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tarjapearce · 6 months

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Dr. Michael Stone

Mad Scientist variant! Miguel O'Hara x Spider!f! Reader

art by @Spiderthingcoo on X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Smut, Breeding Kink, Mild dub-con, Oral sex (F receiving), possessive behaviors, rough electroplay, Questionable morals, Dark Miguel, manhandling, yandere scientist (I guess?) P in V, isolation, edging, female anatomy, Nipple play, dumbification, Michael Stone is a walking redflag. No proofread, objectification, power play.

Summary: From all the variants of Miguel you could've encountered, you met him.

A|N: Inspired by @Spiderthingcoo and Halloween ✨

Pt. 2

Clink

The sound repetitive and echoing in your hazy mind, luring you out of the slumber you had been forced to. Eyes heavy with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

A sharp inhale gave you enough courage to part your lids enough to reckon your surroundings. Blurry and wet eyesight slowly came into a focus and clear view of where you were. A lab.

How had you ended up here? Where was Miguel? Why wasn't Lyla making fun of your passing?

The explosion, of course.

A weakened groan escaped past dry and chapped lips, while your mind tried to recollect and organize the memories it created before going on a blackout.

The mission was simple, try and track the anomaly. Rhino. But the villian wasn't up for dialogue and had sent you flying against a wall, damaging your watch. Miguel had promised to fix it once you were back at HQ.

But the damage had been severe enough to not only electrocute you, but to cause an explosion within the already open portal. A boom powerful enough to throw you out of the current timeline and swallow you into another one, much to Miguel's distress. And then, nothing.

Pure black darkness.

Pristine white walls elegantly dressed with technology you had never seen before. The machine whirrings and hummings kept your eyes wandering from one extreme to another, trying to find anything that would be out of place. To your dismay, nothing indicated to be in such state.

Except for one thing.

Sitting in a simple chair, was a man clad in white, blending in with his environment. If it wasn't for his titanium rimmed glasses and their reflection, his tan skin and a very familiar looking face, he'd go undetected under your radar.

But your ever trusting spider senses alerted you of his presence. His red eyes bore into you, stalking, awaiting; preying. Impassiveness and stoicism plastered on his beautiful face.

A glacial chill ran down your spine.

"M-Miguel?" You rasped in the admist of your drowsiness

The man's eye glinted, dangerous and curious as he stood. His hair wavy and silky, graciously slicked back, His smirk deepened as he walked right before you, watching you with such marvel it made your breath hitch.

"Michael." The Boss' doppelganger corrected.

A stupor spreaded through your legs. Your arms had gone numb long ago. Another late realization as you looked at your limbs, expanded and trapped in the metal contraption, like a crucifix. Your legs remained separated, toes barely touching the floor and completely bare before him.

Panic rose as he placed a white gloved and immaculate hand on your cheek. Miguel was always speaking about the variants of the villains that he often forgot to mention about his own.

This one in particular was one to be extremely wary of. Dr. Michael Stone, acknowledged son of Tyler Stone, the CEO of Alchemax. A scientist obsessed with the spider DNA his team had recollected many years ago.

"Dr. Michael Stone, Mike for the friends."

He cupped your face and kissed you deeply. Tongue sweeping on your trembling mouth, taking a taste of you. He let you go with an appreciative hum. His thumbs pressed on your now glistening lips to pry them open, taking a glance on your teeth. Your breath fanned his face as he explored your mouth with his thumbs initially.

"Healthy breath and teeth, no fangs, sadly" the doctor mumbled to himself while catching your tongue in between his thumb and index finger, pulling it enough to examinate it's length.

You whimpered at the pain. Saliva escaping your mouth, which he collected quickly in a little glass vial. His fingers typed in the data in a holo-pad that materialized next to him.

His face was deranged, a soft blush crept on his sharp cheeks. He had stumbled upon a gold mine.

The drowsiness had left your body entirely, fear and nausea replacing it. Modesty or shame weren't in Michael's vocabulary. Nipples perked at the cool air that invaded the lab.

He brought a little table with several pieces of something he had been tinkering with.

"Your little contraption seems something too advanced for people in your world. Sadly the damage is too great to salvage something."

He displayed the now burnt pieces of the watch, pieces you supposed were the core of its functioning.

"For how long have you been a mutant?"

"Years." Voice meek, he nodded as he kept typing away, without looking much your direction, too deep in the screen and the data displaying on it.

"Is there any others like me?"

You gulped. Your brief silence had been enough answer for him.

"I see." His grin turned into a devious chuckle, "I suppose there is one of me that is like you, isn't it?"

Upon hearing no answer of you, he pressed a button, where a sudden electricity jolt coursed through your body. Earning him a pained yelp from you.

"I don't appreciate your silence, cariño. Now, when was the last time your period came?"

Your body lingered in unpleasant waves of the shocking aftermath. Soft breaths turned into short and shallow pants, anger rising again.

"I don't remember" You admitted curtly and uncomfortable by the direction the interrogation was taking course.

"Have you had children before?"

The question made you blink stupidly at him while sneered at your reaction and cleared his throat. Keeping at bay the ominous thoughts already forming in his wicked brain.

"N-No." You mumbled and his lips pursed in a wolfish grin it sent an ill feeling through your chest. Your brain's danger alarms flared, begging you to run away as fast as you could. But how such thing would be achieved when you were nearly T qposing, naked, before a man that had everything but good intentions with you.

"There's always a first." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. The hidden promise in his words had you struggling against your prison but it stopped as he sent another electric jolt through your body.

You groaned both painfully and annoyed in between raged pants.

"Let me go! " He could only cackle at your waning order.

"But why would I do such thing, cariño?" His fingers tracing the slope of your jaw, "Not when I have found the perfect vessel for my lineage to develop."

Heart thumped wildly on your chest, threatening to escape up your throat.

"P-Please, let me go."

Something dern recoiled in his eyes, pleading was futile, even though he loved the way you pronounced such words.

"Can't do. In fact, I think production should start right away."

He beamed and your heart sunk. Hopefully Miguel caught your signal before the gizmo was broken for good. Attention snapping on a pair of eyes that danced around your body. He licked his lips while loosening his tie. His glasses were removed.

Your chest heaved with anxiety, but he kneeled before you, pushing your outer folds away to reach the forbidden prize he was set in devouring, your clit. It twitched and contracted when his thumb stroked it softly. Michael didn't waste time and sunk himself between your thighs.

"N-No!" You panted while trying to squeeze his head away from your thighs, but his grip was steely. His tongue assaulted your cunt with such intensity it had you clenching your jaw and panting within seconds.

Strong and moist muscle dribbled down your pussy, teasing around your quivering hole. His plump lips captured your little nub of nerves in between them, to then apply pressure within strong sucking motions. Your hips bucked, nearly melting at the powerful sensations the scientist dragged you to.

The slick of your labia increased making his motions smoother, vicious and wet. You could feel him resting his head on your lower belly as his mouth ate you like a starved man. A lap here, a dribbling up and down there and it had your mouth gaping open.

"Fuck" You tried to lurch forward but the upper restrictions on your limbs could only allow much movement. Your head heavy with lust blown and fearful thoughts, making it loll side to side, shaking off the pleasure that crawled all the way up, trying to fog your judgment completely.

The goal however was accomplished when his tongue delved in your hole, fucking it with such expertise it had your breath slurred and blown from your lungs.

His moist muscle curled, coiled and slurped at your cunt. Twirling and gathering your juices in his mouth. As dangerous as he was, Michael seemed a connoisseur of the female anatomy. And he ate like a starved man, like his life and investigation depended on it.

Your head was thrown back, just like your eyes in their sockets. Breaths turned erratic when his hands squeezed the round of your breast. Maneuvering your perky nipples a little too rough. He pinched, pulled and slapped them, matching the merciless pace of his assailant lips.

Teeth ground together, jaw clenched and trapping in the moans he rightfully had earned. Your hands managed to fist in the admist of the numbness they had been subdued to.

His tongue ventured deeper with moist and gulping movements, the tip of his nose buried in your pubic mound, keeping you in place from squirming too much, chasing that relief that would bring you a bit of peace to your tortured cunt. Heat pooled in his mouth, pressure tightening, edging you to an endless and dangerous spiral of tempting corruption.

A strangled whine came off your throat as he stopped and looked up at you. Darkened pupils wide, absorbing the red iris upon the sight of you.

Perfect, beatific even.

You were the perfect vessel for him. Lips flushed in need, exhaling the stimulation out of your system. A rapturous expression on your face, like a virgin that had been worshipped, and he was the chosen one to corrupt such grimace. His tie was removed completely and tossed somewhere.

With a tap of the holo-pad, your restrains were loosened, and you fell on the floor with a thud. A little groan as your body made contact with the cold tiles, blood rushing back to your limbs, leaving a prickling sensation all the way down your hands, awakening them.

As much as you hated to admit that you had enjoyed it, the rational side of you took control again, urging you to an attempt of escape while you crawled on your fours. Your suit had been discarded on one of the trash bins.

A strong hand grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you towards him, wobbly and feeble legs trembled at the forced attempt of standing up, only for your torso to be slammed against a nearby metal table. Air knocking out of your lungs with a 'oomph'

"You are going nowhere."

Despite the overall nerd-ish look, he was strong. Strong and big enough to pin your arms effortlessly before you, to then place a pair of metallic hoops on your wrist that instantly adhered at the table. Magnetic handcuffs, of course.

Breast flattened against the metal, unruly strands of hair obscured your sight, his agitated breath fanning over the crook of your neck. Rear was positioned in the perfect pose to expose both your holes. Pussy glistening with a mix of his saliva and your own slick.

"Marvelous. We are about to create the Opus Magna of my investigation. Aren't you excited, bonita?"

Your ears perked ominously at the unbuckling and fumbling of his pants.

"You have no idea how long I've awaited for a chance like this." His flushed tip rubbed between your folds, coating himself before aligning to your drenched hole. He tittered while taking a vice like grip on your hips and with a sudden motion, he buried inch by inch inside your gummy and sticky walls.

"Miguel!" You cried as he sheathed to the hilt, stretching you a bit past your limits. Fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled back with force. Granting him a pathetic yelp from you.

"Michael." He growled into your ear, "I am no bound by weaknesses unlike that defective copy of mines. But don't you worry..."

His tone venomous, "I'll make you learn my name one way or another." He slid a hand around your neck and squeezed a whimper out of you, "You're here to stay after all."

Callous fingers slid back to your hips, groping and grounding himself before he pushed in. A strangled moan came before air was cut short again by his firm and deep thrusting, allowing you to adjust enough to his girth. It was scary how perfect he fit inside, reinforcing his belief you were made specially for him and the explosion had been the catalyst for his plan to build a superior form of being, set in track.

Not only had he been granted a subject he had been chasing for nearly a decade, but now, he couldn't just study you, but also impregnate you. And what a better coincidence when you were reaching your most fertile days. Or so the data had dictated, and data didn't lie.

"With me." A deep cackle erupted from his mouth as an onslaught of merciless thrust were delivered between your supple and plump glutes, making them jiggle at his rutting.

A garbled and shaky moan escaped your lips, eyes wide at the core shaking pace he had settled. Toes curled and your hands fisted against the metallic handcuffs, trying to anchor yourself once more to something as the table creaked violently underneath both. The pressure on your clit increased as his balls slapped it, sending jolts through your body.

Your cunt received him with an obsence slurp, swallowing him whole over and over, hole moulded to his thick shaft, leaving you empty every time he slid out, only to be refilled impossibly deep with a pitiless plow.

You were a mewling and wailing mess underneath his formidable frame. Torso rock hard, just like the throbbing cock inside your snug and drenched pussy.

The room and you were the only witnesses of his borderline animalistic growls and snarls, set into his goal to fill you to the brim the times he saw it fit. After all, no experiment was successful without trial and error.

All you could hear was the rough slapping of your flesh melding together in a rough display of power where he indisputably had the upper hand.

Fire licked at every inch of your skin, tears prickled at the corner of your eyes, blurring your sight with overstimulation. He gave you no time to properly breath, too lost in wrecking your cunt to care, enraptured in the thrill your flesh offered him.

A firm slap on your jiggling ass granted him a choked wail, one of the few indicators you still remained conscious and holding it together. He frowned.

It wasn't enough, he wanted nothing more than your ruin. Having you subdued to him, both in mind and body. Stubborn nature couldn't just leave you fucked physically. The need to possess you in all it's wholeness took over him. You'd be his, and if he had to face his counterpart to keep you by his side, then so be it.

Michael stilled for a moment, giving you precious seconds to catch a much needed breath. He removed the lab coat and shirt, exposing his sweaty and well sculpted torso. Your legs trembled, your brain buzzed with all sort of sensations, the metal fogged with every deep breath you gave against it, if it wasn't for the restrains in your wrist, you'd certainly be on the floor, since your legs were giving up in supporting you.

A little drool streak escaped the corner of your lips, connecting to the space underneath you. Your hair was pulled back with a mild yank, forcing your spine to arch. The Fibonacci sequence would draw perfectly in the curvature of your flexible spine. One of the many perks of being a spiderwoman.

His frame swallowed you once more as he propped your right thigh on the table, granting him more access to delve in deeper into you.

" Ohmygod" you howled at how full and deep your insides were. He smirked at your words, "I can't... I can't-"

"You are more than capable of taking me, pequeña." A deep thrust and he had you sobbing, "Don't disappoint me now."

He rasped in blown inhales.

Your brain was melting just like your body. Instead of unceasing and swift slaps of flesh, steady and rhythmic plunges filled in the void space. Your mouth did nothing but nonsensical gabbling. Occasionally praising him with a coherent lewd curse or a whine.

Eyelids drooped a bit too low as your mouth went completely ajar, exhaling weakly. The weight of his frame pressing against you, slotting perfectly on your back. His hips dug into yours remorselessly, then you felt his arm hooking underneath your lower belly in a possessive embrace, letting the once punished breasts to bounce freely as he pounded relentlessly into you.

The second he skimmed on your tender skin, your body went taut and your brain shut off for a second, overheated by the mind shattering orgasm crashing over you. Only then your body was allowed to go limp on his arms, but that didn't stop him from giving a few more core shaking thrusts before emptying himself inside you. Flooding your womb with his hot load.

"Mi...Michael-" You croaked almost imperceptibly at the canvas he was making out of your insides.

Oh the joy of knowing he'd have a superior offspring made his wicked brain tingle. A malicious laugh escaped him upon admiring your current state. Fucked out and full of him, to the brim like he had promised. Michael Stone was a man of word.

When he had poured the last drop of cum inside, he pulled out to pick himself up. Underwear and pants secured back on his waist. His discarded lab coat covered his upper frame once more, body too heated to keep adding layers of clothing. He released the handcuffs off your wrist and caught you before your body slumped on the floor.

He rewarded your outlasting with a deep yet brief smooch, which you recoiled from. It didn't matter. You'd learn to tolerate his presence soon enough.

His arms carried you like a ragdoll. A doll that somehow still refused to be tamed, adding more dry bones to the raging obsession fire. You struggled from his grip but he didn't budge, a cruel laugh met you instead as he waltzed you to an empty room. Naked with jelly-like legs that didn't cooperate, angry and fearful and powerless.

He tossed you onto the bed and marched back towards the entrance. Proud of your lack of strength to retaliate and cunt full of his cum. His seed would do it's job soon enough. He had waited years, a bit more won't hurt him.

The thought of your belly rounding up with his child made his deep gaze to lock on you over his shoulder for a moment.

"Welcome to my world, querida." His cheeks spreaded in a wicked smirk before disappearing into the light, locking you out from freedom and hope.

Darkness drowned you, like his obsession. Dr. Michael Stone had finally achieved a breakout in his investigation. And he had no intentions of letting you go. Not until you produced the many heirs he had in mind.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Miguelverse #miguel o'hara smut #Spiderman 2099 smut #atsv smut #t writes✨#Michael Stone AU #dark!miguel o'hara

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yoyokalicent · 3 months

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soon you will be mine, oh, but i want you now.

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

summary: you're felix's favorite girl, you had been since you were young. what happens when you're all he needs?

warnings: cursing, mentions of fucking and alcohol, felix is a freak and in love with his best friend.

a/n: this little fic is based off fallingforyou by the 1975 bc its arguably one of their most heartbreakingly good songs so!! (lyrics in bold)

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i'm so excited for the night all we need's my bike and your enormous house

the strobe lights were almost blinding as you search the large house for felix. felix, who all but got on his knees to beg you to accompany him to the house party you now wander around aimlessly.

"princess!" you barely hear felix over the booming sound of music being pumped through every speaker in the house, "lost you for a minute there, you ok?"

his hand finds yours immediately walking with you toward the sliding glass doors, "just need some air, fi."

"me too, i'll go with you." i'll go anywhere with you, he means.

his hand leaves yours and felix can't help the bout of disappointment he feels in the pit of his stomach, wishing he could hold your hand just a little longer.

felix watches you intently as you open the door with the hand that not long ago was occupied his own, and once the door is open enough for you to exit your hand slots right into his own.

"do you have a cig?" what a stupid question, you see he has a full pack in his back pocket, you don't know is that he wants to share one with you, to see the red smudges of your lipstick around the end of it before he takes a drag of his own.

"f'course." you rake your hands through your black handbag, the handbag he purchased for you while his family was on holiday in paris. once you pull out your worn pack of cigarettes you follow up with your light pink lighter, "hm?"

it was your signal for him to light it for you, he takes the lighter out of your hands and cups a hand around your lips, lighting the cigarette for you. maybe its the drinks, the cups of liquor you had poured for him making his head spin, or maybe it was you, the thought of you being his one day. just one day, but he wants you now.

after your long drag you pass the cigarette to him, blowing out the smoke and looking out toward the backyard where friends were dancing, and lovers were making out in the dark corner by the trees.

"i've always loved nights like this, its so easy." you say, reaching your hand back out for the cigarette.

"me too, fun." he responds, as you flick the ends of the cigarette and watch the ashes fall onto the concrete, "always have fun with you, princess."

the nickname fell from his lips easily, something he had called you since you were a princess on halloween in grade school, never failing to pick on you for it.

"wanna get out of here?" felix asks looking for your confirmation, just wanting to be alone with you, not having to deal with farleigh's knowing glare.

"i do, fi. walk me back?" another stupid question, but this time coming from you, "or am i staying with you?"

"you'll stay with me, princess."

i'm caught on your coat again you said, "oh no, it's fine"

the weather in oxford was completely contradictory to felix's mood. the grey sky with icy winds had no comparison for the light reflecting from his smile. he was sat in some dingy diner (somewhere that only you could get him to step foot into) waiting for the check with you beside him.

he completely rejected your idea of sitting across from him, arguing that, "i haven't seen you in ages, why would i want you to be anywhere but my side?"

your lips were wrapped around the straw of the strawberry milkshake you swore you needed, shamefully felix can't help but think about your lips. the way they break into a smile, the way they sing your favorite songs, the way they'd look wrapped around him.

you're his best friend for goodness sake.

"fi?"

fuck the thinks, "princess."

"do you think we could go to the corner store? i wanted to get those crisps you like. i've been wanting them since the other night." you ask him with hesitation, as if he has ever denied you anything, as if he ever could.

"yep," felix pops his p, mirroring something you had always done, "quite a walk, sure you want to in the cold?"

you take one last sip of your milkshake before responding, "i've got you to keep me warm, don't think that's enough?" he wraps his arm around you to pull you closer to him.

his silence is telling, for as long as you had known him he was never one for comfortable silence. but, with you he could sit for hours without talking, just to be with you.

once the check is payed, by felix, you are bouncing out of your seat, forgetting the jacket that was resting by the end of your back.

"forgetting something?" he holds the jacket up, opening it for your arms to slip into effortlessly.

before your hands have the chance to zip up your jacket his are working at the zipper, toward the middle of the jacket the zipper stops.

"huh?" he says, trying to find where it went wrong.

his mind is racing as he tries to find the flaw in your jacket, when he finds the culprit it almost warms his heart. the fringes of his own jacket were caught in the teeth of your own. a piece of himself was caught in a piece of you.

