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#i don't know why this is immediately what popped into my head
Random X-Men Headcanons!
Me and my friend have compiled a lot of headcanons for the X-Men (mainly formulated from jokes) so I wanted to put some here! A few of these are headcanons, most are jokes lol
Kurt listens to really peppy music when he's upset, the main one being the Beach Boys. Just imagine him, poor little German boy, singing Surfin' USA tiredly, trying to turn his mood around.
Erik listens to girly pop music, mainly Katy Perry and Ke$ha. Why? Because it's funny. Let him be girly pop.
Scott tells a lot of jokes but he's deadpan so people can never really tell. Like sometimes he'll just say some insane shit, plain faced, and see how the others react.
Dancing headcanons! Remy is a very good dancer, being particularly prolific in swing dancing. Logan somewhat refuses to dance, but he can line dance. Morph doesn't know how to dance, but they act like they can, dancing like a drunk white girl. Scott and Jean like to dance in private, but Scott gets nervous to dance in front of others. Ororo can bust that shit down.
Scott tries not to laugh when he, or someone else, is doing a bit. Like he tries not to break as he jokes along, to the point where he has to stop talking to not smile, biting inside of his mouth.
Furthermore! He also has a loud laugh, and people get a little caught off guard when they hear it. Me and my friend have described his laugh as a goose honk sound.
Kurt gaslights for fun, and he can get everybody pretty good, except Scott and Jean. You may think "oh because Jean's a telepath, right?" No, because--
Scott and Jean gaslight each other for fun, and they formulate these fake, big arguments, just as a bit. So, they're very familiar with gaslighting tactics, being they lie to each other as a joke, so when Kurt tries to, they immediately meet him-- A little too well, because Kurt is used to just messing with people.
Scott will occasionally freak people out by lowering his glasses (keeping his eyes closed of course). Like someone says "Hey, take a look at that." and he'll lower his glasses and go "Where?!" as a joke.
Everyone loves Kurt. Like, everyone. If Kurt doesn't like someone, everyone has a distaste for them as well.
Jean refers to her own psychic abilities as her "Jedi Mind Tricks"
This one isn't really a headcanon, just a running gag me and my friend do, but something bad will happen, or something inconvenient, and Remy will go "Don't worry.", insistently. Like a loud explosion can go off, and Remy will just say "Don't Worry." Occasionally this will be lengthened to "Don't what? Worry!"
We don't call Leech by his name. We call him Gneep Gnorp. That's it.
Kurt and Remy are super close (as pseudo brother in laws) and they hang out a lot, also doing that guy thing where they flirt with each other as a joke.
No one likes Emma. That's it.
Scott is autistic.
Warren is well manicured. He always has his hair just as he likes it, his wings always preened, his clothes always ironed. He'll a snazzy lookin' fella.
Rogue is a great singer. This barely a headcanon, her voice actress literally put out a song "Mojo Man (Ode to Remy LeBeau)", go listen to it.
Kurt's very coy and playful. Like, "Staaahhppp, hehe!" He also laughs at his own jokes all the time, like he cracks himself up.
Music headcanons! Here's just a few of the ones we made-- Scott likes dad rock obviously, mainly soft rock and folk rock (The Beatles, Hall & Oates, The Beach Boys, CSNY), Logan likes harder rock (Metallica, Alice Cooper, Motley Crue, Iron Maiden), Morph likes new wave and glam rock (Oingo Boingo, David Bowie, Talking Heads, Tears For Fears), Remy likes a fun mix of jazz, country, and soul, with a little rock sprinkled in (Johnny Cash, Ray Charles, Billie Holiday, Queen), Jubilee likes a lot of pop, pop-rock, that sorta thing (Cyndi Lauper, Madonna, ABBA, Wham!)
Kurt has a lil hyperfixation on pirates and ships-- this is kinda canon in the comics. But he loves talking about pirate history and ships and misconceptions.
I'm sure there's a bunch of ones I can't remember but there ya go lol
thanks to @the-death-defying-night-crawler for being funny and making these with me lol
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atlasmoonglade · 1 day
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Joost Klein x OC!single mom
Chapter 1
Warnings: divorce mentioned, smut in later chapters.
This is just for fun, don't take too seriously.
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Chapter 2
I scroll through Joost's Instagram realising I don't actually know anything about him.
A DM from the man I am currently stalking pops up at the top of my screen.
Hi
So, a singer, huh?
Surprised?
Honestly yes. Thought you would be a builder with such a strong back.
Still can't believe I almost knocked someone out just by standing.
Well, I did most of the work.
Joost Klein sent a post by ria3.jpg
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ria3.jpg endless walks
Where was this taken? he asks.
I was visiting a friend and we would go on these long walks to catch up on everything.
He types, but then stops. Types and stops again.
Come for a run with me tomorrow morning?
