 
The mattress moves as you feel Megumi move in front of you, unfurling his arms as he whispers “Like this?” 
Your body jumps at the feel of his hand on your breast, scared to move and shocked into place. His hand was big, covering your mound just the way you like, squeezing gently as he does so. Massaging the tissue and rolling his thumb over your already hard nipple, you can hear him inhale quietly. Megumi doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he plays with your chest. 
“Uh, yeah, kinda,” you swallow thick and take a breath. “Touching my chest, kissing my neck.” 
A gasp leaves your lungs when Megumi leans over, body pressed against yours and soft, warm lips on your neck. There’s a prominent hardness pressing against your thigh that makes your mouth dry, unsure of what to do with your hands. It feels like a fever dream, like you never woke up from that nightmare before – although, you wouldn’t necessarily call this a nightmare. The lingering idea that this is wrong was stuck to the back of your mind, a quiet reminder that was overshadowed by how good it felt. Precise and purposeful kisses were planted on your neck, before Megumi became brave and sucked the skin between his lips. 
“Eventually I– Uh, fuck,” this was wrong this was so fucking wrong. “I would, uhm, touch myself – rub my clit.” 
As you anticipated, the hand on your breasts travelled down your body and between your legs. Megumi’s hands were warm on your lower belly where your shirt had ridden up, your own hand clutching onto the fabric covering his body. The noise you made was cute when he touched your clit through your panties; a gasp that gave a hint to a moan, a sweet sound he needs to hear again. Rubbing the fabric under his finger, Megumi manages to push through your lower lips and reach your clit, underwear already practically sopping wet. He isn’t one to judge when there’s likely an embarrassing stain of precum on the front of his boxers. 
Gaining confidence, he moves his hand beneath your underwear and attacks your clit directly, the noise you made was louder and surprised the both of you. As pretty as it was, there were still both of your parents in their room nearby. Using his free hand to slap over your face a little harder than intended, he continued to slowly run the pad of his finger along your bundle of nerves. The last thing either of you need is to be caught doing something like this. 
Adrenaline coursed through both of you at the act already. Your chest heaved with breaths, moans muffled by his hand and quiet enough not to cause concern. Megumi watched you in the dark and wished to see you, a burning desire to know if the faces you made were the same as those in his fantasies. He remained in this position, laying on his side with his cock brushing against your thigh, a hand under your panties rubbing your clit, leaning on his elbow with the same hand across your mouth and holding you tight. 
“I think about you when I touch myself.” 
It was a confession that felt amazing to let out, all his inner demons released and the weight they bare was gone instantly. You, however, were surprised by such a confession. With your hands on his wrist to keep yourself grounded, hips rutting into his hand for more, you still gave a high pitched squeal in surprise at such admittance. The idea of Megumi touching himself over you, your own step brother, was frustratingly hot. Your core burned hotter and eyes rolling as you squeezed his arm tighter. 
Megumi is almost breathless with how aroused he is, head spinning in a horny cloud that he can’t think of anything but you. “I touch myself imagining it’s you; your hand rubbing my dick.” 
You were also in such a state of euphoria that you didn't realise you’d released his arm in favour of pawing at his pyjama pants. Mimicking what he had done to you by following his descriptor, you hooked fingers beneath the waistband of his pants and pulled his hard cock out. It was his turn to gasp and moan, deep and low in his throat like you thought, heavy silk sitting in your hand so well that it makes your hole clench. 
“I think about how pretty you are, how good you would look beneath me.” Megumi moves his hand further down and slides his finger towards your hole, easily slinking inside as you melt under his touch. “Or how good you’d look on top of me.” 
It was becoming harder to hide your moans behind his hand, louder than you can control as you moved to open your legs and give him better access, laying on your back but keeping your head in place and hands on his cock. Megumi was so hot and heavy in your hands, foreskin moving with every stroke and using his never ending precum to lube your hand. 
“Every time I think about being deep enough inside of you that you can’t breathe.” 
A loud gasp came from Megumi, something that caught both of you off guard as you twisted your wrist at his head; this time, your hand moved to clamp over his mouth. Your eyes remained locked on one another in the low light, convinced you could see one another and not be guided on hand motions alone. Another finger slides into your hole and your back arches against the bed, a cry of his name lost behind his hand. 
Megumi continues finger fucking you, savouring every moment of it; the way your walls feel around him, every little whimper and whine that can be heard, the clicking of your juices creating bubbles with each move of his hand. Meanwhile, your own hand pumped his cock like your life depended on it. Back and forth you twist and move your hand in ways that had him weak at the knees, rutting his hips in time with your hand, desperate to be inside of you and hear every little whisper you have to offer him. 
You came first and Megumi hasn’t felt anything so good in his life; the way your walls flutter around his fingers, the wetness of slick surrounding him, hot breath on the palm of his hand and your sharp exhales on the back. With your moans muffled behind his hand, you kept going and pumping his cock the same speed as before, Megumi leaving his fingers inside of you just a little bit longer. A few more strokes before he’s releasing too, strings of hot cum landing on your shirt and arm as a result. 
The post-nut clarity kicked in for you first, tentatively removing your hand from him first and leading the way for him to follow. Megumi hoped with the removal of his hand you would say something nice; thanks, hope to do that again, you were great – even just his name would be enough right now. He feels like you’re a timid animal, unsure of what to do or where to go from here with you. 
“I’m going back to my room.” You mumble and hurriedly stumble away, leaving Megumi with a whirlwind of emotions he doesn’t want to have to deal with. 
He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe; a constant state of regret and elation that he was able to touch you. A dream he’d had for a few months now, something he desperately wanted and now he’s got it, he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel. Fear dominated him as he wondered if you were going to tell one of your parents – likely your mom, if anyone. There’s nothing he can do but wait and replay the feeling over and over again in his head, a ghostly sensation of your cunt around his fingers and hands on his cock. 
Megumi avoids you the next day, giving you space on purpose and not willing to dare look in your direction for fear of catching your eye. Toji had just left and your mom had gone away earlier in the morning, leaving the pair of you alone in the house. It’s not uncommon, but Megumi intended to keep to himself still. 
That is until his bedroom door suddenly bursts open, making him jump with surprise and hum in shock against your lips as you jump him on the bed. Finally, he was able to hear your moans without obstruction and they were even better than what he dreamt of when touching himself.
Tumblr media
@enchantedforest-network ♡ @planetonet
bonus:
Tumblr media
765 notes · View notes