"sorry bout that, princess."

"oh, no s'fine." without hesitation he zips your jacket all of the way, not wanting to risk you catching a cold. going as far as to giving you his own scarf and putting your hood up for you.

"and what would i do without you?" you ask, hooking your arm in his own and resting your cheek on his bicep as you walk down the street.

"freeze, and possibly have to buy your own food."

feeling of your arms i don't want to be your friend, i want to kiss your neck

felix loved the feeling of your bed. the soft linens your mother had sent from southern italy, the fluffy blankets, firm pillows, the feeling of your arms wrapped around his waist with your head lodged between his shoulder blades.

he loved it, right now, he longed for it.

farleigh was next to him talking to some guy at the pub and all he could think about is what you were doing. felix truly tried his hardest to get you to go with them to the pub, but you swore up and down tonight was your night for rest and relaxation.

stupidly, so stupidly, felix thought he would have more fun at the pub entertaining girls he'd never go home with instead of entertaining you.

"wanna get out of here?" a girl asks, pawing at his chest. all he can do his feign disgust, why would he want to leave with anyone but you?

"no," he responds, and sees the look on her face drop, "thanks" his words are slurred and all he can do is think to count the drinks he's had. the liquor really has affected him, usually he has you mooching off of whatever he has in his cup.

but, not tonight.

"farleigh, i need to go." felix pats farleigh on the shoulder, signaling his leave of absence.

"tell princess i said hi." farleigh responds, mocking his nickname for you, and felix can only open and close his mouth with a nod. felix starts his walk out of the bar with a slight wave to farleigh.

the walk to your dorm was quick, and his legs moved in a brisk walk, quickly starting to border a jog. wanting to get to you, get into your shower, get into your bed as quick as possible.

he dodges groups of partygoers and their judgmental glares skillfully, if they knew what he was running to he's sure they wouldn't be looking at him the way they were.

he arrives at your dormitory and ditches the stuffy elevator that would take too long, he doesn't have time for waiting. his legs move up the stairs, slower this time. almost savoring in the excitement of seeing you.

the many cups have him thinking, what if he told you now? he waits in front of your door, waiting. not knocking, just thinking. thinking about happy he could make you. thinking about what he could do for you, what you could do for him.

just before his mind could catch up with his movements he's knocking on the door. reeling in what he could say to you, and then you open the door.

your hair is in your rollers, and your body is drowning in your light yellow nightgown. ignoring all signs of sleepiness you smile, "felix?"

"i do not want to be your mate." your smile immediately drops, and your eyes open wide, suddenly he wants to jump down the flight of steps he had just climbed.

"what the fuck, felix?"

"no, no, no, princess, not like that." his large hands take your face into them, so tightly that your cheeks are smushed together, not to hurt you, never to hurt you.

"then how felix? you come to me in the middle of night to tell me what?" your words are slurred to the grip he has on his face.

you can smell the whiskey radiating off of him, making this all the more confusing, his hands fall from your face to his sides, "i don't want to be your friend." he takes breath, a deep breath, "i wanna kiss your neck"

"huh?" you ask again, slowly getting at what he means, but needing him to say it. say what you had been thinking for the last year.

"there was a girl at the bar, and she wasn't ugly. at all. she wanted to go home with me-"

you cut him off, "felix."

"sorry. but, i didn't want to go with her, all i thought about was you. coming home to you, maybe even kissing you, hugging you, fucking yo-"

you cut him off again, "felix."

"i just-"

"you what, felix?"

"i really love you. i love you so much i only think of you, i only think about you so much i can't hear a song without thinking about you. i love you so much i've started to lose my mind! i love you so much, princess." his lips smash into yours, and you taste him. the whiskey, the mint lip balm, the cigarettes, you taste him.

you kiss him until his hands start to trail toward the end of your night gown, "can't give the neighbors a free show, fi."

"can't have them seeing what's mine."

your eyebrows raise teasingly, "yours?"

"you're mine princess, finally."

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton fanfiction #felix catton fluff #felix catton imagines #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #saltburn #saltburn fanfction #saltburn 2023

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angelisverba · 6 months

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praise

in which y/n notices something isn't quite right with her professor, and harry loves chasing this little bunny

word count: 5.5k

pairing: vamp!h and y/n (but really it's more like professor!h with a side of vampire)

warnings: this fic contains graphic depictions of sex and blood.

author's note: happy late halloween!

When y/n was little, her mother always told her to stay inside on Halloween.

She never got to go trick-o-treating like the other kids because of this, not until she was old enough to pay for her own costume, but by that time it was too late because trick-o-treating turned into bar hopping and candy turned into drinks. She took part in these activities for as long as it took for her to figure out that she didn't like alcohol or big crowds or dressing up.

Also by that time, many of the holidays took place around the time that she was stressing about papers and exams and midterms and other deadlines a college students faces around the end of the semester. She was a dedicated, busy little bee with few friends that knew her enough to know that when she's focused, theres no getting her to come out for anything, so they didn't even extend invites.

Which is why she finds herself inside, at the library, on Halloween night. She has a little ear worm of Linus writing his letter to the great pumpkin running around in her brain, but that's as far as her spooky spirit goes. The rest of it is consumed in her paper about sublime notions of nature in the latest gothic novel assigned by her literature professor, Mr. Styles.

Had it been any other teacher, she wouldn't have lingered so much on grammar, word choice, or reading her paper over and over again so that her ideas were clear and concise, but... but there was something about him. She can't really but her finger on it, but a big part of it is fear. Intimidation. He's so... commanding in the way that he carries himself. Almost menancing, his figure carrying the threat of punishment.

He walked into the lecture hall everyday dressed like a model from a vintage academia magazine. Tweed bottoms. Button up shirts. Loafers. Sleek black shoes. A pristine silver watch on his wrist. A golden chain that twinkled on his neck and disappeared into the collars of his shirts like a shooting star. Slicked back chocolate brown hair from which a single curl sometimes escaped and swayed on his forehead like the hooked tail of a monkey. Tailored pants that accentuated the litheness of his hips perfectly so, making her wonder if he had them altered to fit him exactly. A badge on a simple, black attachment pinned on his hip spelled his name underneath a coyly smirking ID picture of his face; Harry Styles.

So y/n had a little crush.

A silly little bundle of love-misted roses perched in her heart with a ribbon and a name tag that had her English professor’s name on it.

She tried to tell herself that it was a school girl’s crush (it literally was), but it was hard to keep her daydreams cemented underneath the rounded realm of reality when her heart kept reading into every single little interaction she had with him, knowing that all her fantasies would only ever exist in her dreams because he was an employee. He was older than her. He would never be interested in a girl, a student, like her. His serious disposition did nothing to quell her.

In fact, it almost egged her on. The perfectionist in her wanted to be perfect for him, so be praised by him for her hard work. She wanted so badly to be his teacher's pet that it reflected in her work ethic. Every paper she turned in was better than her last, she paid rapt attention in class, took the most intricate care in her notes. She always looked her best on the days she had his class- black ballet flats with black skirts, frilly socks, cardigans and collared blouses- ever the neat student. She's every professor's wet dream, she knows this.

Yet, the approval and validation that she craved. No, needed. The validation she needed from him was never given to her, no matter how hard she worked. The notes on her paper were always asking for more, she could do better, she could be more clear, she wasn't quite*getting it. And he always left a note that she should see him in his office hours.

But she couldn't.

Y/n was sure that she would spontaneously combust is she was in an enclosed one-on-one space with him. Which was funny because many of the female students fought for that time with him. One time she heard a few girls in her class say that they tried to call him by his first name and he told them that "it was Professor Styles or Sir to them". Just listening to it second hand was enough to have her squirming. The though it, to have his striking green eyes on only her, his gravely, accented voice directed at her. It was an intoxicating though.

She could imagine it.

He would sit on the other side of his desk in that suave way of his, ankle crossed at his knee, one hand resting on the arm of his chair while the other props his chin up as his finger taps against his sharp cheekbone. He would watch her with an unwavering, predatory gaze, like he's waiting for her to make a mistake to step in and correct her. Y/n would sit in the seat across from him, her hands under her thighs to keep from fidgeting, her lips wet with her spit from how much she'd chew on them, her eyes unfocused and struggling to keep contact with him. The silence in the room would probably be filled with her 'umm's and 'like'. She'd be so nervous, and he would see right through her, and all her hard work would be diminished to nothing.

And then she would probably cry and Professor Styles doesn't really look like the type to console his students, so y/n would just embarrass herself.

So she settles for putting her all into her work, tweaking what he's made notes on from previous papers, and hoping that it's enough, that one of these days she'll she exclamation points at the end of praise instead of at the end of 'explain this'.

With a weepy, overwhelmed sigh, y/n rubbed her fists into her eyes and ran words over and over again in her head. She was the last one in the library, the light from the lamp at her desk was the only source of illumination in her little study corner. This late into the semester the school didn't close libraries, opting to not get in the way of students and their work. It was nearing midnight, and she was getting tired, but this paper was due in two days and she wanted at least one to edit it.

A little delirious from lack of sleep and anger from how difficult this was all turning out to be, y/n blinked back tears. She was a little cold and she was hungry. But she was not going to leave until this paper was finished.

She would however close her eyes, just for a little while. Y/n put her head down on the desk, telling herself that she would only rest her eyes for a few minutes, that she was not going to fall asleep.

But like every college student that snoozes their alarm twenty million times because they're just going to rest their eyes for a few more minutes, she falls asleep.

She startles awake in the dark at the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

When she jerks upright, Professor Styles is sitting across from her, reading her paper.

***

Harry is so fucking hungry, and he's looking for a snack. Maybe even a meal if he can get away with it.

He hasn't fed in nearly a month, and normally even two weeks is pushing it. But it was the month of October, and as the holidays neared and the parties increased, so did security and people's guard. It was extra hard to find a bite now, not the kind he liked.

Sweet, pure, and innocent. Untainted flavor.

A few days ago he managed to snag a few blood bags from the campus' blood drive center, but it wasn't enough. He craved the puncture, the warmth of a body in his arms, the fresh throb of a pulse underneath his tongue. He wanted the erotic writhing of struggle and submission against his body. Many of his kind didn't share their fondness for this part, but he loved taking care of them afterwards. Making sure they were okay, steady. Sated in the same ways he was. Being a vampire came with the ability of glamour, a bit of mind influencing, so that he was able to make the situation a little more favorable on his end.

He had decided to go for a stroll, having been caught up late in his office grading papers, when he caught a hint of something sweet and familiar in the night air.

It reminded him of one his students, y/n.

She always sat in the middle of the third row with perfect posture, listened to his lectures as if he was God. Her eyes would get mooney, and if he listened hard enough (which to him wasn't really that hard because he was a vampire, he had super human hearing) he could hear her heart beat faster in the seconds that his eyes held contact with her as he talked, delicate and quick like the wings of a hummingbird. Everything she turned in was perfect. She was smart but not pretentious in her way of writing, and something about the way she wrote reminded him about the tender inside of a wrist. Her wrist.

But Harry was mean, and he liked to tease, and he could tell that y/n was waiting. She was sitting on a precipice, hanging on to his very word, her body strung taught and stressed. She was waiting on him. He was going to make her wait until he did as he asked. He wanted one on one time with her, and until then, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Whether she realized it or not, she was teasing him, too. In ways that y/n probably wasn't even aware of. The way she bit her lips so they were bright with her blood right underneath the surface, the promise of her heat with every exaggerated sigh she let out as she walked out of his lecture hall. Her clothes, god they killed him.

She wore these black kitten heels once, and they drove him crazy.

Now, he knows his place as Professor, and he didn't just get this job to fuck around. He enjoyed teaching and knowing secretly that he knew first had about the things he was talking about. He loved seeing how his life was absorbed by the younger faces (not that he looked old, he would forever appear to be 23). He respected others, their will, their purpose, and only went as far as his moral compass would let him to take care of his needs.

But he was a man, and he could be brought to his knees by a pretty thing like y/n.

Harry remembers that day, how his trousers were uncomfortable and he had to spend the whole time behind his podium. How he needed to slyly inch a calculating hand to the ever-growing uncomfortable center of his groin and tug the snug fabric away from their vacuum-sealed hold on his hips. It was maddening for him, but uncomfortable for her (he thinks). She never wore them again, and he suspects they may have hurt her delicate feet if the way she kept shifting was anything to go by.

Not that he noticed.

Harry most definitely did not notice that the tip of her toes kept tittering tenderly up and around in slow, hypnotizing circles, meant to relieve pent up tension. He most definitely did not notice that the way her frilly white socks kept sliding down the slope of her ankle with every movement. Or the tantalizing trekk of her delicate fingers against the curve of her thigh, behind her knee, and a little further where the pads of her lucky fingers dug into the soft, aching- he assumed- flesh of her calves. He didn’t fucking hold his breath and become stiller than a statue to try and to hear the sweet, breathy sighs of relief that left her parted lips. No, he did not. That would be a violation of the contract he signed upon assuming his position. It would be betraying the trust of the snarky, reluctant, port-belly head of academics that judged his ambiguous resume with reluctance.

Of course he didn’t. And he wasn’t the slightest bit disappointed that he never saw them again.

This student of his had captured his attention this semester, almost distracting him. Her smell, from what he knows the few times he caught a whiff of it amongst all the others, was sweet, yet not overwhelmingly so. It was mellowed out and warm, and the closest thing he could compare it to from the food he had as a human, was apple pie. She was warm, sweet, honeyed, with the zest of cinnamon.

He wanted to taste her so fucking badly.

Harry doesn't know if it's because he's so hungry that he's smelling her now.

Trailing after the scent with his nose leading the way like a drooling dog, he wonders- no, he knows that he won't be able to fight the urge to taste her if it's really her he finds at the end of the line.

It gets stronger in the library, but from the looks of it, it's dark and empty. From the looks of it, but Harry knows better. He can hear better and smells better, and he knows she's in here. The swift intake of her breath rings in the silence, his ears picking up on the only human sound in the buildings. The near-silent whines that sit at the base of her throat and die before they exit through her nose.

Her hearbeat.

Calm. Steady. Alive.

It sounds like a drum, low and pounding and it thrills him.

He wants to hear it beat faster and faster, like a bunny when it's being chased. He wants to hear the even paced breaths become rapid and disorganized with heightened emotion.

He can smell her, too, the delightful aroma making his fangs itch and his loins ache. Walking further into the library, the stacks of books growing dense with sharp corners and cozy study nooks, he can trace the direct path she took to her spot- the table in the corner with the lamp still on. She has her head resting on her arms, hair haphazardly strewn across the wooden table and some papers, a pencil between her fingers still.

She probably set her head down after saying she was only gong to rest her eyes. She's probably been here for a really long time, he can hear her stomach growling. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pulls the chair back with a motion that's sure to wake her up at the same time that he pinches the paper with two fingers and begins to read.

Waking with a little gasp, y/n straightened. He could pinpoint the exact moment she became fully cognizant of what was happening because her heartbeat picked up in a way that concerned him, and she became utterly still. From the corner of his eye (Harry was reading her paper, a really good paper, and hadn't looked at her. Not even once) he could see her mouth open and close a few times, words escaping her. Y/n rolled the pencil between hands that had begin to perspire and began to chew on her bottom lip.

Internally, Harry groaned. He needed to get her to stop doing that because he was imagining things that no person is his position of power needed to be imagining and his cock was fattening against his thigh. He was hungry in more ways than one for her. A part of him wanted to mark her up like he was a dog and she was his chew toy, licking and sucking and biting on the sweetest parts of her to suckle on her blood; everywhere. The other wanted to do all of those things, and not just for her blood.

He had to get her to speak.

The paper that he held in his hands was probably the best that he was going to get from her class, or maybe all of them put together. The ideas were fresh with just the perfect amount of information from his lectured tossed in for a response to the prompt on the book they were currently discussing. But he had to keep playing his game with her, he had to see her fold like a ragdoll. He wasn't going to tell her what he truly thought about it, how it was so good, how she was such a good student, how she made him so proud. How she was a good girl.

Instead he put the paper down in front of her, crossed his arms and spread his legs in the chair to give his swollen dick some room and said, "you should go home. Have a meal. Go to sleep.”

At this her shoulders sagged, and it was like watching dominoes fall against each other to release different triggers, Her lips crumpled, her chin wobbled, and her eyes blinked away a sea of crystalline tears.

Y/n stared at him, a wet look that punched his gut at the same time that it made his gums salivate and his hips itch to thrust up against the desk like a thing in heat. He looked back at her, his head tipping slowly to the side to track her gaze as it dropped. Like a predatory, he observed her with the kind of stillness that promised a charge of action. That promised death in the maw of a killer.

Her mouth did that thing where it opened and closed again, sounds that came before actual words coming out of her, but never intelligible sentences. Her heart was racing, but her lungs were doing a weird thing. Like they weren't getting enough oxygen.

"Why don't you take a deep breath , hmm? And we can talk about what's going on here," he got up from his chair and stood at the side of his desk, arms crossed and feet spread shoulder width apart, formidable. If she looked closely enough, she would be able to see a thick bulge at his crotch.

But she didn't have a reason to look. He wasn't adjusting himself. He didn't even look like it bothered him.

In fact, he looked almost... mad.

Y/n looked at him straight in the eyes, and her's went doe-like, everything in her stilling like the fawn-like creature in the way of an oncoming vehicle.

Everything, including her breathing.

He wasn't going to have her passed out before all the fun began. Needing to get a grip on her, he took a few heavy steps foward, and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger, the other hand tucking into his pocket to actually adjust himself this time because it was starting to get uncomfortable.

Tilting her face up and closer to him, he bent forward so that their noses were barely touching. Her warm breath huffed against his nose, and he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes into the back of his head.

"Breathe, y/n. You can do it," peering down at her with his jack slightly slack and his eyes at half mast, he imitated inhaling deeply, and she mimicked his motions. Her lungs expanded, and her heart slowed slightly. "That's it, darling. Again."

She gulped and her hands squeezed the fabric of the plaid tennis skirt she was wearing, bringing the hem up slightly so the thinner skin on the inside of her thighs gleamed at Harry.

Then he smelled it, and this time he didn't fight the shiver that ran through him. She was wetHis eyes closed, and a groan rolled deep in his chest. His body tensed and relaxed at the same time, like a transformation.

And when he opened his eyes, he was a different version of himself.

One that didn't give a fuck that he was a professor and she was his student.

This version only had one goal in mind: to consume her in every way he could until y/n went limp in his arms.

"Now what's the matter, little bunny?"

***

Y/n didn't know what was happening, only that something had... changed.

She might have been a quivering mess for him, but she felt the shift in him. The edge to him. The gleam in his eye. She had seen his body shiver at the same time she felt her pussy clench at his words. That's it, darling. Again. Little bunny.

He was encouraging her, not far off from what she wanted to hear from him. It stroked her muddled brain and made her feel fuzzy all over. Some of what he was saying was very inappropriate. But she could care less.

“W-what?” she mumbled, confused. She blinked so that a few tears ran down her face, and she couldn't even feel embarrassed about it.

“Y’heard me loud and clear, darling. Don’t make me repeat myself," her professor tutted.

"i'm sorry, sir. It's just that... I need to work on my paper." And she mumbled something afterwards. Low enough that he wouldn't have been able hear if he was a human. But he wasn't. That didn't mean he couldn't play with her.

"Speak up, y/n. Good girls don't mumble." His tongue was like a lashing, a reprimand, and she felt the scolding everywhere.

"It needs to be better for you, sir." Gulping, she rubbed her thighs together and shuffled in her seat. Y/n was finally one-on-one with him, and she thought she knew what it would feel like.

She was wrong.

Everything was sensitive. Hot. Cold. She was twitchy and there was this squirrley, jumpy feeling inside her. She wanted to run away like a little mouse, but she also wanted to be warmed in his hands. By his words. She wanted to hear the praise come from him so that she could stop feeling so desperate.