Oh.
Define morning..
Like 8am? It will be more of a light jog, just something to start a day with a clear head.
I have to be back by noon.
Deal. Meet me next to the same coffee shop tomorrow 8am.
I put on my comfortable sneakers preparing for "a run" and head out. I am excited to see Joost again. Yesterday we spent a few hours sending each other's posts asking questions, sharing stories. I was complimenting his every outfit. It's been a while since I met a new friend, I don't usually have a lot of free time to maintain a new relationship.
Elliot is coming back today from staying at Nicholas' place. I thought I would have a relaxing time, which turned out to be a complete opposite. I miss Elliot too much and can't think of what to do with myself without him. Can't wait to hear about all the fun things he was up to, for his young age he is an incredible storyteller.
"There you are." a voice which already became familiar calls out. Joost is wearing a hat, black red hot chili peppers t-shirt and a pair of shorts. I can't fail to notice how much I like the shirt clinging to his body.
"Nice to see you early bird. So, where are we heading?" I block the sun shining in my eyes with my hand.
"I've been running every day since I arrived here, I already know a few good routes. Let's go." He waves a hand motioning for me to follow.
He leads, I follow.
"What thoughts are we running from?" I ask keeping up with him.
The corners of his mouth turn up into a slight smile. "It changes from day to day, just general anxiety I guess." He turns to look at me. "Do you not feel that way?"
"I do." I confess. "My way of coping is less active though - I journal." It is so easy to share things with him. It feels like he truly cares.
We continue running talking about what we did last week, he shares that he is here to write a song. We talk about music and his career, while pointing out various beautiful views. He stops a few times to snap photos.
"Stay like this. Looks really good." he points his phone at me. "You can capture this one endless runs." I laugh and he takes a photo. He puts his phone back in the pocket.
"Did it turn out good?" I ask.
"There is no way it didn't." He looks at me squinting from the bright sun.
"Because you are such a talented photographer?"
"Sure. Because of that." he smirks and continues walking.
"What are your plans for today? You said you have to be back by noon." he asks as I catch up to walk by his side, our arms slightly touching. I pull back.
"I have to get back home, my son is coming back from staying with his dad for the weekend." I say.
"How old is he? Your son."
"Recently turned 6."
He turns to look at me and smiles, continues walking forward.
"What?" I ask.
"Still can't believe you are someone's mom."
"Why? How do you imagine a mom?"
"I don't know." he looks forward. Silent for a moment. "Are you one of those milfs everyone keeps talking about?"
I push at his arm immediately getting an ick at what he said. "What the fuck dude" He bursts out laughing. I laugh too.
"Can't believe you just said that. What is wrong with you." I push him again, his arm feels tense under my touch.
He fixes his hat, turning to look straight ahead. "Sorry, it just slipped out." He smirks. I shake my head and laugh.
We continue our run.
"Thank you for agreeing to join me." Joost says as we come back to where we started.
"You are welcome. I had more fun than I expected." I say taking out a bottle of water.
"It was actually the first time I invited someone. I usually prefer to spend the morning alone." he says smoothing out the hem of his t-shirt.
"Oh." I look up at him. "An honor to be your first companion." I smile at him.
"Yeah so, head is cleared. I need to take a shower and head back to the studio." He takes off his hat to run a hand through his hair. It looks incredibly soft. I catch myself imagining how it would feel to touch.
I shake my head. The run did the opposite of clearing my head.
"When can I see you next?" he asks.
"I am not sure yet. I'm gonna be spending some time with Elliot."
"Sure." he smiles and pauses. "I have a concert coming up later this week. I can get you tickets, if you will find time for it."
"I will let you know." I return his smile.
"Hope you do." he stretches out his hand for me to shake like last time. I take it. His hand is firm to the touch and so pleasingly warm. After a moment we pull apart and go our separate ways.
I spent the last couple of days with Elliot. We played video games, went to the park for a picnic eating ice cream and laughing at each other's remarks about the movie we watched earlier. He truly is my best friend. I am so happy he turned out the way he did. I was worried me and Nicholas separating would affect him negatively, which I do notice some signs of, but me and Nicholas keep it friendly and keep him out of our differences.
As I get into my bed, I realise it has been radio silent between me and Joost after our run. To be honest he has been the first one to start the conversation the last time, I need to put in the effort too.
How have you been? I type.
No...too formal. I delete it.
Hi.
No, that's boring.
Any progress in the studio?
I hit send. No need to overthink it.
As I wait for the reply, I decide to check out his music. I put on my earphones and turn on the first song on Spotify.
My phone chimes as I listen to the songs and read the lyrics.
Joost Klein
Actually yes. We finally recorded the chorus.
Joost Klein
What is new with you?
I open the DMs.
Glad to hear that!! ❤️
Just living my milf life, you know how it is.