Y/n got like this sometimes. Whiny. Insatiable. But no one ever knew how to handle her, when to realize that she was finally full. So she was always... hungry. Like something inside her needed to be stuffed. Abused a little, maybe. She wanted to be handled and then petted. Fucked and kissed and then held. She wanted to be good.

And being like this with him, in a position that made it seem like that was possible, y/n thrummed.

Humming in realization, he stroked his knuckles down the side of her face in a caress, "and what makes you think it isn't already good?"

She leaned into his touch without realizing it, nuzzling into his hand. All she had to do now was purr. Y/n shut her eyes before speaking, "Y-you... you never-"

"Open your eyes and look at me when you're speaking, bunny." Again, the stern, scolding tone. This time it made her flinch and whimper. Her hips rocked in the chair, and he tracked the movement like a leopard in the trees ready to pounce. Y/n knew that he saw, and her face bloomed with heat.

In a breathy, chocked string of words, "you never leave nice notes on my papers, sir. All the others do, but there never any on mine and I just thought... that I n-needed to work harder to be b-better."

She shuffled again in her seat, and her professor's eyes pinched. His had trailed down to her throat, and he squeezed to hold her still.

“Stop squirming, y/n. You want to be better? Stop fucking squirming," and he released her with a small pulse at the base of her neck. He could feel his teeth bulging under his upper lip, the thrum of her life under his fingers enticing him further. Every bit of reason was escaping him. He was going to lose control. Decades of practice, of edging on months of hunger, were nothing to her allure.

He stepped back at the same time that he realized they weren't close enough.

"Stand up," he told her. He watched as she pushed the chair back and stood on wobbly knees, her gaze still searching for recognition that he had heard what she had said, that he had read between the lines and realized what she needed. "Sit on the edge of the table, facing me so we can speak properly."

When she was seated and her hands began to fiddle in her lap, he stepped close enough that her knees were almost touching his hips. And she couldn't miss it this time. The thick length of him, hard against his hip.

"S-sir?" she prompted meekly.

"You want me to leave nice notes on your papers, y/n?" He asked, settling his hands on either side of her and haunching over her so they were nose-to-nose. She could smell him, strong masculine scents of vintage leather and tobacco and bergamot.

Nodding eagerly like a dog, "mhm. Yes, sir."

"Then why didn't you come see me like I asked on every single one of those papers? You didn't listen to me, so why should I reward you?" He mouthed the words against her skin, trailing them down her jaw to her throat where he teased the skin with the tip of his nose.

The area around her neck felt scorching hot, his lips trailing searingly against her. She couldn't hide how desperate she was anymore. She arched, her body was taught, fighting the urge to wriggle because she couldn't decide if she wanted to get away from him or have more of him, and she needed to be good. He had told her to stop squirming.

"I'm sorry, Professor."

Y/n closed her eyes and tentatively braced herself against him. Trembling hands settled on his arms, thick with deceptive muscle. She could feel the strength hiding beneath the surface, tense like a snake preparing to strike. A strong hand settled at her waist, clamping like iron, and another on cupped her jaw tenderly. It was a dichotomy of treatment. Rough and tender at the same time.

"You were a bad girl, y/n."

Then she felt it, a sharp sting where her throat met her shoulder, where Harry was biting her, and licking her, and suckling at her all at the same time. A mixture of a squeal and a moan jumped out of her, and she dug her fingers into his arms, frozen. Whatever he was doing to her hurt. But it hurt in a good way. A way that made her ache with that need to be filled.

She cried out, "I'm sorry, sir." A wet apology that bared how anguished she was.

His hot tongue flattened against her, and she she vibrated in the place where he left his heavy pant, "are you going to be good for me, bunny?"

"Yes, sir. I wanna be good, please," her head was bobbing in that earnest way again, but with his head in the crook of her neck he could only feel the movement against his hair.

He suckled a little more at bite that was already beginning to close, kissing it tenderly, "gonna be my good little bunny?"

Y/n was huffing, not even bothering to hide that she was horny, “please, p-please- I need-”

“Tell me exactly what you need. C'mon, you can do it,” he coaxed her. The hand at her hip molded the flesh there, pulling her closer to him so she was sitting just at the edge, and her knees were pressed into his dick with the lightest pressure. He bucked against her, a slow roll of his groin against her delicate bare knee.

“I need to cum, sir. I need-”

“Don’t-” he pinched her hip roughing, his thick eyebrows furowing in disapproval, “forget your manners, little bunny. Rude darlings don’t get to cum.”

"Please let me cum, Professor," she repeated, eyes glossy but no longer with tears. This was something else. Something needy. Y/n could feel her slick juices seeping through her panties and making the insides of her thighs sticker. The triangle of cloth was sticking to her, and the tight feeling of it against her clit made her want to scream. It was just barely pushing, a teasing sensation that was driving her crazy.

She wanted him to touch her. To rub her swollen clit until she drenched hand in her cum, and then to- to-

"I'm not sure I should, y/n. You didn't listen to me. Didn't come to my office. Instead I had to come find you here. What about me, hmm? What if I need something from you?" Harry leaned back, letting his hands run down so they rested on her knees and his fingers could play with the hem of her skirt.

"Whatever you need, sir. Please." Y/n was beginning to sound a little broken. Her hips struggled to stay planted on the desk and her knuckled turned white from how hard she gripped the edge of the wood. She would much rather touch him, but he was too far away and she didn't want to upset him. She stared at him, silently pleading for his hands to creep up and shove into her panties, to play with her hole.

"Right now I need to eat you, little bunny. Are you going to let me?" He tilted his head at her again, calculating. Waiting, observing.

"Yes!" Y/n shrieked, her thighs trembling.

"Spead these pretty thighs, darling. Let me have a taste," he crooned down at her as she opened up, her skirting riding so he could see her panties, how wet they were, nearly transparent with her arousal. With a deft finger, he pulled the gusset of her panties to the side and dropped to his knees.

Y/n whined at the look on his face. Mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and downturned. He looked hungry. Desperate.

Without warning he leaned forward and covered her with his mouth, his tongue licking her and then dipping into her pussy to collect what had pooled at her opening, his teeth lighting tapping against her clit. He thrusted his tongue into her once, twice, three times, and that was all it took. A gush of wetness coated his tongue, and her tremors pulsed against his lips.

He leaned back and slapped her cunt with an angry growl, and then shoved two fingers into her, fucking her roughly so his fingers got wet with her, "seriously, y/n? Did I give you permission to cum?"

"N-no, sir," as she sat hunched over his kneeling form still twitching, Harry shoved his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of her, and then stood up, not even bothering to lay her panties right before yanking her to stand.

"Get up. We're going to walk to my rooms. Your'e doing to do so quietly, and when we get there, you're going to take your punishment like a good girl, do you understand me?" With a single finger pointed at her, y/n understand she was in for it. Her hands flew to pick up her things, showing her papers into her bag and looping it on her shoulder so she was ready to go.

"I understand, Professor"

He took the bag off her shoulder and laid a hand on her lower back, keeping her at his side as he led her out of the library and into the night, "that's better. Come this way. The night is still young, bunny, and we're both in for a treat."

*****

happy halloweenie!! hoped u liked this heehee. missed mr. vamp. lmk ur thoughts!!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles blurbs #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #vampire!harry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x yn

1K notes · View notes

diddybok · 8 months

Note

i’m actually obsessed with the kinks drabble u did, can u pls do it for the maknae line 🙏🏽

i picked yours to be the one to hold the absolute chaos that is abt to unfold. so i hope you were waiting patiently my love coz here it is!

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: maknae line x gn!reader

➩genre(s): smut, pwp

➩warnings: swearing, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), penetration (not specified what hole, this one is for all the delulu’s out there) , kinks: mask, praise, degradation, oral fixation.

➩wc: 10.3k (10331)

➩author’s note: here it is. the long awaited maknae line. this is the second longest(?) fic i’ve done. but now i can continue working on my seungmin fic that’s a part of the afterglow series. now THAT is something to wait for *lip bite emoji*

➩part(s): previous

jisung | mask | 2.1k (2188) words

“Ji! Can you come here for a second?” You call from the bathroom. Your hands are currently around your back trying to do up the zipper of your costume, but it won’t budge.

Jisung comes running in, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

“What happened? I came as fast as I could!” He asks, scanning you up and down.

You furrow your eyebrows at his dramatics before shaking your head softly. You turn away from him and point to your back.

“Zipper won’t go up. Can you try for me?”

“Oh, yeah sure.”

As Jisung grabs the zip and tugs it a few times, it finally closes. You thank him and step back, assessing yourself in the mirror.

You and Jisung were invited to a halloween party and you decided, obviously, to go in a couple’s costume. It’s your favourite pastime for both of you really. Pretending as if you two are a couple when really you’re just best friends, but the public doesn’t need to know that.

You also told his parents that the two of you were dating as a joke, but he doesn’t know that. You are exceptionally good at keeping up with the whole ‘significant other’ appearances.

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be the best dressed at the party and we haven’t even arrived yet.” Jisung says, flexing in the mirror.

You stifle a laugh as you admire your handiwork. You were in charge of picking the costume and making sure to get the props and makeup correct. You decided that you wanted to go as Ghost and Soap from Call of Duty.

Okay, not exactly a couple’s costume, but you wouldn’t stop pestering Jisung to be Ghost saying that he would look good in a skull mask until he finally caved and agreed.

Now you’re having regrets as he is feeling himself a little too much and he is looking a little too good doing so. You have yet to see him with his full mask and headgear on as he requested for you to give him a black smokey eye.

You use your thumb to wipe some of the excess eyeshadow that rests on the top of his cheek and you give him one playful tap. He thanks you and immediately grabs the rest of his costume.

What a good job you did because he is starting to seriously look too sexy for his own good. You can barely look at him as he assembles his mask and headgear. Then he turns to face you, his arms out wide.

Oh.

Wow.

This is certainly a strange feeling you are experiencing inside of you right now. He looks, to put it plainly, delectable. And you seriously would want nothing more than to take a bite out of him-

“Y/n? Let’s go~” Jisung says, clicking in front of your face.

You shake those inappropriate thoughts from your brain. You are not to think of him that way, absolutely not.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

The party most definitely helps to distract from the glory that is Jisung. You have loosened up a little, enjoying the music, people’s costumes and the atmosphere as a whole.

“Y/n! God I’ve been looking everywhere for you. We can’t be a couple’s costume if we’re constantly separated, you know.” Jisung yells over the loud music, frowning.

You look up at him, his beautiful big brown eyes standing out from the white mask. Perhaps convincing him that this would be a good costume was not good for your mental wellbeing after all.

“Yeah…maybe.”

“What do you mean yeah maybe? Just yes.” he grabs ahold of your hand and pulls you close. You can smell his cologne, the one you bought him for his birthday. You take a deep breath. “Come, let’s go upstairs for a bit.” He says starting to lead you towards the staircase.

Your eyes widen and you try to plant your feet on the ground.

“Wait, just us? Like alone? Why?” You stammer.

He just looks at you as if you aren’t thinking straight. He tries to move you again but you don’t budge. You see him roll his eyes before you let out a questionable noise of surprise as he picks you up and carries you up the stairs.

He jiggles the handles of a few doors before finding an unlocked room. Being mindful not to bash your head or your feet, he manoeuvres his way through the doorway and places you gently on the bed. As you settle the unwanted swarm of butterflies in your stomach, Jisung goes over to the door and locks it.

“Why are we up here Ji?” You ask, your hands fiddling with a zip on your costume as you look around the room.

He takes off his helmet to free his hair; his mask shortly follows and he blinks to adjust to the light. Running a hand through the messy locks, he sits down beside you on the bed.

“Just needed a moment away y’know? It was getting a bit much down there. You really had to pick a costume that would draw all the attention to us huh?” He says nudging you with his elbow.

You wince slightly, rubbing the side of your ribs before squinting at him.

“You told me you wanted to be the centre of attention. I should be hearing a thank you, not complaints.” Jisung shakes his head at your words.

“I think it’s this mask, or the combat gear, or both. It’s certainly getting a rile off people.” He says in all seriousness. You miss the way his eyes lingers on you with a pointed look before they cast away to a corner of the room.

“Well of course. A mask automatically makes somebody look way more fuckable.” You say nonchalantly.

He turns to you, a smug smile on his face.

“Are you saying I’m only fuckable with this mask on?” Jisung says in a sultry tone.

You blink, seemingly caught like a deer in headlights. Has his voice always sounded so enticing?

“You and I both know that isn’t the case. But it damn sure helps your case.” Jisung gawks at this. His arm moving behind your waist and settling dangerously close to your ass as he leans in closer to you.

“My case huh?” He tilts his head at you, eyes squinting slightly. “You mean to say you wouldn’t fuck me in all my glory right now?” He questions, his voice nearing a whisper.

“Are you drunk?”

“Off you, yeah.”

You roll your eyes and lightly smack his chest. He grabs your hand gently and tugs your arm, making you involuntarily fall into his chest. You try to move back, but his other arm lowers you down onto the bed, caging you in. He smirks at you.

“Want me to put the mask on?” He removes his grasp on your hand and his fingers dance along your jaw. “That way it doesn’t technically count as me, but Ghost, who gets to have his way with you.” He purrs.

What the fuck is in the air tonight? Is Phil Collins playing somewhere?! You awkwardly chuckle.

“You know we’re only supposed to act like a couple in front of other people right? Nobody is having their way with anybody.” You say more to yourself rather than to him.

You knew it was a lie the minute it came out of your mouth. Now your costume is broken from the sheer force of Jisung and his manly ways of needing to rid you of your clothes.

“Fuck, fuck yes. You’re so fucking tight baby, shit~” Jisung, or rather ‘Ghost’ says as he grinds down into you.

The way he calls you baby makes your heart flutter. It’s not as if he hasn’t before, but those times he wasn’t, well, in you.

You really can’t believe he is inside of you right now. Inside of you whilst he adorns that incredibly sexy skull mask.

His deep grunts and the sound of the headboard banging against the wall over the muffled music from downstairs sends a shot of ecstasy straight into your veins.

“Bet you couldn’t fuckin’ keep it together at the thought of me in this mask huh? I seen the way you were looking at me downstairs darling, fuck, just had to get you all to myself. Couldn’t take much more of your pretty eyes looking at me like that any longer.” Jisung says as he repositions himself onto his knees.

He grabs your waist, your back arching off the bed as he uses you like his personal fleshlight.

The sounds of your moans are sure to make anybody who walks by stop and listen. No doubt blushing profusely whilst needing to quickly flee to give you your privacy.

Your hands reach up, grasping anything they could get a hold of. You manage to grab a buckle from his helmet and you lift your head to look at his mask.

“Ah fuck Y/n. Please don’t look at me like that. You’re squeezin’ so tight around me every time you look at my face. Driving me fuckin’ insane baby.” Jisung says, his fingers digging deeper into your waist as he pounds into you harder.

His grunts turn into that of a whine. His breath no doubt, creating condensation inside of his mask.

You run your fingers over the dips and curves of his mask. His hand trails to your back, lifting your body up so that your chest is flush against him.

Not casting your eyes away from the mask, you begin to grind down into his lap. His hands settle on the curve of your back, his fingers harshly gripping the supple flesh.

“Y/n—”

You just wrap your arms around his neck, your head resting on his shoulder as you start to bounce up and down. Jisung gladly meets you halfway by thrusting up into you at full force.

“Baby I can’t, not when you feel this good. I’m, shit, I’m gonna come Y/n.” Jisung whines, his breath becoming short.

“Me too Ji. I’m about to—”

“Come with me Y/n. Please, please I need you to feel good with me baby.” Jisung says. He releases one of his hands from you and he throws his helmet and mask off.

The sight with him wearing the mask is certainly one to engrave into your brain. But Jisung with his hair messy, eyes full blown with desire; only for you. Sweat dripping down his hairline and his plump lips parted as he releases quick breaths is something you would pay to see over and over again.

His hand makes his way to your chest, pinching and twisting the hardened bud before enveloping it with his mouth.

The sensation of his mouth on your nipple and his relentless fucking up into makes you see stars. You throw your head back, stilling your movements as you come.

If Jisung wasn’t catching feelings already then he did after he heard his name so gorgeously mewled from your lips; sending him over the edge as he pumped his load inside of you.

He shouldn't have, but he did. You simply felt just too good.

As you both come down from your high with heavy pants and small chuckles here and there, you assess the damage done.

Not to your relationship, but rather your clothes.

“So, through your fit of horny rage, did it occur to you that ripping apart my only costume that I brought would leave me topless?” You ask him with a raised eyebrow.

He looks down at your exposed chest, then at the floor where your broken top resides.

“Can’t you put it on and, y’know, just hold it tight whilst we find our way outta here?” He suggests.

You look down at the costume. Sure, some of it may be salvageable, doesn’t mean you want to hold it up to your chest and risk some drunkard bumping into you causing you to release your grip.

You get off the bed and start looking through the chest of drawers. Certainly not appropriate to do in somebody else’s home, but you don’t feel too bad considering their house will be trashed to a point where a large amount of money will need to be invested into replacing and fixing the damages.

Luckily, you find a shirt. You go to put it on but Jisung stops you. He takes the shirt from your hands and he opens it up, gently dressing you. Once he pulls the shirt over your head, he places a totally platonic kiss to your soft lips.

You tilt your head up at him, a silent question that he seems to understand.

“Because I want to take it off you, actually take my time with you when we get back and do it properly. Do it for real.” He says, his voice above a mere whisper.

Grabbing your hand, he leads the two of you out of the party. You can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face.

Who knew that Jisung wearing a mask would lead to this point? Not you, that’s for sure!

felix | praise | 2.2k (2205) words

The clock reads 01:36 am as you make your way to the skate park. The day was filled with sun and blue sky promising you a nice clear night sky covered in a blanket of stars. You climb the ramp and your senses are already filled with Felix.

“Thought you said you were gonna get here before me?” Felix teases not moving from his current position. You scoff lightly and wiggle your way into his arms and under the blanket.

Sure this may be slightly intimate for friends to do, but you know that Felix is a touchy person and you don’t mind all that much. Especially when he is the only one who agrees to stargaze with you at late hours of the night.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

Time passes by and the two of you lay there listening to your playlist and the crickets.

“Lix?”

“Hmm?”

“I finished reading the book that I had been putting off for ages” You say smiling softly. You feel his head turn to look down at you, so you meet his eyes, tilting your head up from his chest.

“Seriously?” You nod. “Wow, I’m so proud of you angel! Did you enjoy it?” He gleams.

Your brain takes a second to process what he has just said. Your face faltering and your hand that laid flat on his chest, now bunching up his shirt.

“Y/n? Did you enjoy it?” Felix asks again, chuckling softly at your fist balling up his shirt. You could only release a small hum in agreement. Felix looks back up to the stars and you miss the cocky smirk that now adorns his face.

“Hm, you’ve made me proud so far. You wanna use your words and tell me what you liked about the book like the good little angel you are?” Felix speaks lowly.

You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together because of the way he is praising you right now. What has gotten into him? More specifically, what has gotten into you?!

“Uh, I liked how there was a story in the book” You say hurriedly, looking at the stars. Anything but him. Felix lets out a roar of laughter which inevitably snaps you out of your trance.

“Why are you laughing?” You groan, unaware of the nonsensical sentence you had just said.

He just shakes his head and pulls you closer into his embrace. His hand starts to stroke at your side and you are suddenly becoming extremely aware of the proximity between the two of you.

“Oh look, a shooting star!” You lie, pointing up to the sky to try and ease the tension.

However, Felix, much to your dismay, was not looking up at the sky, but rather at you. Looking at you like either the only person in the world, or the tastiest sweet treat he has ever seen.

Does he want to dote on you or eat you? You really can’t decipher which as you study his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that…”

“You’re just so good, so so sweet. I love having you in my life. I’m always so proud of everything you do. Makes me wanna keep you all to myself and not let anyone experience your sweetness.” Felix says, his other hand lifting your chin up to look him in the eyes. Something you are really struggling to do.

You gulp, unsure of the feelings that bubble in the pit on your stomach.

“M’serious. You have the most gorgeous smile doll, so pretty.”

Butterflies? Perhaps butterflies are fluttering in your stomach.

“Especially when I’m the one that makes you smile. I shouldn’t say this, but I think about you all the time. You’re always on my mind, Y/n.” Felix says, his eyes now wondering to the twinkles in the sky.

You can’t breathe. You know he likes to get personal, but not like this. Never like this. Something is different with the way he’s talking to you. It has been ever since the last time you were at the skate park with him and he told you how pretty you looked.

It may have been a slip of the tongue, but you expressed to him that you like when he would praise you.

Now the little shit has found a way to constantly fluster you.

“All good thoughts I hope.” You say breaking the silence that was brewing between the two of you.

“Of course. Could never be anything bad with you angel. Even if I was upset with you, all you have to do is just look at me with those perfect eyes and I’m yours. Can’t ever stay mad at you,” he shakes his head. “Never.”

You sit up, looking down at him with your mouth agape. He turns to look towards you, his arm going under his head to prop it up. He’s clearly been going to the gym recently because his arms are getting toned, and bigger.

The protruding veins on his forearms are enough to make you drool.

“Why would you say all that to me knowing I can’t kiss you for it.” You say, crossing your arms. He chuckles at you.

“Who says you can’t?”

You look around the empty skate park as if the answer was obvious.

“Uh, literally the number one rule in the rulebook of best friends? It’s the same for everyone ever. You kiss and you open up a door of complications.” You say matter-of-factly.

Felix sits up, the blanket falling from his chest and pooling at his waist. He places his hand in the space between your crossed legs as he dips his head slightly under to look at you through his eyelashes.

“Fuck the rulebook. You know you and I don’t follow rules anyways. That’s why we hop the locked gate to the park almost every night.” He states, smirking.

You can’t argue with that. He got you there. Though you aren’t done putting up a fight so you shake your head to disagree with something you clearly agree with him on.

“Well yes, but no. We can’t kiss.”

“I wanna kiss you.” He says looking at your lips.

“I just said we can’t.”

“Let me kiss you Y/n.” He licks his lips, his gaze unwavering.

You hesitate, but stand strong in this battle as you shake your head.

“Lix, strictly prohibited.”

“One teeny tiny kiss can’t hurt.” He says, his voice dropping dangerously low.

Gosh he looks so pretty underneath the moonlight. He literally has a twinkle in his eye. Not to mention his own set of stars that are sprinkled across his nose and under his eyes.

“I…want to, but—”

“But you’re talking too much. Let’s busy your lips shall we? Be my good little angel and kiss me.” He whispers, bringing his hand to cup your cheek.

You aren’t the world’s strongest soldier as you close the distance between you. Your lips entwine with his and fall into a rhythmic pattern almost immediately.

He smiles into the kiss whispering a ‘There you go doll’ making you squeeze those thighs together to relieve some of the pressure.

It’s cold outside, but the heat that your bodies emit are keeping you both warm as your body’s move in tandem. He kneels as you are on all fours, taking him down your throat.

“Y-yes~ So good. Just like that for me, doll. Just like that.” Felix moans as he pushes your head up and down his throbbing length.

Eager to please, you hollow your cheeks, taking him as far down your throat as you can get him. You moan around him and his head falls back as he holds your head down and thrusts into your mouth, making you gag.

“Good fucking angel. Taking me so far down that pretty little throat of yours. Shit, you gonna let me fuck your pretty hole? Please baby, make me happy and let me fuck you slow.”

He releases his hold on you and repositions himself. The blanket is now being used as a barrier between your naked bodies and the cold concrete beneath you.

Risky considering a guard could decide to do their job tonight and parole the park, but they never do. And that is at the farthest part of your brain as you now crawl up Felix’s body. Rubbing yourself up and down his length.

He releases a soft grunt, grabbing your hips forcing you to stop your movement.

“Don’t tease.” He warns as he raises his eyebrow at you giving you a firm smack on your ass.

You giggle, biting your lip as you attempt to move your hips once more before he smacks you harder this time.

“Naughty. Don’t start acting up now doll or else I won’t be so nice hm? Will you be good for me?” He asks lifting your hips slightly as he grabs his dick. He pumps it once before he runs it over your core a couple of times.

Realising he was waiting for your answer, you nod vigorously. He smiles at you before sinking you down on his cock, both of you letting out a long, breathy moan.

“So warm, so tight, fuck you’re choking me darling.” Felix growls, thrusting up into you slowly.

You rest your hands on his chest, meeting his thrusts halfway.

“Oh look at you. You wanna take the lead? Go on then doll. Ride me, but go slow baby yeah?” He lays still, his hands busying themselves with your nipples.

Taking his command, you start to ride him slowly. You close your eyes as you cherish each vein, each ridge of his dick as your walls envelope him.

“You look so pretty on top of me Y/n. Mm, I will never get this image out of my head. You’re made for me.” He pulls you down so that your chest lays on his as he starts to thrust up into you. He simply couldn’t resist the temptation that is you.

“Shit, can’t let you go after this. I’ll be damned if you fuck anybody else. You can’t, you’re mine now. Say it. Open your eyes, doll and tell me you’re mine.” He speaks into your ear before turning your head to face him.

“I’m yours Felix. Always have been.” You say with a soft whimper.

“Ah fuck~ Good. You’re damn right you always have been, my angel.” He starts to speed up, his hand trailing to between your legs to give you that extra stimulation.

“Lix I’m close.” You say, meeting his thrusts again as you whine loudly.

“I know baby, I know. Wanna come for me? Yeah you do. Be my good little angel and come on this cock.”

That was all you needed as you gushed all over him. Your legs quiver as you clench tightly around him.

“That’s it, feel good on my cock doll. You’re squeezin’ me so fucking tight love.” Felix’s voice is shaky as he wraps his arms around your waist and begins to chase his release.

He only lasts a couple more thrusts before he’s moaning your name so beautifully in your ear as he releases inside of you. You feel it, there’s so much as he empties his dick all in your hole.

You look down to where the two of you connect, his hips finally stilling as he breathes heavily. You lift up off of him and the mixture of your climax seeps out and drops back onto his length. Following put, Felix looks down at the mess you’ve both made, smiling smugly.

He grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing tightly before he smacks it.

“Clean it up.”

Without a second thought, you move down and settle between his legs. With your ass perched in the air, you don’t waste time as you lick up and down his length. Sucking his balls into your mouth as you collect every last drop of the result of tonight’s escapades.

He has to grab your hair and pull your head up, the feeling of your tongue and soft wet mouth too much for an overstimulated Felix.

“Okay okay, shit, you did such a good job for me. Never expected anything less from my angel. M’so proud of you, c’mere.” He says, opening his arms wide.

You move to lay beside him and he folds the both of you up in the blanket. To the best of his ability anyway.

You both calm down, your senses momentarily heightened. Stroking your arm he litters the side of your head and your forehead with kisses. He then lifts your chin up to face him, planting a deeply soft kiss to your lips.

“I’m so proud of you. My little star,” Another kiss. “You shine brighter than all of the ones in the sky,” Another kiss. “I promise. You’re mine, I’m yours.” His voice, a softly spoken promise.

“I’m yours, you’re mine.” You say, smiling at him.

Felix doesn’t have to play pretend in the little world he has created that consists of you and him as now he gets to finally live in the reality of it. And you, you’re just happy to be a part of this new constellation that’s been written in the stars.

seungmin | degradation | 2.9k (2929) words

“Oh I would. I definitely would. ‘Til my jaw locks, the neighbours know their name, the wallpaper peels off the wall. You would need at least ten big bodied people to try to pry me off of them. I am so serious.” You practically drool.

You were showing Seungmin edits of your current celebrity crushes, having said extremely vulgar things about them and just what you would do for the past thirty minutes.

And no, you do not care if these said crushes may also consist of pixelated characters from games. If a person is attractive, they are attractive. You are not fussy.

Seungmin on the other hand has had to deal with his inbox of all his social media being full of edits that you bombard him with. Safe to say he is sick of it.

“You are disgusting” Seungmin groans.

“Yep. They so could have me in any position”

“Have you no shame?”

“Any day of the week.”

“Y/n, stop.”

“For them I am simply a hole-”

“Jesus fucking christ! Can you for once in your life not act like a fucking slut?” Seungmin questions, raising his voice slightly.

Oh. Oh.

You stop dead in your tracks, gulping loudly. You don’t say another word. Fearful for if you open your mouth, you will plead him to say it again.

“What now you’re silent?” He scoffs and looks over at you, monitoring your face. You still don’t move, not even to scroll through more edits on your phone. The same sound playing over and over. He sees the way you tightly grasp the fabric of your joggers before bringing his eyes back to your face.

“You liked that…didn’t you?” He quizzes, inching closer to you on the sofa. He places one hand on the arm-rest and the other rests near the back of your head; caging you in. When you don’t respond, he gently grabs a hold of your chin with his fingers.

“I asked you a question. Or are you too stupid to rack your brain to think of anything other than being used for your body?” He whispers.

You just came. Well you think you just did. If you didn’t, you are surely on your way.

“…No.” You meekly respond.

He laughs softly, pulling away and moving to his side of the sofa again.

“Oh okay. Was just making sure.” Seungmin says with a shit-eating grin.

You furrow your eyebrows at this, looking at him quizzically.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What do you mean you were just making sure? Making sure of what?” You ramble.

Seungmin just hums, ignoring your array of questions. He busies himself with his phone, completely shutting you out.

That incident happened on Monday, it is now Saturday. Something has shifted between the two of you, at least you think it has.

It is not rare for the two of you to bash heads. It is usually you getting on Seungmin’s nerves and he always cusses you out for it. Except the way he has been doing it since Monday has been…interesting.

It’s like he knows something about you. About the way you react to the way he raises his voice at you. The way he scoffs a laugh at you when you fail again at a level on the video game the two of you play. Or the way he downright disrespects you.

It’s stressing you out to say the least. When he acts cold and distant to you and then immediately blows up on you for even suggesting that he is acting weird.

You decided to give him some space during the week to sort out whatever mood swing he was going through.

You are at his house now for ‘Sleepless Saturday’s’. This was a tradition between the two of you and his other two roommates Jeongin and Chris.

First you all do some gaming, then you all stuff your faces with whatever food you want and now you begin the movie marathon. Luckily for you, it’s your turn to choose what everyone watches this Saturday.

Due to the fact that Seungmin had been off with you all week, you decided that you were going to torture him with choosing a movie franchise that he particularly doesn’t like.

It was only fair considering what he had put you through. You have never been so confusingly horny ever in your entire life.

As the boys come into the room with drinks and snacks you hear a groan from Jeongin and Seungmin. Chris just snickers to himself as he sits down in his designated seat.

“Right, who here pissed you off?” Jeongin says, looking at you before turning to the other guys. “You know this only happens when you piss Y/n off! And I know for damn sure it wasn’t me so you better own up or I will make all of you watch the director’s cut of Lord of the Rings next Saturday.”

At that, all of your eyes go wide as you plead with Jeongin. Chris complaining at how he wasn’t the one to blame and Jeongin confirming that it couldn’t possibly have been him.

All eyes fall to Seungmin who sits there snacking on some popcorn. He looks up to see eyes on him and he throws his hands in the air.

“What are you looking at me for?” Seungmin groans.

“If it wasn’t me or him, that only leaves you, genius.” Jeongin says, shaking his head at Seungmin.

Seungmin’s mouth falls open as he struggles to get words out. He looks from them to you, to which you quickly divert your eyes to the television screen.

“Dude, come on. Whatever you did to Y/n just apologise.” Chris says.

You are trying to hide your smile by taking a sip of your drink. You can always trust Jeongin to up the ante.

“I didn’t do anything!” Seungmin retorts. He keeps trying to catch your eye to have you side with him and convince them that they are just blowing this out of proportion, but you don’t give in so easily.

“You clearly did if we are all watching the Twilight Saga tonight.”

“Alright guys let’s calm down. The longer we argue the longer it takes for me to see some sexy vampires and werewolves on the screen. Sit down, I’m pressing play.” You say, breaking it up.

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

The start of the second film has begun and you can feel a pair of eyes on you. Subtly, you stretch and turn your head to confirm the suspicions.

Seungmin stares at you with squinted eyes and you furrow your eyebrows in return. You almost miss it, but he points to the stairs before immediately getting up.

The other boys don’t pay him any mind as they, though they complained, are entranced by the film.

“Innie I’m cold, can I borrow a hoodie?” You ask.

“Yeah, just get one from my room.” He never pries his eyes away from the screen. “You know where. Just don’t—”

“Go in the second drawer yeah I know.” You say rolling your eyes and running up the stairs.

Passing Jeongin’s room, you go straight into Seungmin’s. He sits on the bed with his head in his hands.

“What?” You ask, folding your arms. He immediately stands up, walking past you to close his door. As he does, you get a whiff of his cologne and it smells delectable.

You have barely been in close proximity to him the whole day let alone the whole week, afraid that he will just snap at you.

“What the fuck Y/n?” He says in a hushed tone, careful not to be too loud.

“What do you mean?”

“Why have you been acting so weird? You’ve been so on edge around me today and then you chose Twilight as the film’s for us to watch. I.N’s right, you only do that when you’re pissed off. Did I do something?” Seungmin says, genuinely worried.

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to voice your feelings.

“You’ve been acting so strange since Monday…”

“This again? Jesus Y/n what about Monday?” Seungmin says, now frustrated.

You scoff and turn around. Trying to open the door to his room. It opens slightly before it gets slammed shut, his hand right by your head.

“Y/n. You do not walk away from me when I’m trying to have a conversation with you. Especially when I don’t know what I’ve done.” Seungmin says quietly behind you.

“Seungmin, this couldn't wait until tomorrow?”

He drops his head and you can feel his breath tickle the back of your neck.

“You’re killing me Y/n. Using my full name? Please just tell me. Tell me what I did.” He whispers against your ear.

Your chest rises and falls heavily at the lack of distance between the two of you. You take a deep breath.

“You were mean to me.”

He turns your body around so that you are facing him, his hands never break contact from holding you, his thumb stroking your arms softly.

“Was I? What did I say?”

“You said that I was a slut.”

Seungmin stares at you before he breaks out into a smile. He covers his mouth and recomposes himself.

“No I never. I said that you act like a slut. And was I wrong? No again. But you liked it didn’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mouth falls open. How has he flipped this back on you?

“Don’t tempt me with your open mouth Y/n. You know I’d love to shut you up in a way I know you would like.” He caresses your cheek with his hand.

“F-fuck you Seungmin.” You stammer, embarrassed. He just laughs at you, his bottom lip sticking out slightly as he tilts his head at you.

“No you want me to? I bet you do. Wanna open those legs for me like the filthy little whore you are huh? Want me to fuck you like you crave? Like the needy little cumslut you are?” Seungmin says, his voice now in a low timbre.

You hope the boys are so entranced that they can’t hear you become a moaning mess for your best friend upstairs.

It doesn’t help how he’s been calling you his dirty little plaything ever since he shoved his cock down your throat. Then pumped his fingers in and out of you as he sucked, licked and went to town on you with that dangerously long (and skilled) tongue of his.

Now you find yourself with your legs draped over his shoulders as he shows no mercy with his hips as he thrusts in and out of you at full speed.

“Yeah, take it slut. You’re not good for anything other than opening up those legs of yours. You just let anyone fuck you like this?” He lands a hard slap to your ass making you moan. “Huh? I asked you a question, you better fucking answer it.” He growls.

“N-no. Never.” You mewl, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You hear him laugh at you. The fucker is laughing at you as he takes you to pound town.

“Never knew my best friend was so needy for cock. Yeah your fingers and your toys with your little fantasies of your crushes don’t do shit. You needed, no, wanted to feel like my own little sex doll didn’t you?” He says chuckling.

He slows down, putting both of your ankles on his right shoulder as he presses your legs into your chest and grinds down, hitting you so unbelievably deep. That delicious spot inside getting stroked time and time again as he rolls his hips into you.

The sweat off his forehead drips just below your eye, mixing with the tears that make their descent down the side of your cheek, wetting the side of your head.

He is enjoying the way you react, the way you clench around him tightly every single time he degrades you. Caught up in the heat of it all, he licks a stripe of your tears, humming at the salty taste.

Your mouth, open and panting for air, gets intruded by his tongue licking along your own before enclosing his mouth around yours, swallowing your moans.

This is all so filthy. So vulgar. So good.

The kiss is wet, sloppy and a mix of both of you breathing into each other’s mouths. He pulls away with your bottom lip between his teeth. He bit so hard he very nearly drew blood. The pain just mixes with the pleasure as you whine at the sensation to which he licks and soothes the bite marks that he’s created.

He dips his head down, kissing, sucking and blowing cool air on your neck before speaking low in your ear.

“You’re such a dirty hole. My own personal—fuck, tight little hole for me to fill up. Aren’t you? Shit~”

“Min I can’t. Too much.” You say as your hands travel down his back, your nails scraping so hard it breaks the skin.

“Yes you can. You can take it Y/n, come on. It’s what you were made for. You were made to be used, you can fucking take it.”

“Minnie m’gonna fucking come.” You cry out.

He shakes his head.

“No the fuck you’re not you dumb little hole. Ngh, you’re gonna make me come first. I’m first, then you can. Mkay?” Seungmin says, his voice betraying the authoritative demeanour he adopted as it cracks slightly; turning into a desperate whine.

You try to be good for him, holding the coil that threatens to burst any minute now.

“Fuck I’m coming. Shit Y/n, I’m coming.” He says, his hands roughly gripping the pillow beside your head as he unloads into you.

“Please, please, please!” You whine, rocking your hips to chase your own release.

Knowing you’re about to snap, he moves one of his hands between your thighs, stimulating you at your core whilst trying his hardest to fuck you through your orgasm.

You swear you’ve never come this hard. Let alone this much. Your legs are uncontrollably shaking. You milk him dry and he makes sure you ride out your high for as long as possible before he collapses half on you, half on the bed.

You try to catch your breath, but it is proving difficult.

“Y/n take a deep breath for me sweetheart.” Seungmin says, catching his own breath as he strokes your forehead as places gentle kisses to your eyelids and cheeks.

You take three deep breaths and are able to regulate your breathing to soft pants now.

He pulls out of you, moaning at the loss of warmth, but also at the mess that spills out of you. He moves down the bed, cleaning you up. Eagerly lapping up the result of both of your climaxes.

You don’t think you can take anymore of the overstimulation and you weakly push his head away to which he laughs that sexy laugh of his again.

“Okay okay, m’sorry you just taste too good.” He crawls back up the bed and lays beside you, holding you in his arms.

He doesn’t even think he has gone as intense as he did just then and he doesn’t think you have either.

He makes sure to just hold you, swaying you lightly as he kisses you on the side of your head. He looks at his bedside table saying an internal thanks as he sees his water bottle is full.

He takes it and holds it to your mouth.

“Y/n I need you to drink this for me okay. Open your mouth darling. There we go, slowly, not too fast.” Seungmin soothes as he helps you drink.

Once you’ve had at least a quarter he stops for a bit. Telling you just how good you were for him and that he’s so proud of you. He rubs between your thighs, not even to get you going again, just to soothe the ache.

“I’m not letting you have sex with anybody like that other than me.” He says and you both laugh. Though he is completely serious. After that you simply cannot even think about any of your celebrity crushes because you just know he has ruined you for them. Even if they were just a fantasy.

After, and only after you had finished the bottle of water, were you allowed to let him clean you up properly. When you got the strength to get up, you tried to make yourself look like you weren’t just fucked into oblivion as you hobble down the stairs with Seungmin.

That was your, amongst many, mistake.

Jeongin and Chris look appalled. You see Chris shaking his head whilst Jeongin jumps up from his seat, actually looking like he could hurt the both of you.

“What, and I can not stress this enough, the FUCK!” Jeongin yells.

“No way you were clapping cheeks when we had to sit here and watch two whole Twilight movies. No way.” Chris mumbles to himself.

“What do you mean?” Seungmin says shrugging and acting confused.

You think you actually saw the string of sanity that was holding Jeongin together snap as he lunges for Seungmin. Whilst Chris on the other hand shakes his head at you like a disappointed mother.