LMAO
I'm actually pleasantly surprised to hear from you. Started to think I scared you away last time.
You would have to do a lot more to scare me.
Oh yeah?
I was just listening to your songs. I have to say I really like them. I was bopping my head along.
Some really serious topics hidden behind fun melodies. Feels strange to say I am getting to know you through your songs.
You could hear them live, you know? My offer still stands. It's on Friday.
I pause to think about it. Elliot will be with his dad again, I could go technically. Do I go alone?
Ok. One ticket please. How much do I owe you?
He read the message, but is taking his time to reply. I look at the typing bubbles appear and disappear.
Don't be silly, I already said I will get it for you. Tickets are now secured.
Good Night, Ria. Talk to you tomorrow.
Good night, Joost.
Chapter 3
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skullvgirl · 2 days
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buffed up like a jock geeked up like a nerd | barou
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warnings. fem reader, school!au, ooc, very stereotypical high school tropes, angst no comfort
an's. felt like writing for him, hes so unproblematic and deserves a fic dedicated to him so here it is sillies.
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"you know there's a party at reo's house tonight" nagi remarked casually, more focused on his nintendo game rather than what was happening at the lunch table.
"of course there is, theres always a party" isagi rolled his eyes, poking a fork at his food.
"yeah. he told me too tell you guys anyways" nagi didn't look up from his game too see bachira wrap his arm around isagi trying to convince him to let him go.
sometimes I can't believe this is the smart kids table...
you popped a fry in your mouth as other people discussed the details of the event ( although it was kind hard getting any details out of nagi when he was glued too his game )
"yn are you going?"
you thought about it for a moment. It was almost the end of your year and you had only been too one this year, you went with isagi and bachira but lost them during the night eventually left out of boredom.
"nah...probably not. reo can live without me "
"oh come on yn, you never go! like ever, it's almost the end of the year, learn to live a little" bachira had now slung an arm around the both of you, making an exaggerated pouty face.
you shook your head, you werent convinced. "i'll make isagi come—and I'll sneak you his notes! please?"
you looked at isagi and he shook his head. "no, really meguru I'm okay"
nagi's attention was suddenly diverted by you repeated rejection. "oh an I almost forgot, reo said yn HAS too come or else he'll convince coach to make all of varsity team is run relays."
the table was suddenly sent into an uproar at thr statement and now suddenly everyone was trying to convince you too go too the party.
although there persuasion skills were lacking.
"I'll do your chores for a week!"
"you don't live with me bachira..."
"i'll pay you!"
"I don't want your money isagi..."
"i'll write your AP English essay."
"what?" now that had gotten your attention. the words came from barou shouei. the #1 acedemic student at BLLK HIGH. and well...you weren't one too cheat but...it was barou shouei we were talking about. how could you pass something like that up?
"deal"
soon ehough party day was here and you found yourself outside of reo's house doors isagi and bachira at you sides.
"well?" bachira said excitedly "what are we waiting for?" the chaos took over quickly, bachira had somehow been roped into getting body shots from the cheerleader girls and isagi was lying blackout drunk across the kissing couch—which did I mention reo and nagi were kissing on.
"and this is why I say no too the parties..."
seeking a moment of peace you went back to your original spot. the front porch steps. you looked around the space for a moment before pulling out the cart you kept handy.
"didn't take the straight-lace, straight A student for a mmoker" And of course that's when Barou approached, a rare smirk playing on his lips.
you sputtered and coughed on the air, immediately fanning away the smoke although it was evident you had been smoking. "I don't"
You stood up abruptly but wobbled from the speed. Barou was there too catch you. "Woah careful there...don't want our pot addict getting injured now do we..." he gleaned.
was he...? "Dont tease, I've already had a long enough of a night..." You sat back down and leaned against the railing.
"My bad, my bad....do you mind?" Barou motioned with his hands and you nodded for him to sit down, his hands dug in his pockets too reach for something you didn't expect.
"Wow didn't expect the D1 soccer player too be a nicotine smoker...."
Barou didn't answer, a sound you were familiar with. "Guess were both addicts then."
"Guess so..." your eyes felt hazy as Barou puffed on his cigarette, his hair was down today and it was long and beautiful as ever.
"Thanks for doing my eassy by the way...it's a huge chunk taken off my plate" Barou didn't answer, only glancing over at your figure tentatively nodding his head. The two of you sat quietly on the porch for a few moments longer—and your not sure how long it had been but eventually you realized you were staring at barou way longer than nessecary.
maybe it was the weed that made you so confident too ask but suddenly something dawned on you.
"barou not too sound like a stalker or anything but why did you offer in the first place...i mean we all know you don't really mind running relays like everyone else."
Barou was quiet for a moment, then squished the light out his cigarette before answering. "Why?" you nodded your head. "So i could do this"
Barou's touch was warm, his presence comforting as he kissed you, it was sweet and smoky and nothing like you'd ever felt before. You wanted more.