Through Seungmin’s screams and Chris’ ‘Mate yous are nasty’, it’s safe to say that you and Seungmin deserve to sit through the director’s cut of Lord of the Rings at least three times to make up for tonight!

jeongin | oral fixation | 3k (3009) words

You stretch, releasing a small yawn from beside Jeongin before placing the knuckle of your finger between your teeth as you concentrate on scrolling through your laptop.

Jeongin was texting on his phone, humming a simple tune. However, the sound of a wrapper unfolding and being squished up into a ball caught his attention.

He watches as you place the lollipop between your lips. This is the third one today.

One of the boys in the group chat sent a video of what they’re currently doing. Jeongin knows that you think all of his friends are attractive. Which he likes to pretend doesn’t bother him, but deep down it makes his right eye twitch a little bit.

Yet being the good friend he is, he turns the phone and shows you, lightly nudging your arm with his elbow.

You watch as Minho lifts a spoon to his lips, his tongue darting out to catch the contents dripping from the spoon before he puts it in his mouth and moans.

“How does he make eating soup look so fucking hot.” You say with your lollipop tucked away in the side of your cheek.

“He doesn’t. He’s just being annoying.” Jeongin says distastefully.

You lean over him, grabbing the white stick of your sweet treat between your fingers as you press play on the video again.

Jeongin watches you as you become strangely enraptured by the video. When Minho catches the liquid with his tongue, he sees you watching intently, the lollipop slowly making itself comfortable back in its designated place.

As the video ends for the third time, you are now quiet as you occupy your mind with something Jeongin knows not.

The way you so seamlessly move back into your previous state of shopping on your laptop made Jeongin squint his eyes.

It always did make him wonder why you would always adorn a sweet suckle between your lips. Always a lollipop, a hard candy or just an ice cream. Anything that could keep your mouth busy, you made sure to have.

But it was only with him you did it. He never questioned it until now, when things started to click into place.

“Innie are you even listening to me?” You say waving your hand in front of his face. He blinks a couple of times, taking account of the sweet treat in your hand.

“What?”

“I said what pair of shoes should I get? I have loads of black, barely any white and little to no coloured ones. What are we feeling?” You say turning your laptop to face him.

He looks at the choices of shoes you have presented in front of him. He never has been good with masking the expressions on his face; this time it shows one of disgust.

You catch the expression quickly and you groan.

“You hate them all. You know what, forget this. I’m just gonna continue to wear the shoes I already have.” You say placing the lollipop in your mouth and turning the laptop back to your eyes only.

Curiosity bested Jeongin as he looked at you with questioning eyes.

“Why do you always have something in your mouth?”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, taking the lollipop out of your mouth.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, for the past month, every time we hang out, you’re always eating.”

He realised he hadn’t quite worded that correctly as you squint at him. Though before you could press further he held his hands out, quick with an explanation.

“No, not like that. I mean you always have a sweet or an ice cream. Why?”

You shrug, scrolling through a new clothing website you found.

“I dunno, soothing I guess.”

“I can’t imagine it’s good for your teeth.” Jeongin says as he grabs the remote to the television.

“We’re all gonna die anyways, what does it matter if it’s not good for my teeth.” He rolls his eyes at your logic, though he continues to browse through Youtube.

“Just because we’re all gonna die, doesn't mean you have to speed up the process.”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I’m going to die anytime soon from a few cavities Innie.”

He turns to look at you, momentarily peering over at your laptop screen.

“I don’t know, I just feel like you should find other alternatives. You have good teeth, I’d hate to see them all withered away by the time we’re like forty.”

You turn to him and purposefully crunch down on your lollipop.

“May I ask what made you decide to hone in on my habits? ‘Cause it seems you care very much for the health of my molars.” You taunt.

“I…I don’t know. Was just curious I guess, whatever. What do you wanna watch?”

──・──・・✿ ・・──・──

Strange. From that day onwards , every single time you would hang out with Jeongin, he would notice that your mouth didn’t occupy a sweet treat.

Perhaps he had gotten used to seeing your pretty lips moulded around something. Perhaps his mind would replace the sweet treat you were sucking for his dick.

Gosh, no! He can not be thinking about you that way. Yet…the thought sends blood rushing straight to the core of his being. Not ideal with the warmth that the jacuzzi is providing and the sight of you in your bathing suit no less than a metre away.

“You didn’t have a lollipop today.” He states as he plays with the bubbles that rise to the surface of the water.

“I had a dream that I got really bad cavities and my teeth fell out. I’m not joking, it scared me so bad that I vowed to stop eating hard candies.” You exclaim.

Jeongin bursts out laughing but you look at him with a deadpan face.

“What was the joke? Because I fear I’m missing out.” You say crossing your arms and raising your eyebrow.

At this, Jeongin stops laughing and rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, how do you expect me not to laugh at that?” He snickers.

“It was a nightmare! I swear if I lose any teeth, I am going to gnaw on you with my gums until I make you bleed.” You say slinking further down into the jacuzzi.

You’re brought out of your slump when Jeongin decides to playfully splash water at you. You get him back by splashing water directly in his face. His mouth was open from laughter and now he is choking on the water that he accidentally swallowed.

He tries not to make a scene, but how could anybody possibly not when they are choking. Clutching the side of the jacuzzi he heaves and coughs.

He feels the water move beside him and soon a hand patting him on his back quickly follows.

“Alright tough guy, calm down.” You say patting and rubbing his back in small circles.

This seemed to have helped him as now he turns back around and submerges himself in the water. But before his head went under, he could hear your giggles.

Mischievousness graces Jeongin as he decides to grab your ankle under the water making you scream and grab ahold of his hair.

He winces in pain as you pull him up and immediately start scolding him.

Something about how if he does it again you will roundhouse kick him in the neck? He isn’t too sure as the water was still pouring out of his ears.

“What’s got you so cranky as of late? You're having withdrawals from your sweet treats, huh?” Jeongin asks as he sits back down in the jacuzzi next to you.

“No! Yes… I don’t know, I just feel so restless. Having something to suck just calmed my thoughts as weird as it sounds.” You voice frustratedly.

Jeongin listens as you unload about how this weird obsession over needing something in your mouth has made it hard for you to focus if you don’t have something occupying your mouth.

He says a silent prayer of forgiveness for what he is about to do.

“You can always suck my fingers.”

You look at him as if he just called you a hideous, vile creature. At least that’s the same look you gave him when he said that you were like ‘if cream cheese was a person.’

“You’re serious aren’t you?” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

“It’s just me. I mean there are other things to suck.” You raise your eyebrow. “I’m joking.” He wasn’t joking.

“But I can’t just suck your dry finger.”

“It’s not dry, see?” He holds up his hands as water cascades down his arm, “Perfectly wet, as all hands should be. Ignore that last part. I don't know what that meant.”

You chuckle softly at his nervousness.

“I am not sucking hot tub water off of your finger Innie. Come, follow me.” You say as you get out, grabbing your towel.

He follows quickly like a duckling following its mother as you lead him to the kitchen. You open it and get out a jar of honey. Turning to Jeongin with what you hold like a trophy, you stand there beaming and he can’t help but to swoon internally at how cute you are.

“What about the tooth nightmare?” Jeongin quips.

Your smile falls and you pout.

Oh how he wants to kiss the pout off of your plump lips.

“A little honey won’t hurt, like I said, I’m not sucking hot tub water off of your finger.”

He watches as you dance around the kitchen, grabbing a teaspoon and taking a seat beside him on the island.

As you scoop the teaspoon into the honey, he hears you mutter something along the lines of ‘I can’t believe I am doing this.’

You hold the spoon up to his mouth.

“Have a little taste first, see if it’s nice.”

He squints playfully at you before his tongue pokes out of his mouth to taste the sweet substance.

In the corner of his eye, he watches as your eyes bore into his lips. Being a tease, he licks them, just so he can witness that wonderful reaction in which you hitch your breath and then pretend you weren’t staring directly at his mouth.

“Sweet as ever,” He swipes his index finger across the spoon and holds his finger up and makes a come hither motion. “Come taste for yourself.”

You place the spoon on the island before leaning forwards to try and capture his finger.

He moves his hand towards him, making you nearly fall off the stool. He chuckles deeply, his hand going to your thigh to steady you.

“Come on, I said come and taste for yourself.” He teases.

You sit back, your eyes momentarily looking at his smirk before it falls back to his finger. The honey glistens in the light, a trail making its descent down his finger as if it’s racing away to save its life.

You grab his wrist, taking him by surprise, but he tsks at you.

Ignoring his disapproval at your impatience, you slowly lick the trail of honey that was trying to escape. Your tongue ascends to the tip before your lips enclose around his finger.

You close your eyes, relishing in the dulcet taste as you suck all of it off.

The sight of you, his best friend, sat here in your bathing suit: damp, is making his head go berserk. He is trying to fight the violent urge to moan out loud at this sudden turn of events.

What causes his swimming trunks to tighten is the moan you release around his finger at the taste. You had to have done that on purpose you little tease.

Once sated, you release his finger with a pop. Looking up at him with a wide smile and a bat of your eyelashes, he swears he’s being hypnotised.

This act alone has made an indelible impact on the relationship between the two of you. It would be a waste if he didn’t take this opportunity whilst it is still arising.

And it certainly was an opportunity he would be an idiot to miss. Which is why it explains the way you two are situated on the sofa. Jeongin is sitting upright as your head rests on his thighs. Except your soft lips have moulded around his dick so nicely.

You are cockwarming him. His suggestion considering he just couldn’t ignore the hard on he got from the way you sucked his finger earlier.

Every now and then your cheeks would hollow or your tongue would swirl around the head or you would just take it upon yourself to bob your head up and down.

“Y/n, being coy only gets you so far. You know what you’re doing, moving your tongue like that, shit. I thought you just wanted your mouth full hm?” He brings a hand down and starts to stroke the side of your head.

You look up at him with those eyes and he can’t take it anymore. Not when you look as good and cute as you do right now.

His hand that was stroking your head, grabs a fistful of your hair and uses it to tug and pull your head on and off his dick.

Happily obliging, you start to pump him with your hand, twisting around the length. Your other hand focuses on playing with his balls, making him release a low moan.

“Know you wanted this, huh baby? Yeah you did. You just wanted to have my fat cock on your tongue. Isn’t that right?” He says as his head lulls back.

The film becomes a forgotten task as you drool and take him further down your throat.

He pulls you off of him and you let out a small whine.

“What? Don’t whine. Do you already miss me in your pretty mouth?” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to come down your throat. Be good and let me fuck you right and I’ll let you suck my thumb yeah?” He says panting.

You nod.

“Need your words baby.”

“Yes, please fuck me Innie. Please let me have your thumb in my mouth, please.” You beg.

He smiles and positions you so that you lay on your back. He lowers himself, kissing down the valley of your chest and down your stomach. His lips are soft as he kisses, licks and even sucks the skin down to your core.

“It would be awfully rude of me to not taste how sweet you are before fucking you. You’d like that wouldn’t you? My mouth, my breath, my tongue.” He purrs.

As he places open mouthed kisses around your core, you try to shut your legs but he opens them wider. His arms propped in a way where you can’t close them.

Without warning, his mouth is on you. Wet, sloppy and warm as he devours you in your most sacred place of your body.

“Just like that, Innie. Your fucking mouth, oh my~” You moan as your hands travel down to his hair, tugging on his roots.

His tongue dances around your hole before entering it. The sensational feeling makes your back arch off of the sofa.

He listened to your body, watched how it reacted to certain things he did. What sounds you made when he swirled his tongue.

It wasn’t long before you came undone on him. That didn’t even seem to be what Jeongin had wanted to do most desperately, but he just had to taste you.

You take a deep breath as he slips in. He goes slow at first, letting your body accommodate his size before he starts to lose his composure and fuck into you like a wild rabbit.

Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and he loves nothing more than to listen to the sounds he is causing you to make.

“Open your mouth pretty.”

You do as you're told. He places his thumb in his mouth, wetting the pad before smearing some of it on your lips and shoving it into your awaiting mouth.

You immediately start to suck on his thumb. His fingers rest on the side of your neck as his other hand resides on your hip.

“You feel so good I don’t know if I can hold out. Look at you sucking my thumb like it’s my cock.” He says, his voice shaking.

He continues to pump inside of you and you clench around him. He groans out and takes his thumb out your mouth and squeezes your cheeks together.

“Squeeze me again darling and I’ll come.” Before you can speak, he closes the distance between the two of you and swallows your moans.

Your tongues are certainly getting to know each other as you suck on it before you clench again making his hips falter and soon enough, filling you up.

You follow suit not long after, reaching your high as you moan out his name and wrap your arms and legs around him. Trapping him as his arms give way and he falls on top of you.

His head falls into the space between your head and your shoulder as he places soft kisses along your neck and collarbone.

The hum of the television playing the movie the two of you paid no attention to plays as you both caught your breath and enjoy the silence between you.

“You like mouths or something?” Jeongin breaks the silence.

“Something like that. I like yours. Been dreaming of your lips on me since forever.” You say, your hands stroking down the crease in between his shoulder blades.

“So fucking hot.” He lifts his head up and places a long, tender kiss to your lips. His hand caresses your side as he smiles down at you.

“We need to restart the movie, don’t worry, I think I have some ice cream that we can eat.”

Since his suspicions were confirmed, Jeongin is sure to have a lot more fun with you!

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you.

TAGLIST: @lovestay4evr @sarahatthecrisco @dramaticnobody @fairy-lixie

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sapphic-gardn · 8 months

Text

Dancing With The Devil

dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.

Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!

Word count: 4.9k

a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.

Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.

—

Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.

“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.

“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.

While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.

The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.

You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.

“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.

An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.

The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.

You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.

Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.

“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.

“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”

You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.

“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.

“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.

Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.

You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.

When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.

“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.

“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.

Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.

No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.

“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.

Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.

“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”

“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.

Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.

“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”

“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.

“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.

With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.

“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.

Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.

Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.

When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.

“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.

Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.

“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”

“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.

“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?

“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.

Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.

The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.

Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.

“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.

“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.

He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.

Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.

“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.

The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.

“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.

“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.

The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.

Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.

He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.

Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.

You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.

With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.

“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.

You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.

“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.

“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”

Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.

“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.

“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.

When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.

“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.

The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.

Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.

“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.

You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.

Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.

He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.

Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.

Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.

“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”

“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.

“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.

Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.

As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”

“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.

Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.

You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.

“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.

You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.

“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.

A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”

—

a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3

taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery

#dbf!joel #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #dbf!joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel miller apologist #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #dbf!joel miller

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mangowafflesss · 7 months

Text

Antique Soldiers | Ghost!141

Summary: Going into an antique store you're drawn to a beautiful box which is sealed until you take it home only for the inhabitants inside be released.

Word Count: 5K+

Mythic Month HQ

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

You were going to stay inside today, maybe curl up onto your sofa and watch your favourite films but no. You decided to help out your friend instead, you loved her with all of your heart but sometimes you really hate the fact you can never say no to her, which means you agreeing to do things without even realising what you’re agreeing to.

She was directing some production for her end of term project. Creating some sort of crack den for vampires. You weren't really paying attention to what it was about but you agreed to be on set design. You've never done anything like that before but all she said was it to be ‘spooky vampire vibes’.

You had spent all last night in your bed with your laptop on Pinterest, you were so far into your research of ‘vampire vibe’ decor that you hadn’t realised the sun was starting to rise and you were significantly hungrier than before.

Tugging your coat tighter around yourself you trek down the highly decorated streets. It was close to halloween so you dodged carved pumpkins and hanging cobwebs from shop signs and awnings. Your town always goes all out even though it really isn't a popular holiday around these parts.

You stop in your tracks as you spot your destination in front of you. An old antique shop that sells things for dirt cheap. The owner has lived above it for years, there's a silly rumour that they're actually a witch but you don't believe in such things.

The front door opened with a jingle of a bell which echoed around the quiet shop. You felt uneasy as you ventured into the small space. There were so many things in here so you were careful to not accidentally knock anything over. You walked past a mirror that had definitely survived a fire or something, the reflection was all hazy and the outsides were black with specks of the original gold peeking through. It looked like there was someone else standing inside of it but you quickly looked away before you fully saw anything.

Feeling a shiver go up your spine you have a sudden feeling you're being watched. You looked around you but couldn't see anyone - not even a worker. Weird.

As you look through shelves of things, you come across a table with a small box sitting on it. It was absolutely beautiful, it was silver with blue gems embedded into different slots. Picking it up you look at it closer and feel something move around inside, feeling curious you try to open it but sadly you can't.

“Beautiful isn't it” you flinch as you turn and see a woman standing next to you. Her dark hair covered part of her face but you could clearly make out the wrinkles decorating her face.

“How much is it? There isn't a price tag” you blurt out and ask before you even realise you said anything. Is it weird to be drawn to something so much? The woman gives it a long look before smiling at you “free, take it” you furrow your brows at her and then look at the box in your hands. It looked so precious and expensive, why would she give it to you for free?

“Are you sure? I can always give you something” you offer while moving towards your purse but a hand on your arm stops you “take it, it's yours now” is all she says before walking away leaving you alone once more.

You exited the store but then came to the realisation that you didn't buy anything for your set. You look back through the window of the store and see the ‘closed’ sign swinging as if it was just turned. “Great… just great” you huff and then notice that it's a lot darker outside. How long were you in there for?

Looking down at the box in your arms you groan at your stupid infatuation with it but hold it closer to your chest and storm back to where you parked your car.

It had been a couple of days and you woke up to the feeling of your apartment freezing cold. Pulling on a warm jumper, you pull the sleeves over your hands to try and gain some warmth into them. Rubbing your arms you walk over to the thermostat, but when you see the temperature you become confused. It's a normal temperature so why do you feel so cold?

Moving further into your home the temperature changes and you test the different rooms. Every room was the temperature it was supposed to be except your bedroom. Walking over to your whiteboard of things to remember you write down ‘call maintenance’ onto the list.

Sighing you go back into your freezing bedroom and get changed then grab your bag to go to your first class. What you don't realise is that the pretty sealed box you bought a couple of days ago was laying wide open on the top of your dresser.

Your day was long and your friend was breathing down your neck about this stupid set design so you stayed behind and finished it off. When you get home you go into your bedroom and get ready for the shock of a cold temperature but when it doesn’t come you freeze. “Hmm maybe I don't have to call maintenance after all” you smile before going to your board and wipe the note off but then see the black marker is smeared over the white background. Looking closer it looks like finger marks which confuses you “What the?”

*BANG*

You flinch at the sudden sound and peer around the corner to where you heard the sound come from. You see your bedroom door is now shut and eye it suspiciously before taking a deep breath and slowly walking towards it. If someone was inside of your apartment you would have seen them due to the lack of size and space you have but then again how do you explain the wiped off marker.

Either it was an intruder or your friend was playing a trick on you, she had a spare key and has loved playing pranks on you since you were in high school. Taking another big deep breath you shake off your tense shoulders and grip the bedroom door handle, twisting it fast and barge through the door to find nothing.

“I must be going crazy” you huff a laugh and then stop when something catches your eye. There was a reflection in your mirror and it looked like a man but it quickly disappeared and you looked all around your room and your eyes landed on something else.

The box.

Slowly walking over to where it sat on your dresser, the blue silk interior grabs your attention and you eagerly look inside only to find… dogtags?

Reaching inside you hold one up in the air and read it “Kyle Garrick” quirking an eyebrow up you gather the others into your hands and also read their names “Well Kyle, Johnny, Simon and John I don't know if you're real but if you are why are you in a box?” you question and feel something breathe in your ear. You flick your head to the side and look behind you, you're starting to get freaked out now but something in the back of your mind is laughing at you.

Your gut feeling was saying for you to run, your eyes look at your open bedroom door and you dart for it. As you were about to pass through the threshold it slammed shut in your face and you grabbed the handle which was red hot. Letting out a hiss you hold your hand and feel the top layer of your skin burn.

Backing away from the door you look at your window and groan when you realise they don't open far due to you being so high up. Reaching for your phone you pick it up but then you see the battery is dead “What the fuck?” you could've sworn it was at least 40%.

Throwing it down on your bed your mind keeps nagging at you to go to the box. Glancing over at the glistening silver material you hesitate before touching it again. The dogtags were still laying inside and you picked all of them up, holding them in one hand as you investigated the box. You felt along the silk interior for anything stuck into it but you couldn't find anything. Flipping it upside down however an engraving stood out to you with a familiar name carved in the silver.

Your name was in bold capital letters, you ran your thumb along it and felt every indent of each initial. “This has to be some sort of joke” you put it back down and go to pick up your phone to charge it and call someone, you need answers and you have a feeling your friend was behind this.

As you turn around you let out a scream when you see four men looking at you. Your hand tightened around the dog tags wrapped around your hand as you stood there frozen on the spot.

Get out of there! Your mind screamed at you but you were in some sort of daze.

You tried to move but your feet were stuck and your heartbeat got faster with every breath you took. “Don't be afraid we're not going to hurt you” one says with his arms raised in the air, he took a step towards you but you managed to step back, your ass was pressed up against the dresser and you felt behind you. The box was in reach and you flung it at them but watched in horror as it went through them. The loud clattering sound was the only noise filling your senses.

“What the fuck?” is all you managed to get out before making a break for it and ran towards them, all logic in your mind went out of the window at your actions but they were guarding the door and you needed to get out of here.

Arms however wrapped around your body and you were flung to the bed and held down “let me go!” you wiggle around to get yourself free but it was no use, you were stuck and it sucked terribly.

“Calm down! breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth” someone grabs your chin and your face to face with one of the men, he has scars on his face which somehow seemed to calm you down. Some connected with one another and you snapped out of it when you felt something lightly tap your face.

“Hey… we won't hurt you, my name's Kyle. What's yours?” his voice was soft and you almost fell into the security of it until you came back to reality. The other man had already let go of you but you scrambled up your bed until you were sitting on your pillows with your back to the headboard. You were shaking slightly and the cold feeling from this morning had come back. You looked at each individual who was surrounding your bed, they watched you with curious eyes but they didn’t seem to look threatening. Okay maybe they did a little with their big bodies but there was something trusting about them.

After what felt like forever you crawled to the bottom of your bed and reached out a hand, carefully pushing through the abdomen of the scarred man. “This is insane…” you breathe out and a shiver goes up your arm, goosebumps raising along with your hairs.

You saw movement in the corner of your eye and another man stood before you with something in his hand. You looked at him and he dropped the item in your hand which was one of the dog tags. “Johnny Mactavish, is this you?” he nods his head and you grab the rest which are sprawled out on your bed and gather them in your palm.

“These belong to all of you?”

“Yes they do”

“Why are they in a box though in some antique store?” you had to ask the question but maybe they didn't even know. “Dunno but it's stuffy in there” one of them jokes and you stare blankly at him.

You're joking with ghosts… dead people are in front of you right now and you’re joking with them as if they are still alive.

Sighing heavily you ask for them to introduce themselves to you and then they slip each of their tags around your neck, they jingled with every move you made but you didn't mind it. You didn't feel comfortable talking to them in your room so you asked them to go to the living room instead, while you thought they would open the door they didn't and instead walked through it.

When you entered your living room they were all waiting for you, each with different types of smiles on their faces, you sat on the sofa with your head in your hands.

“So you guys are ghosts”

“Yes” they say in unison and you run your palms down your face and groan “okayyy and how did you die?” you ask but then they begin to awkwardly look at each other clearly uncomfortable with the question.

You felt something lower itself next to you and John looks at you with a solemn expression on his face “We were on a mission but unfortunately couldn't trust the information we were given, we were captured and executed on the spot, youngest first up to the oldest” you let out a gasp at his words and went to give him a friendly touch of reassurance only for your hand to go through him.

“I'm sorry…” your hand hovers over where his shoulder is and he appreciated the gesture and placed his hand on yours. Your hand felt as if it was inside of the freezer by his touch and he could tell you were uncomfortable and retreated it.

As you stared at his hand you were suddenly curious about something “How is it that I can see you guys?” you look over to the others and Simon steps forward “We're showing ourselves to you, also you have something we’re attached to” he points to the metallic chains around your neck which makes you look down at them and touch them.

“Why can I only touch you some of the time?” You turned to John and he tapped his head “It takes a lot of concentration, can’t do it all the time or else then you won’t be able to see or hear us” you nod your head as you take in the information and then stand up.

“I see… When did the box open?” you asked while standing there and tapping your pointer finger on your lip in thought. “Around this morning” Johnny says and everyone agrees with murmurs and nods.

“So what you're saying is you watched me sleep and get dressed today” you looked at him and he seemed to freeze on the spot and become flustered. “Umm well uh…” he slowly disappeared from your vision and you sighed “Really? Even in death guys are still creeps”

“We are not creeps! You just didn’t know we were there” Kyle states and you narrow your eyes at him before rolling them and walking to your front door.

“Well it was nice meeting you but you may leave now, go bother someone else” you motion to the hallway outside your apartment and they stay where they are and then Johnny comes back into view shaking his head side to side.

“Come on, gooo” you move your arm quickly hoping it'll spur them into movement but they're all still rooted like a tree.

“We can't. We're stuck here” Simon says flatly “You fucking with me right. No?” your mouth was open like a fish out of water and you slammed the door behind you not realising its currently very late and your neighbours are probably asleep.

“Well if you’re going to be here all the time then we’re going to have to have some rules” you stand like a mother with your hands on your hips and giving each individual a look to let them know you're serious.

“Of course. What are your rules?” John sits on the arm of your sofa and waits patiently, you appreciate the gesture and his respect for you.

“Everyone just come over here please” you motion to your sofa and they all do as you say. You stand in front of them pacing.

“Okay so first, no going in my room” they all nod and you bite your lip while trying to think of another rule. “Secondly, no - ummm. Bathroom! Do not go in there okay?” Kyle lets out a small giggle and you sigh.

“That’s all I got” you say, shrugging your shoulders and collapsing into your armchair. You were exhausted from your busy day and the showing up of your new ‘roommates’. Running a hand down your face you let out a yawn and then there was a knock at your door.

Walking over, the guys as well, you look through your peephole and see who it is. Opening it you see your neighbour standing there. “Thank goodness you answered, are you okay dearie? I heard you pacing around and… you talking to yourself” the older woman played with her cardigan button and you just stared blankly at her “Oh, I was- on the phone” you give her a smile but her eyes cast to the side of you which makes you panic.

“Why is your hair floating?” She didn’t seem fazed by what she said but your shoulders tense when you feel a cool breeze run up your back. Reaching up to your head you smooth down the hairs, Kyle pops up next to you with a cheeky smile on his face but you remain calm in front of your neighbour who looks… worried for you.

“I was rubbing a balloon on my head. The static and stuff” You state and she seems to become more worried “A balloon?” She looked down at her watch and then back to you “Sweetheart why don’t you go get yourself some sleep okay? And I’ll bring you some breakfast in the morning” she says, softly grabbing your hand in a caring manner.

After saying your goodbyes you shut your door softly not wanting to wake your neighbours at 3am. Turning swiftly on your heel you march towards Kyle “That wasn’t funny!” You whisper yell but all he does is shrug his shoulders and laugh. “It was funny. For me anyway” he seemed very happy with himself as he joyfully walked around your living room, looking at the photos on the walls and knocking a blanket off the back of your sofa on purpose.

“I'll put you back in the box!” you threaten and he turns around and puts his hands together while falling onto his knees “Oh please don't! I don't deserve such punishment” he laughs and you grumble something under your breath before slowly backing out of the room “John please keep him away from my stuff, you're my favourite as of now” “Hey what about me?!” Johnny shouts but you’re already in your room getting ready to go to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning you had hoped everything was a dream until you opened your bedroom door to a six foot something Simon. “Fuck me! Why are you standing there?” you placed a hand on your chest to steady your beating heart while walking through him. “I was coming to see if you were awake” he followed you as you walked to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water.

“Why?”

“The guys were annoying me”

“So you thought to come and annoy me”

You were grabbing your favourite mug from the cupboard and prepared your drink for the water. “I wanted to ask you something” you hummed for him to continue as you grabbed a spoon. “The box had your name on it, why?” you stopped where you stood by the sink and turned to face him “Thank you for reminding me” you smiled before walking past him and going to your room to find it.

When you entered it was still on the floor from when you threw it at them and your name was still engraved into the bottom. As it was tipped upside down something flew out and you looked down at the ground to see a piece of paper laying next to your foot. That most definitely wasn't there yesterday. Bending down to pick it up you turned it around and read the inky words on the page.

‘May these souls be reunited with their owner’

“Owner? That sounds like some bullshit don't you think” you look to your side but don't see Simon with you. Poking your head out to where your door is you see him leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why didn't you follow me? I was talking to you”

“Did you really forget your own rules already?”

You did forget but he didn't need to know that. “No… but we were having a conversation so that means you could come in” you held your head high and he just gave you one look and came inside of your room.

You show him the paper in your hand and he reads it, there wasn't any emotion on his face so you didn't really know what he was thinking. “Where did you get this from?” He points to the paper and then you show him the box that was tucked under your armpit.

“It flew out when I was reading the bottom”

He turned on his heel while holding the box and walked away from you. “Where are you going?” you chase after him and the tags around your neck clashed together as you did so.

When you walk into the living room the guys are all there surrounding your coffee table as they stare at the box Simon placed down along with the note.

“What does it mean?” “How do we know that she didn’t put it there last night”

They turned to look at you in unison and you somewhat felt like you were under some sort of investigation. “Why would I write something like that? Even I don't know what it means”

“Well clearly it means that she is our owner and this box belongs to her”

“Why did you buy this box in the first place?” John asks you and you give it a look and walk towards it.

“I was buying some things for a project and this was the only thing I picked up. I immediately asked for the price but the woman gave it to me for free, I never saw the engraving on the bottom” you say in the most honest way you could. “I was somewhat attracted to it” your eyes were glued to the shiny material.

“Did the woman seem weird at all?” Kyle asks and you look at him and think “Not really… she approached me out of nowhere and that was it”

“What did she look like?”

“What's with all the questions? It was just some old lady who said I could take it and that's it” you don't know why you got so defensive but they were starting to annoy you and you've only known them for a day.

“Black hair?”

“Seemed like she would smell funky” you stared at Johnny and made a face of disgust “Uh yeah…” they moved in an instant and came towards you, their bodies were so close and you felt intimidated.

“When we died we saw a woman like that and then she put us in that very box” John explained while pointing to the coffee table. “Should we go to the store and see if she's there?” you say looking at each of them and then shake your head as you remembered they can’t leave… or can they?

Turning around to your front door you opened it but then jumped out of your skin when you saw your neighbour standing there “Are you okay sweetie? I brought you breakfast” giving her a smile you quickly take it out of her hands and bring it inside before sending her back to her apartment.

“Follow me”

“We-”

“Come outside, trust me” you beckon them over with your hand and they give each other a shrug before Kyle comes running towards the door. You watch from the hallway outside your apartment, him coming your way, you had no idea if it would work but it's worth a try - and he's really trusting you in this.

He closed his eyes and ran straight over the threshold of your entrance. A smile spread over your face and the others inside looked confused “I think it has to do with these” you say while holding up the dog tags around your neck. “They were in the box, sooo if I take them with me so can you” that was your logic around it but you had no idea this idea would even work but you're glad it did.

“Simon grab the box and let's go!” you march away until you hear your name being called “Aren't you forgetting something?” John says and points to your feet, nodding your head you go back into your apartment and grab some shoes and also your car keys.

Walking down the streets with the knowledge that there are four ghosts with you and no one else knows makes you feel weird. You tried not to speak to them as you didn’t want the surprisingly busy streets to think you're talking to them or yourself…

You saw the shop ahead and headed towards it in a more hurried manner, you wanted to find this woman and wanted answers as to why she's given you four ghosts.

Opening the door the same bell jingled above the door and a woman greeted you. You've never seen her before but walked up to the counter anyway. “Hi, I was sold this box a couple of days ago and I wanted to see if the woman who sold it me was here”

The blonde gave you a smile and then frowned when she looked down at the item on the counter. “I'm sorry but we didn't sell you this” she says and you shake your head “No I came in here and picked it up from a table in the back” you point in the general direction but she gives you a disappointing smile and shakes her head.

“Well is the woman here? Dark hair and around this height” you measure where the woman was up to you and the woman shakes her head yet again “I’m the only one who works here, I'm sorry I can’t help you”

You watch as Simon and Johnny walk through the counter and investigate the back room, the girl must've felt the breeze of their bodies and turned around. You were so glad she couldn't see them.

“Have you ever had anyone of that description come in before?” you question and she turns back around to you and taps the counter thinking of an answer. “Nope not many people come in here so I would remember someone like that”

You see the guys reemerge from the back and Johnny gives you a shrug of the shoulders “Nothing there” Simon says and you admit defeat and pick up your box and turn to leave. When you walk back outside your shoulders sag and a frown appears on your face “I guess we’ll never know why she gave me this box” you kick a stone across the floor and walk back to your car with the guys behind you.

“It'll be okay, you got four smoking men to live with now, anyone would die for that” you hear Kyle say from his place next to you and you let out a laugh and unlock your car.

“I don’t particularly find dead people attractive, no offence”

Weeks later you and the guys have been getting along.

Price helped you build a bookshelf, which was collecting dust for years in its box. He couldn't actually do it for you but he told you where each thing went, it wasn’t helpful when Kyle stole one of the screws. Apparently he wasn't always like this, a jokester yes but never this playful. You didn't mind it really, it was a little annoying sometimes but he’d bring it back… after begging for it.

Simon and Johnny helped you bake. You were making some cupcakes for your friend's birthday party and you were on strict duty to make your ‘yummy cupcakes’. They weren't even special but if people liked them, then that's all that matters. Johnny did tie the apron a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t mind breathing with how he smiled so brightly at the thought he was helping you. Simon read out the recipe - even though you didn’t need it - he did read it softly but sometimes his lieutenant side came out and yelled at you for not following them directly.

You hadn’t gotten used to the fact that they just pop up out of nowhere. Playing tricks on you, making you jump or drop things when they reach out to grab you but don’t show themselves. It was as if they were trying to give you a heart attack and become like them.

You had found their social media that was never deleted and laughed at their pictures, they were bad… really bad. They didn't appreciate your judgemental looks and your laugh crying and threw things at you.

Whenever you had friends over you would have to beg them to behave but you would see them in the corner of your eye touching your friends hair or making the room unbearably cold. You had to lie and say it was just your apartment because there was no chance they would believe you had ghosts living with you,

Their dog tags were laid safely inside of the silver box on your dresser, you only wore them unless you wanted to take them out of your house, Johnny claimed it was as if they were your pet. You did remind him of the ominous note of you being their owner and he ripped it up and threw it out of the window, very dramatic.

You'd never see the woman again and you frequented the antique store after your class just to try to see her but you never got close. She just disappeared.

It was okay though, living with ghosts isn't actually as bad as it seems.

#Mangos Mythic Month🦇˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:#141 x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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fun fact about the beans day events!

According to her recent Twitter posts, Beans Day/Beansfest is memorable to Yana because she was able to create the entire event (including the story, costumes, and cards). Usually there is a different person responsible for writing the events, but since Beans Day/Beansfest was the first ever event for Twisted Wonderland, Yana was asked to handle it. She was also responsible for the second Beans Day/Beansfest event, since it is very much tied to the first and has a story which runs concurrent with the first one's.

Yana also tells us that she enjoys writing about characters getting serious about something that the audience may find pointless. This is reflected in how seriously the NRC students take the game, and is also demonstrated in Black Butler, which often features short interludes where the large cast of characters are getting up to some silly shenanigans while the overall narrative is far darker.

A lot of this makes sense in retrospect; Beans Day/Beanfest just felt very different from other story events, as it is the one of the few events (outside of the Halloween events) where the entire NRC student cast is heavily involved and has their key part to play rather than just brief asides. It's also the one I believe that Yuu is the most "involved" in the conflict and its resolution.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Black Butler #notes from the writing raven

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myfictionaldreams · 7 months

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Day 2: Roleplay - Ghostface!Steve Harrington

Summary: It had been your idea to dress up for Halloween as characters from Scream but what happens when you forget it’s Steve under the mask.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), roleplay, fear play, mask kink, being chased, discussion of safe words, groping, fingering, edging, hair pulling, rough sex, hand over mouth, creampie

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kinktober masterlist😈

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“I think I'm getting old”, came the frustrated grumble from your tired, fussy boyfriend Steve Harrington. His words weren’t boisterous as he muttered them under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at the costume laid out for him on the bed.

Not reacting to him immediately, you continue applying the eyeshadow to your eyelid, smiling as you peeked at him in the mirror, his hands resting on his hips. Biting your lip to refrain from grinning or laughing, you innocently asked, “Why’s that Stevie?”

“Because I don’t want to go to this stupid party! I just wanna stay in and watch movies”. Steve began running his fingers through his recently washed hair, the ends curling gently over the tips of his shoulders but fluffy in texture as he had yet to style it with spray and gel.

You placed your brush on the dressing table and gave him your full attention in the mirror's reflection. “It's not a stupid party; it’s a Halloween party! There’s a difference”, you say enthusiastically to try and perk up his spirits. Steve continued to look down at the bed, only raising an eyebrow in a half-ass attempt at showing his excitement, so you turned on your stool, facing directly towards him. Sighing forcefully, you stood and approached with long, sweeping steps. “Come on! It’s only this one party, and then we can stay in for the rest of the year!” Trying to use all your manipulative tactics to sweeten him up. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, your arms circled his waist, lifting his strong arms to settle over your shoulders.

Steve finally managed to tear his gaze away from the costume and towards you, but only so he could dramatically pout out his full bottom lip, his long, thick eyelashes curling up and nearly stroking his eyebrows as you melted into his warm coffee-coloured eyes. He was so handsome, and he didn’t even have to try.

Your nimble fingers slid beneath his shirt to feel the soft skin of his hips as you continued to try and elevate his excitement, “It’ll be fine, Steve, I promise”. Lifting onto your tiptoes, you captured his pouted lips with a brief, sweet kiss.

“It’s just not the same as they used to be. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive us there so it’ll save us some time to get back home again?” Steve asked as his hands smoothed over your bare shoulders, pulling you flush against his body and his warmth seeping into your skin.

You pulled away a step to give him a deadpan look, “It’s only a block away. I’m sure you’ll survive, and anyway, if you hate it, we can leave at any point”.

“Promise?”

“I promise, but we are still going. I’ve spent way too much money on the costumes to let them go to waste”, you explain whilst pulling out of his hold and sitting back in front of the mirror to continue finishing your makeup.

Steve’s attention returned to his costume, picking up the black cloak and white mask and holding it out in front of him. “Ok, I can take a quick guess as to who I’m dressing up as, but who are you supposed to be?”

You were still in your underwear, but to show him who you meant, you quickly flicked on the shoulder-length blonde wig and turned to him. “I’m Casey Becker, you know, Drew Barrymore, the girl that got killed at the start of Scream. I’m her after your Ghostface character kills me”, you explain whilst pointing to the wool cream jumper covered in splotches of deep red fake blood to match the stains on your neck and chest.

“Right”, Steve mutters before chewing on his lip, fingers once more returning to stroke through his hair before he reluctantly moves to the bathroom to continue getting ready, costume in hand.

You smiled triumphantly to yourself and continued getting ready, dressed in the simple jeans and once-cream jumper now decorated with fake stab wounds.

Waiting impatiently for Steve, with your arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, you gently knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “You ready in there, Ghostface?”

As if he was waiting for you, the door swung open almost immediately, making you jump back on instinct, but the sight before you caused a deep warmth to flush through your body. The white scream mask was resting on the top of his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes so you could still see his face, but seeing Steve in the black cloak was doing something erotic to your body; you knew this outfit would be the right decision.

Steve's mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he noticed how you shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching your eyes unfocus as they travelled up the length of his lean body, and he knew that you were becoming aroused. Confidence pumped through his veins as his spine straightened so he could pump his chest out slightly before casually leaning against the door frame, his ankle crossed over the other.

“Let me guess, you’re into this? You little freak”, he trailed off as he visually inspected your costume. Even though it wasn’t revealing anyway, his pupils expanded as he bit his lip hungrily.

Blinking quickly and shaking your head, you tried to snap your attention back to him and not all of the nasty thoughts of him wearing this costume whilst pleasuring you. Glancing away from him, you tried to remain casual and calm, “I don’t know what you mean, Harrington. Come on, let’s go, we’re already late”.

The two of you walked in the moonlight, the streetlights blinking from being faulty, but that didn’t stop the two of you from swinging your clasped hands between your bodies. Steve still had his mask pushed up onto his head so that he could watch his step and still look towards you and his vision not be distorted.

“So what is it that you like? Is it the violence? The costume? The evilness? The murder”, he extended the last word as he dipped his face and knocked his forehead against your cheek as you pushed him away laughing.

You didn’t answer him, but he was sure to have noticed how warm your face was and the unsubtle looks you were giving him from the corner of your eye. To be frank, you were near enough drooling over him in the slash killer costume. You weren’t sure what it was; maybe you were falling into the fantasy, knowing the character was a psycho killer but had your beautiful boyfriend's face, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you but still looked scary and murderous.

Steve continued talking, not phased by your silence, “Maybe I should wear this costume when we get home, especially as it’s getting you so hot and bothered. I haven’t seen you like this since I was in my scoops ahoy sailors outfit”. His sizeable, warm hand squeezed yours to show he was teasing as his shoulder bumped into yours.

“Will you stop it? We’re nearly there, and then you can go and annoy someone else”, you say matter-of-factly.

Steve scoffs, “Why would I want to do that when I seem to be doing such a good job of annoying you?”. Without missing a beat, he released your hand, but only so he could wrap his arms around your waist to spin you around on the spot, causing you to scream out and kick your legs to try and make him put you down.

“Steve, stop!” you laughed despite the harshness of your tone. Thankfully, when he finally placed you back onto your two feet, he kissed your lips, then returned to holding your hand and tugging you along for the rest of the journey towards the party.

Once the two of you had arrived, he kept his mask down, which was where you became even more confused and momentarily forgot that it was Steve and not a random guy. Especially as he kept quietly stalking up next to you, and after a few times of you jumping in freight, he found his new favourite game for the night; the drinking and the dancing were not his priority with his plans for the night.

Steve even managed to sneak into the bathroom as he overheard you saying to Robin that you were about to go and use it. He hid behind the shower curtain, waiting for you to use the toilet before sliding behind your warm body as you washed your hands, his hands caging around you, forcing your hips into the countertop.

You screamed in fright as his mask hovered close to the shell of your ear. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” he asked, trying to use a low voice to copy the movie.

For a second, you forgot it was Steve, the thumping from your heart showing your anxiety until it all returned to you. Glaring at him in the mirror whilst clutching your chest, you chastised him, “Steve! You scared the fucking shit out of me, stop doing that!”

Steve only laughed at your reaction, loosening his hold around you enough that you could turn in his arms and push up his mask to see his hair wet from sweat sticking to his forehead and a broad smile across his handsome face.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you; it’s only me! Anyway, I don’t know why you keep freaking out; you’re the one who wanted me to wear this outfit”.

You were about to continue telling him off when he cut you off with a simple press of his lips against yours, lingering for a second and capturing your breath before pulling away, his lids heavy as he stared at the area where you were both just connected. He always knew how to win you around again, and you instantly found yourself forgiving him for the jump scare.

Gently you shoved his chest before gripping a handful of the black cloak, mumbling, “Asshole, I thought we were supposed to be a team”.

Steve’s gloved fingers tipped your chin so you’re forced to look up at him as he gave you a condescending head tilt. “Aww, you don’t have to be scared of me, Princess. I won’t hurt you. Unless that’s what you want, hmm?” his voice lowered as he pushed his body further against yours, his chest brushing against yours as his face dropped closer. He was so close that you could smell the beer on his breath, and you were entirely ready to fall into whatever he had planned, which, with the look he was giving you, was something naughty.

However, all of your hopes and dreams for having a quick fuck were destroyed as Steve dramatically bellowed, “Maybe I’ll gut you like a fish! Blah”, he began to act out, stabbing your stomach with the retractable plastic knife that was a part of the costume.

A heavy sigh left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him as he pretended blood was spurting out of your middle, mimicking actions and being his usual goofy self. Usually, you’d be laughing with him. Still, damn, you were distracted and highly hopeful for the other things you had planned, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t gone through with them, especially as you were only seconds away from sinking to your knees and submitting to him.

The party continued for a few more hours, and Steve was more than ready to leave; having stopped drinking at midnight, he was getting to the end of his social battery. You were, too, so the two of you, thankfully, exited the silent streets hand in hand. You looked significantly different from when you’d arrived; the wig was missing as others had been trying it on, and now, it had disappeared, and the make-up and fake blood had mostly sweated off from your brief stints of dancing.

On the other hand, Steve still looked effortlessly beautiful, with his outfit still looking the same, but you were sure he must have been sweating under the thick, dark material.

Halfway home, your steps were abruptly halted as Steve stopped, patting over his clothes, looking for something, and cursing loudly when he couldn’t find it. “Shit, fuck! I left the keys at the party!”

“What! Steve, I’m not walking back there. Why did you even take them out of your pocket?!” you rub your tired eyes, frustrated and adamant that you wouldn’t walk the small distance back to the party.

Steve gave you an apologetic smile, and his lips pressed together firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, I’ll only be a minute; just wait here.” He turned and began jogging back to the party, around the corner and out of your sight.

Standing in the quiet Halloween night, the chill from the autumnal breeze ran more profound than just your skin as you became instantly unnerved by being on your own as the streetlamp at the end of the street continued to flick on and off. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and keep yourself warm, you quietly whispered to yourself for Steve to hurry up, wanting nothing more than to be in bed with his arms wrapped around you.

“Come on, Stevie”, you pleaded under your breath, the warmth of it fogging in the air in front of your face. Dancing on the spot slightly, you moved your numbing fingers down your sides to slide them into your back pockets to steal some heat, but then they were interrupted by the cool metal of your door keys. “Shit!” you fumed, not remembering that you’d had the keys on you the entire time, and Steve didn’t forget them and had made a wasted trip.

Staring in the direction he’d left again, you internally cursed yourself, knowing that Steve would return pissed off and irritable with you. Deciding that it would probably save some time if you also returned to the party to find Steve, you took a single step back down the street, but a branch crack splintered through the air. Your head twisted toward the noise, but all you could see were twisting, endless shadows that even the occasional flash of the street light couldn’t illuminate.

Taking a deep breath to try and steady the nerves that were tremouring through your body, enough so that you clasped your fingers together to see if that would cease the movements. Maybe you were paranoid, but you could have sworn someone was watching. You wouldn’t even say it was paranoia anymore as you were sure someone was watching because the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck stood on end.

MybMaybe was just some drunken kids from the party or someone in one of the homes that lined the streets looking out of the window to see who was standing on the sidewalk. However, you couldn’t spot any curtains opening or see any drunken person stumbling with their steps.

You weren’t sure what to do; usually, when you felt uncomfortable or frightened, you would be with Steve, and he’d do anything to pull you out of the situation. You could run back to your home, but then you’d be there all by yourself, and then what would happen when Steve left the party to find that you weren’t waiting for him anymore? Maybe you could go back towards the party and meet Steve, but that also meant you’d be walking past the area where the loud noise had come from.

“Is anyone there?!” you shouted in the general direction of the noise, hoping it would draw people's attention or frighten off whoever was there.

“Don’t you watch scary movies? You’re never supposed to shout who’s there”. Out of the shadows creeped Ghostface, his mask down and the plastic knife in his gloved hand at his side.

Thankfully, for once, due to your body being on high alert, you instantly remembered that this was Steve and not a stranger and recognised his voice, which had been challenging to do at the party.

Clutching your chest, you sucked in a greedy breath, “Steve! You fucking scared me. Why the hell would you do that?” Steve didn’t respond. He just casually strolled forward, almost swaggering with his steps, masked head tilted slightly. Trying to calm your pounding heart, you nervously pulled the keys out of your back pocket to show him, I’ve got the keys. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I had them in my jeans pockets”. You rambled on, the nerves continuing to take over your body as he didn’t say anything, just taking step after step towards you.

The keys in your hand rattled from your shakes, and finally, instinct took over as you took a giant step backwards, away from Steve. Your thoughts were all over the place. This was Steve; you could tell by the height and build, and it had been his voice that had spoken/ However, the way he was walking towards you like he was searching for his prey, his next victim, the thrill of it all gave you the wrong reaction, despite your fear, you were getting turned on by it.

Warmth bloomed in the apples of your cheeks that spread through your chest and deep into your abdomen, nipples pebbling beneath your jumper and rubbing against the inside of your bra. With each step that Steve took forward, you’d take one backwards, a game of cat and mouse ensuring.

A moment of silence passed, the two of you just staring at one another, until he lifted his fake knife and your eyes were drawn to this as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to run, Princess?”

It was an automatic response, the flight or fight intuition kicking in as you immediately ran. You ran like there was an actual killer after you, adrenaline and fear pulsing through your veins that helped keep your instincts on high alert as you ran toward your home. Even though your home wasn’t far away, it still felt like an eternity of running, the muscles straining and chest burning from sucking cold air desperately as you finally collided with your front door.

You’d been unable to hear Steve close behind you, but you didn’t waste any time, fingers trembling as you pressed the key into the lock and turned, rushing inside, slamming the door closed, and flicking the lock.

You waited, listening and waiting for him to bang on the door, but only silence greeted you from outside and the thumping of your terrified heart and heavy breaths in your ear. Steve didn’t turn up; even as you looked through the door's peephole, he still wasn’t there, so you took a few steps away, frowning in confusion.

Then it dawned on you. The back door. The back door, where Steve knew where the keys were hidden in the plant pot.

Spinning quickly, your sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floor as you’d intended to run to the back door to check it was still closed, but a prominent dark figure blocked your route. Once again, you knew it was Steve, even from how he was breathing heavily, the outline of his broader form and the faint smell of his aftershave that you could smell now that he was closer.

You weren’t entirely sure how far he wanted to go with this playing around, but you were not going to ruin the moment and willing to see just what Steve had in mind.

Taking a shaky step backwards away from the figure, you lifted your hands, palms up in defeat. “My boyfriend will be home soon, and he’s big; he’ll kick your ass”, your voice wobbled, which was half put on by you but also a little bit truthful with the anticipation.

Ghostface chuckled lowly, his head tilting, and the dominance and lure of the sight had your insides clenching with need.

“Oh, your boyfriend won’t be helping you tonight. No one will”, Steve stated confidently and didn’t give you any warning before he bolted forward. The rush caused you to jump and scream, turning and running in the opposite direction, but it was a useless attempt as his arms wrapped around your waist, pushing forward until you were flush against the wall, his chest hard against your back. You struggled and whimpered in his hold, trying to sound as desperate as possible, but Steve held firm but not enough to hurt.

The mark was next to your ear as he growled, “Now, where do you think you’re going, huh? I thought we could have some fun. What do you say?” You struggled against but mostly so you could grind your ass against his hips, showing him you wanted to keep playing.

However, your lack of words had your boyfriend freezing, the tone of his voice softening as he whispered, “Colour?”

Huffing out a laugh at his concern and momentary slip of the roleplay, you whispered against the wall, “Very fucking green”. You found it endearing that he still ensured you were okay and wanted to continue.

That seemed to be the last of the friendly acts, however, as Steve pushed harder against your body until your cheek was firm against the cool wallpapered wall, the plastic of his mask against the back of your neck. His gloved hands shifted lower over the front of your body, over the mounds of your breasts, your jumper-covered navel and past your hips until he was cupping your jean-covered cunt with a deep moan that rumbled against your back.

It was an automatic response to mewl and rolled your hips into the hold, feeling the pressure from your underwear digging into your clit but needing more. Your noises turned back into whimpers as his fingers quickly snapped over the button of your jeans, and his hand disappeared beneath the material until he was cupping you again, but this time directly to your skin. You pulled your hips away this time, but primarily because of the uncomfortable material; his gloves were cheap synthetic material and were rough against your sensitive, throbbing clit as his palm pressed against it.

Steve chuckled, the tips of his index and middle finger close to your entrance, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to finger you with the rough material; you weren’t sure it would feel nice, but this wasn’t what he was laughing at. “You’re such a desperate little thing aren’t you? I can feel how wet you are through the gloves”.

Your entire body warmed in embarrassment. You should have guessed that he would have felt how turned on you are, especially with how you could feel the slick gathered in your underwear, but you hadn’t considered him feeling it through the gloves.

Ghostface, always the one to tease and humiliate, then did something that had your gasps turning into surprise and shock. The pressure of his glove hand disappeared from between your legs, and from your position, you could see it disappear beneath his mask, where a sucking noise could then be heard as he devoured the juices from the fabric gloves.

“S-St-“ his name was on the tip of your tongue, mostly on instinct to submit to him by moaning his name, but you were also cut off by a deep, gravely groan as the man trapping you against the wall showed you just how much he loved your taste. His hips rolled against your lower back first, thrusting his clothed but painfully hard cock into you, then his hand reappeared from beneath the mask, but this time without the glove as he’d pulled it off with his teeth and dropped onto the floor.

“Why is it you always taste so much better when you’re scared?” he continues to taunt, and you knew it wasn’t a normal reaction, but your pussy clenched so hard that Ghostface had to wait a moment before he was able to push his fingers back into your underwear and his middle and ring finger penetrated your eagerly awaiting hole.

You rose onto your tip toes whilst attempting to back into him to rub yourself against him, but he held you firmly against the wall. His fingers did not waste any time either as they gathered the slick to coat the entire length of his two digits and pumped in and out with a slight curl as he pulled out.

Once more, it was on instinct that your hips were rocking to match his movements, pleasuring pounding into your core as your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your parted lips that you wouldn’t be able to hold back even if you tried to What’s more the position was adding to the thrill, your hands sprayed and pressed against the cool wall, your cheek aching from the pressure of being pushed forward and the warm body surrounding your entire back with the plastic part of his masks against the back of your head as he rested his temple against you, watching and listening to every little noise that he caused you to make.

Ghostface doesn’t stop pleasuring you, his fingers continuing to pump into you as his palm occasionally pressed firmly against your clit, adding more stimulation. You were a sopping wet mess that could feel that familiar tightening between your legs. Where his fingers curled, and strokes began to harden as your orgasm tingled on the very edge; just one or two more movements and you’d be right there.

But Ghostface knew you were getting to that point, could hear and see how close you were, and he wasn’t having that, not yet anyway, so he swiftly pulled his hand out of your underwear.

“Uh uh, I don’t think so. Did you really think I’d let you cum? Definitely not; where would be the fun in that?” he laughs to emphasise his mocking, making you feel degraded and mind-muddled from needing him to continue pleasuring you but also wanting to push him away so he could stop being so mean.

With your minimal room, you tried to force your elbow into his stomach, but he could already sense your move and began sharply tugging on your hair with his still-wet fingers. His other arm circled your middle, helping with his grip and plan to move you away from the wall. Due to his taller size, he could easily manipulate you to walk in the direction of the kitchen; both of you can only walk without hitting any furniture due to muscle memory and the thin slither of light streaking through the blinds from the blinking street light.

Breath rushed out of you as Ghostface pushed you over your wooden table, your hands and face again pressed against the surface. You were dazed from the fingering, so you didn’t immediately react when he roughly pulled down your jeans and underwear until they were discarded somewhere in the darkness. In actuality, you sighed in relief from having the air breeze over your aching cunt and only responded with your own needs as your hips wiggled enticingly towards the man behind you.

This was rewarded with a sharp smack to your left arse cheek, halting any fuzzy happiness you’d been wrapped in. A leg shifted between your legs, shifting them further apart as the sound of clothes shuffling was heard from behind you as Ghostface began to lift his cloak and bunch it around his hips.

You weren’t able to see him correctly over your shoulder, but your pussy clenched with anticipation, especially as you were only able to see the mask. It still scared you, but knowing it was Steve only made you back up into him until his cock was suddenly being thrust between your arse cheeks.

“Careful now, Princess, don’t want to be stabbed with something now, do we?” Ghostface chuckled right before he slipped his cock, inch after inch, into your pulsing hole. He wasn’t slow; he moved with intent, wanting it to be overwhelming, which is just what you wanted, and automatically, you raised onto your tip toes even whilst leaning over the table.

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyes shutting as all thoughts focused on the fullness you felt between your legs and the desperate need for more.

“Nope, none of that, don’t want the neighbours hearing or your boyfriend, got to keep nice and quiet whilst I fuck whats mines”, Ghostface grunted sharply as the hand that was still gloved now wrapped around your mouth, so you were forced to breathe heavily out of your nose.

On instinct, you gripped his wrist but didn’t pull away and just tried to concentrate on controlling your breaths as his hips began to move in short, quick rotations. In and out, sloppy fast thrusts that had deep warmth radiating from your cunt and down your thighs.

Sweat was gathering over your body from behind, stimulated and so close to Ghostface, who was also like a human radiator with all his clothes layers. You could feel that he had been wearing jeans as they brushed with each thrust against your sensitive thighs, and it only again reminded you that this was Steve as your hips shifted back to meet his.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure increasing again like it had just before you moved away from the hallway wall. You wanted to cum, no, you needed to cum, wanting to soak Ghostface’s jeans with your juices, wanting to be good for the fake murderer and show that you could cum on his cock.

“You wanna cum? I can feel you getting tighter”, Ghostface asked next to your ear, his voice rough and gravely from where he was out of breath.

He momentarily released his cover of your mouth to allow you to speak, “Yes, please!”.

Ghostface wanted to laugh at your polite response, already knowing you were slipping into a submissive headspace from the way you were backing up to meet his thrusts and holding onto his wrist like it was your lifeline. But he wanted to keep the roleplaying going for a little longer, even though he was desperate to hear your sweet orgasmic mewls.

His hand again covered your lips as he tutted, “No, I don’t think so. I’m going to cum first, and then you can cum, but not until I do.”

You cried against his palm, feeling like your breath was stuck in your throat as you tried to control your euphoria, but it was difficult to do that and breathe through your nose.

Dizziness swayed through your mind as you slumped against the table, releasing your hold of his wrist as you needed to try and control yourself. Ghostface noticed the change and would have kissed the back of your head if he didn’t have his mask on, so he finally allowed you some comfort by releasing his hold on your mouth, letting you suck in deep breaths that filled your lungs.

This allowed him to hold onto your hips, holding you still and fucking deeper, his bulbous tip brushing against your cervix and thighs bruising into the edge of the table. Faster and harder, he moved, chasing his orgasm until finally his balls tightened to his body, and his shaft hardened with each spurt of hot seed that began to coat your inner walls.

You could feel it and hear Ghostfaces’ orgasm, and you finally relaxed the mental torture of holding back your orgasm and came with him. Your walls clenched in quick flutters that helped to milk the last drops of Ghostface’s cum before he collapsed over your back, mask resting on your shoulder and hands on either side of your head.

The two of you were breathing heavily, too lost in the moment even to talk before he moved first. Starting with a gasp, Steve pulled off his face, and you could see over your shoulder that his hair was drenched, sticking to his forehead and face gleaming in the small streaks of light.

“Fuck, it was warm in there; they need to make them with a small fan inside or something, holy shit!” Steve sits up slightly but still leaning his hands on either side of your head, and he catches your eye and grins, showing all of his teeth and eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’ve loved this, I’ve missed kissing you” he dipped his face and kissed your cheek, leaving a few drips of his sweat on your skin, but you didn’t care, not when he was looking at you in a way that was making your heart race.

“So that mask, we’re keeping it, right?” you finally speak, voice hoarse as you try to smile over your shoulder at him, feeling his cock softening within you.

“Oh, for sure, you kinky little minx”, he agrees, kissing your cheek again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things smut #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostface steve harrington #ghostface!steve harrington

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pascallftv · 4 months

Text

eighties baby

summary: your parents throw an 80’s themed party in their mansion. you try your best to contain your infatuation for joel, your dad’s best friend. you and your friend get a little too drunk and joel decides to teach you a lesson.

content: joel miller x reader, no outbreak, little plot, dbf!joel, reader in her twenties

warnings: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. 18+ mdni!, age gap is 20s/50, piv unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, doggystyle, dirty talk, choking

an: i’m baaaaaack ;) this was… wow! pls enjoy

“Your ass looks immaculate.”

You glance over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, locking eyes with your best friend. She’s giving you wild eyes while biting her bottom lip that’s covered in bright red lip stick. Her makeup was done very vibrantly compared to usual; blue eyeshadow with bright pink blush.

“You don’t think it’s too short?” You ask, popping a hip to accentuate your ass further under your very tight and very short mini skirt. Typically, you wouldn’t mind if a little bit of cheek was hanging out the bottom of your skirt, but this was your parents’ party, not your typical college party. Your best friend rolled her eyes and you and laid a smack down on your ass. You yelped in surprise.

“It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be dark.” She begins, then her voice lowers. “Plus, Joel will want to eat you alive when he sees you in it.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight back a grin. She knew you too well. You sighed and placed your hands on your hip, your head turning to the side as your further inspect your outfit in your full length mirror. You decided to go with an 80s glam rock look instead of the typical vibrant colors from the time period. You were wearing a tight black leather skirt and matching top, with knee high platform boots with silver chains on them. You had grungy black eyeshadow matched with a glossy red lip. You felt hot.

“I can’t be too obvious. You cannot let me get too drunk tonight.” You say sternly. You were talking more to yourself than anything. You knew if you drank too much alcohol you would make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel.

Joel was your father’s main man. They’d known each other for decades now. Joel was a stern man; the crinkles by his eyes from his fifty years of wisdom weren’t usually intensified by joy, more by scowls. You’d like to think at one point he was a light hearted man, but you can’t help but wonder what in his years turned him into such a sour puss. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen him genuinely laugh. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but the times he had, it was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“Fine. But this is your chance to act as unhinged as you want because in the morning you can blame the alcohol.” Your best friend winks at you, patting you once more on the bum.

“You’re a terrible influence.” You turn to face her. Your shorter friend stares up at you with a devilish grin and runs her thumb along your bottom lip, cleaning up your red lipstick.

“We should head down there, take a couple shots, scope it out.” She suggests, grabbing your perfume off your vanity and spritzing it on the both of you a few times. You nod in agreement, and check your outfit in the mirror one last time. You take a deep breath and grab your friend’s hand to leave your bedroom. The 80s music was already thumping from your parent’s massive surround sound speakers downstairs. The lights were off, with the sole light source being a couple lamps and some red lights your parents used for their annual Halloween party.

When you made it downstairs, the house was already packed out. The entire neighborhood was in your parents’ house. All of the couples in the neighborhood were in attendance, as well as their children (all in their twenties or older). If you squinted hard enough, it even looked like a college party. The lighting was just enough to see the basic traits of everyone’s faces, most of them being somewhat recognizable to you. You had just graduated from college earlier that month, so you were home temporarily until you found your full-time calling.

Your friend dragged you to the kitchen where all of the alcohol was stashed. On the island, there was a lineup of liquor with the appropriate mixers. She decided to pour you each a hefty shot of tequila, as well as a lime wedge. You absolutely hated any dark liquor, and unfortunately vodka had been tainted for you in your time at college, so tequila was the sole surviving option for you. You didn’t mind the taste of tequila, but the catch was its effect on you. Unlike other forms of liquor, tequila made you incredibly horny. After around 4 tequila shots, you had the tendency to shed off articles of clothing like you were battling a heat wave. This made you nervous considering you knew Joel would be in attendance; however, as your friend said, you can use the liquor as a scapegoat if it got that bad.

As you and your friend shot back your tequila, you began wondering where Joel could be. The party started over thirty minutes ago, and it was uncharacteristic of him to be late, meaning he was in the house somewhere. The thought alone made your skin crawl.

“One more.” Your friend called out over the music, pouring you each another hefty shot. Your eyes got wide. You knew you’d have to take a break from drinking after this shot, otherwise you’d end up butt ass naked in the middle of this party.

Another hefty shot later, and you were already feeling the buzz from the alcohol. Your veins felt tingly and your limbs felt weightless. You each made yourselves your mixed drink of choice, and decided to make your way out to the makeshift dance floor in your parents’ spacious living room. They had a portable disco floor, as well as a disco ball hung from the ceiling. No one took parties more seriously than your parents.

Your friend grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the dance floor, with “Talking in Your Sleep” by the Romantics blasting from the speakers. Your eyes wandered around the room trying to find the brown eyed man you’d be longing to see. Sure enough, you spotted him. He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his legs spread out in front of him. He had a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in his hand, resting on his thigh. You gulped when you noticed he was already looking at you. You quickly looked away and took a sip of the tequila sour you half-assed at the kitchen makeshift bar.

You made eye contact with your friend, and you gave her panic eyes to let her know you found him. She caught on almost instantly, and took that as a queue to scoot out of your line of sight. She leaned closer to you to say something in your ear.

“Go sit next to him.” She suggested loudly into your ear.

You shot her a look of unease. Wouldn’t that be too obvious? You shook your head no rapidly in response. It was too early in the night for you to do something as ballsy as that.

After about half an hour, your friend’s drink was empty and she was dragging you back to the kitchen. Your drink was still three-fourths full. Your stomach was bubbling with anxiety knowing that Joel had a direct view of you in your anything but conservative outfit. Besides, you were scared for your actions if you ingested any more alcohol.

Your friend took two more shots and mixed herself another strong cocktail. You knew she was going to be shitfaced in the matter of minutes. You rub your forehead and sigh. It’s going to be a quick night for her.

Your predictions were correct.

Forty minutes passed and her cocktail was gone, and so was she. She was so plastered that she couldn’t stand up straight, constantly grabbing your arm for support. You looked around the room and immediately made eye contact with Joel. He’s watching the both of you intensely, his head nodding over to the side as he observes your friend stumbling around. You’re fully embarrassed at how gone your friend was already. Your stomach flips when you noticed Joel was lifting himself off his spot in the sofa, making his way towards the both of you. He grabbed onto your arm, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Come on.” He said shortly, moving his arm from yours to hers, helping her stand up somewhat straight. “Let’s take her upstairs.”

You glanced down at your friend and her head was lulling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. There was no salvaging her. You nodded in response to Joel and helped him practically carry your friend upstairs to your bedroom. After her nearly falling every few steps, you finally make it to your bedroom. You noticed Joel’s eyes wandering around the walls of your room as he took in the decor. You had various band posters still hanging in your childhood bedroom, many of them being 60’s rock bands that your dad showed you. You gently lay your friend down onto your bed, and almost immediately she’s snoring.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry about this, Joel.” You mutter, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. You absentmindedly toy with your hands in front of you. Despite the shots you did take, you were still feeling nervous; the liquid courage wasn’t doing its job.

Joel stepped closer to you and shook his head. His brown eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“It was nothing, really.” He assures you, taking a glance back at your friend. He was amused at just how fast your friend fell asleep. He turned back to look at you and felt something flutter deep in his gut.

He had kept his eyes in you all night. He couldn’t believe how grown you were. Sure, he had known you since you were young, but you were a woman now. You had always been pretty, but now, you were stunning. He felt disgusting about it. Of all the women in his life, none of them compared to you, his best friend’s daughter. The entire night he had watched the way your latex skirt was fighting to stay over the plump flesh of your ass. Your top wasn’t much better; it left little to the imagination, your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of it. You were genuinely perfect in his eyes, and it was causing him the most intense moral battle of his life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked quietly. His eyes were wandering over you, but he was saying nothing. It looked as though he was fighting something internally.

“What are you doing here?” He asked blandly, ignoring your question entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You pondered, crossing your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your boobs up further, placing them in perfect display for Joel.

“You could be anywhere, yet here you are drunk at your parents’ party.” He said, glancing down at your chest, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but of course you did. You chuckle in response.

“I just graduated college, Joel. I’m home temporarily until I can find something full time. What’s the matter? Am I inconveniencing you somehow?” You asked with pure sass.

“Well not entirely, no.” Joel says, stepping closer to you. “You’d think you and your friend would have a little self control considering the environment. This isn’t college, sweetheart.”

“I beg your pardon? I’ve barely drank anything. For god sake I helped you carry her.” You get defensive, emphatically gesturing towards your friend that’s passed out in your bed. “And unfortunately she could’ve been way worse than this.”

“You should’ve stopped her before she was fighting to keep herself standing.” Joel scolded you, his brows furrowing further.

“Aww what’s wrong, Joel? You have no children of your own so you have to parent me?” You snarled, stepping another inch closer to him. Joel frowns, his fist clenching at his hip.

“You’re a little fucking brat, ain’t ya?” Joel growls, getting centimeters away from your face. He was so close that you could feel his hot breath on the skin of your face.

“And you’re just a dickhead, huh?” You fire back.

Joel grabbed you by the forearm and tugged you towards your bedroom door. Before you could protest, Joel was dragging you down the hall to a spare bedroom. He swiftly pulled you inside and locked the door behind you. He grabbed you firmly by the throat, squeezing just the sides as to not restrict your airflow.

“Bit of an attitude problem, eh?” Joel spoke sternly. You gulped, gawking up into his crinkled eyes. “Might just have to sort you out.”

“What are you doing, Joel?” You squeaked out, your hand reaching up to grab ahold of his forearm. His face moved closer to yours, his eyes moving down to your crimson lips.

“I can only imagine you put on this poor excuse of a skirt to try and get someone to pay attention to you in the way you’re craving. You’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” Joel growls, his free hand moving down to your skirt, pulling it away from your body so it smacked back against your plump thighs. You gasped. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Was this actually happening?

After years of secretly fantasizing about a moment like this, it was finally happening, and you were flabbergasted.

“Answer me. Tell me what you are.” His grip around your throat slowly moved up to your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your lips purse.

You groaned in response, a hand trailing up Joel’s torso to his chest, laying a flat hand against him. His heart was beating rapidly. You glanced down and noticed the bulge straining against his vintage Levi jeans. He was enjoying this a little too much. You forced your face away from his grip, grabbing his wrist as hard as you could.

“I’m not a whore.” Your words were laced with venom. You were frustrated. Not because of the substance of Joel’s words, but because you were so fucking aroused. If it were anyone else, you probably would’ve planted a firm kick in their groin or sucker punched them in the lip. His words were disgusting, but you were eating it up.

“No?” Joel cocked his head at you. His free hand snakes up under your skirt, his fingertips pressing against your folds. His fingers were met with moisture. Your panties were soaked through. His gaze fell to his hand, then back up to your doe eyes. He smirked devilishly at you, his hand moving to your face. With his thumb, he pawed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your teeth.

“Your cunt says otherwise, darling.” He muttered, his breath fanning across your face once more. You swallowed hard. You averted your eyes from him, his gaze making you feel entirely too hot.

“My parents.” You blurted out, your gaze returning to his momentarily. He swallows, his thumb still sitting by your mouth.

“They won’t know.” He said. You retracted your grip from his forearm, and he took that as an opportunity to run his finger up the outside of your arm painfully slow. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Scared of your daddy finding out?”

Your lips parted, a harsh exhale escaping your throat. Your body was on fire, your skin littered with goosebumps from Joel’s touch. To any normal person, this situation would be incredibly alarming. Yes, your moral compass was clawing at the back of your mind, but you craved interaction. Your morals were out the window, your desires taking superiority.

“Yes.” You whispered, your gaze falling to Joel’s lips. They were tempting you.

“If you don’t want this, stop me.”

Joel’s hand moved from your arm back towards the bottom of your skirt, pushing it up over your thighs, your red panties on full display.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, his fingertips grazing your mound through the lacy fabric. He pushed your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds, collecting your arousal. “Stop me, angel.” He teased.

His fingertip ghosted over your sensitive clit, your legs jolting in response, a whimper leaving your mouth. His mouth hovered over the soft skin of your neck, his breath stirring up goosebumps.

“S’matter sweetheart?” Joel muttered, planting a soft kiss to your throat. “Tell me what you need.”

“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.

“You sound so pathetic.” Joel spat, working his fingers faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Joel’s bicep for stability.

You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Joel knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Joel halted his actions, his hand leaving your folds. You could’ve cried in that moment. Joel grabbed your forearm and tugged you towards the bed, pushing you down onto the duvet.

“Joel, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft mattress. Joel purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.

“Jesus, sweetheart. At least you know what you want.” Joel said, squeezing the flesh of your thigh with the rough skin of his palm. “Here’s how this is gonna go. First I’m going to taste you. Then, I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to think. Got it?”

You nodded pathetically, grinding your hips down onto the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. Joel ghosted his hands over your thighs to the seam of your latex skirt, gripping it between his fingers. In a swift motion, Joel tugged the skirt down your legs and off your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He left your boots on, not quite wanting to get rid of them yet. Your pussy looks so pretty underneath the transparent lace fabric of your thong. It left little to nothing to Joel’s imagination. Your breasts were spilling out of your black top, your areolas peaking out. You looked breathtaking.

“Fuck, angel. I wish you could see yourself. So pretty for me.” Joel muttered, lowering his face to your groin, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He ran his large hand up the back of your thigh, squeezing every few inches. You bite your lip and you stared down at his face as he littered kissed across your thighs. His salt and pepper beard added even more texture to the sensations you were feeling. He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your tights and over your boots, leaving your heat bare. Joel lowered his face down to your core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He pressed a kiss to your pelvic bone, then ghosted his lips in a line down to your sensitive bud. He planted another kiss over your clit, taking his sweet time teasing you. Your pussy was throbbing at this point, desperate for any sort of touch.

“Joel please.” You pleaded, grinding your hips up towards his mouth. “I need your tongue.”

“Good girl.” He said, lowering his tongue to your folds, licking a wet stripe up your vulva, tracing a circle around your clit, sucking down on it gently. He moaned into your flesh, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. His tongue began to work faster, flicking up and down and side to side over your clit. He brought his middle finger to your opening, ghosting circular motions over it, before slowly pushing it inside of you. You exhaled deeply at the sensation. He began pumping his finger rhythmically in and out of you, paying special attention to curl his fingertip upwards to brush against your g spot. As he felt your walls growing accustom to the girth of his singular digit, he added a second finger, pumping faster. Just from his fingers and tongue, you already felt fucked out of your mind. The pleasure sent shocks down your legs and up your spine, your head rolling back into the mattress in euphoria. A quiet moan slipped through your cherry lips, your fists grabbing the bedding for leverage to cope with the immense pleasure coursing through you.

“Joel.” You whimpered, one of your hands jetting down to grab at his hair as he lapped at your wet heat. His soft brown eyes flicked up to meet yours at the sound of your voice. Your moan went straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Christ, baby.” He groaned, lifting away from your core to unbutton his Levi’s. His hand fumbled with the zipper to get them off as fast as he could. The anticipation was killing him; he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He needed inside you immediately.

Finally managing to slide his jeans down his legs, his cock was straining against his boxers. The tent was revealing in itself; you already knew he was packing a punch. It felt painfully slow, but finally Joel slipped off his boxers, revealing his erection. Leaking at the tip, he brushed his thumb over, cleaning up the precum that had accumulated from tasting you.

You sat up from the mattress and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved against his in a passionate rush. You could taste yourself on his lips. Another whimper rose from your throat, the moan vibrating off his lips. The sound of your wet kiss filled the room as he lowered his body over yours to lay you back down against the bed. His hand moved from his cock to your breast, pulling it out of your top and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck.” He muttered against your lips as you rocked your hips into his. You needed his touch desperately.

“Fuck me.” You breathed out, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Please.”

That was all Joel needed to hear. He reached down to take his cock in his hand again, guiding his top to press into your folds. He ran back and forth against your slick, his precum mixing with your arousal. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he felt your wetness already beginning to coat him. His eyes lifted back to meet yours as he began to slowly press his tip into your entrance, the stretch already making you feel crazed. Your lips parted, an exhale escaping your lips as he pressed himself into your further. Your hands darted up to grab onto his biceps as leverage. He lowered down to your lips, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to them as he pushed his length inside of you to the hilt. Another moan escaped your lips.

“Y’okay?” Joel breathed out, slowly pumping in and out of you, allowing you time to adjust. You nodded your head, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“More.” You begged. “I need more.”

Joel ran his hand from your thigh up your belly, dragging his finger tip slowly to take in every inch of your skin. He reached your neck, wrapping his calloused fingertips around your throat, carefully squeezing on the sides. He leaned down to meet your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth momentarily.

“So fucking needy.” He grumbled against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed.

Suddenly, Joel began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Joel’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.

“F-fuck.” You stuttered as Joel thrusted into you. “I’m close.”

Joel took this as an opportunity to slide out of you, wasting no time in flipping you onto your belly, laying a hard slap against your bare ass cheek. He groaned as your ass jiggled from the slap, his hand coming back down to grab a handful of your flesh. You pressed your face down into the duvet, letting out a moan. Your pussy was throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. You wiggled your hips, nonverbally begging for Joel’s cock. He chucked, slapping your ass once more before pressing himself back at your entrance, ramming into you fully, his hips meeting your ass in a rush. He grabbed a cheek with his rough fingertips, pulling your ass apart to get a full view of himself slamming into you. Your tightest hole was on perfect display for him.

“One day I’m going to claim you here too.” Joel growled, his fingertip grazing the ring of your asshole. You gasped, your forehead coming down onto the bedding, pressing your face down into the duvet to cover your moan. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me claiming your tight little ass as mine?”

You nodded rapidly, a straggled breath leaving your mouth. It was so goddamn hard for your mind to focus on anything except the feeling of his tip grazing the opening of your cervix with every thrust. Once again, Joel reached his hand down to toy at your clit, bringing you closer to your climax. The white heat hit you again as your legs began to shake under you. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and his pace wasn’t easing up.

His hips met yours hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls of the spare bedroom. If it weren’t for the music thumping downstairs, your sinful act would’ve already been heard throughout the entire house. Joel leaned down, kissing you against your spine, his hand kneading your ass.

“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Joel grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.

You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.

“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Joel growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Joel’s cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.

“Fuck.” Joel whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.

His thrusts slowed as his seed filled you up, his hands grabbing your hips for stability as he came the hardest he’d ever came in his life. He moaned as he slowly slipped his spent cock out of you, some of his release dripping out of your used up hole. The sight was intoxicating.

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out again, taking in the ruined state of your folds. He ran his fingers down your slick, mixing his cum with yours. You flinched at the sensitivity of your pussy, whining as he brushed over your clit.

You were spent. Your face was still pressed against the mattress, your ass still perched in the air. Joel’s cum was slowly leaking out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were too fucked out of your mind to notice that Joel had left the bed to retrieve a wet rag from the attached bathroom. You winced as he gently cleaned up the juices spilling from you.

“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.

You rolled over onto your back, your tender breasts jiggling from the movement. Joel leaned down and took a breast into his mouth, gently sucking on your hardened nipple.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before your daddy starts to wonder where we went.” Joel said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

A pit grew deep in your gut at the thought of Joel leaving you, but you knew the nature of this interaction and it would be silly of you to expect any different. You gazed up at him and frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel shook his head and straightened up, moving his attention to dress himself. He began buttoning his flannel that he’d taken off during your interaction at some point that you hadn’t noticed. You watched in silence as he pulled his boxers and Levi’s back up over his legs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joel said after he was fully dressed. You were still laying on the bed completely nude attempting to recover from the mindblowing sex you’d just endured. Joel walked towards the door, turning briefly to look at your one last time.

“You might want to get dressed, sweetheart. Hate to have your daddy walk in to see my cum spilling out of you.” He winked, then disappeared out of the door, leaving you alone fucked out of your mind.

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