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Fuck.
What did you do? It was the day after the party and your could have sworn there was a lingering high that made you so confrontational.
"About last night..." you started, but Barou interrupted.
"It was a mistake," he said, his tone cold. "We were caught up in the moment. It won’t happen again."
Oh!
Oh.
"Right, it's better this way."
You struggled holding back tears.
Fuck.
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an's. last post with this theme btw, I couldn't resist, m sorry. also this was sooo rushed, also very sorry.
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the-alexel-lucas · 7 months
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So I'm picturing the foundation to look like the cornerstone from Kingdom Hearts 2 with the seven floating feystones around it.
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sometimes really really stupid things make me cry
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middle-name-queer · 2 years
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What people don't seem to understand is that making a phone call can be hard so then when it doesn't yield anything, not only did it take energy to make the call in the first place, now one might feel stupid for the call being so unsuccessful. So one cannot simply "call back and-" you fail to realize, I don't want to.
#i failed at calling my doctor#i'm just easily confused by unfamiliar situations#i feel stupid :(#i guess what i wanted was to leave a message but i didn't immediately understand what kind of message to leave because i didn't understand#that i can just ask 'for her to call me back' i don't know why that's odd to me. my brain just. doesn't get that.#i don't know i may be stupid.#i have to call back and i feel sad and embarrassed#like 'hey actually i do want to leave a message i just didn't know that earlier'#i even said over the phone 'uh idk what kind of message i would leave...' and was met with awkward silence i must sound like such an idiot#i'm being a baby about this but i really think i might cry and take a short nap and then try again#i just wish i understood things more intuitively i wish it wasn't all so confusing and above my head#i wish other people could sympathize more with that like do i seem like i just popped into existence and crawled out from under a rock?#because yes. i did. and i am so stupid and the lights are so bright and my skin is so easily burned and bruised please be patient#and idk its dumb because i'm the only one who gets hung up on it anyway like even the more awkward situations i've been in i know logically#i'm the only one still carrying it like most everyone else is just gonna walk away like 'uh. bit odd.' but they move on and i just agonize#like who is that for what good does that do its fine its whatever so what i call twice cause i couldn't get it right the first time#ugh
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hotyanderedaddies · 6 months
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:
Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His
[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]
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[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆
Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.
The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.
You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.
However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.
Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.
"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"
Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.
"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.
Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.
Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.
You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.
You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.
"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.
"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."
"B-but..."
Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.
You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.
Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.
Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.
"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."
A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.
"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"
Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.
To be continued...
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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An idea popped into my head that I feel you would write very well!
Rafe x virgin!reader. They are having a pretty heavy make out sesh, he slips his hand into her pants and then she just blurts it out? Like, "I'm a virgin," and she's like terrified. But rafe doesn't mind at all.
(also, is the 🪩 taken.)
oh my goodness!! I’m obsessed with this. no it is not taken omg welcome to the club!!!!!!!!!! ty so much for requesting 😚😚😚😚
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your night with rafe had gone as perfect as any night could have, dinner by the beach, watching the sun go down while you ate dessert, and then heading back to tannyhill with him for the night, like you always did.
your nights with rafe always ended the same day, crawling into bed wearing one of his big shirts and then making out until you were soaking through your panties and rafe was hard beneath you. you're sure that rafe might have guessed you're a virgin by now, from the way everything he does is so new to your body, reacting primally to every touch. the two of you fall asleep like that, and you feel tingly from your head to your toes, waiting for rafe to say something about going further.
you're sure he would. there's no doubt in your mind that he's ready to, and he's probably done this with a million girls before you-a thought that makes you want to cry, but you put that aside. you're rafe's now, and you know that giving him your virginity is part of the deal. you're not sure just when that'll be, since he has you in your panties nearly every night.
maybe it'd be tonight. when the two of you get back to his room, you head for his dresser immediately to pull out a shirt, but rafe pushes you against the door. he leans down into a deep kiss, and you let it progress, hands snaking into his hair while he holds your waist tightly, his own hands running up and down the soft material of your sundress.
it's a little uncomfortable against the door like this, but rafe eases you up immediately, your legs wrapping around him while he pins you in place. you don't mean to start moving your hips, grinding down against him, it's just instinct, chasing that toe-curling feeling that you haven't been able to feel with rafe yet. his hands snake further down to the hem of your dress, and then slide underneath the material to the smooth skin of your legs.
rafe's hands keep traveling, gripping your thighs while he keeps you locked in a kiss that has you feeling dizzy, would have your knees weak if he wasn't holding you up. his tongue pokes into your mouth, and you moan around it, not even wanting to pull away to breathe.
you have to, though. rafe's hands are at the waistband of your panties, and just as he starts to grope, finding where he can yank them down so he can finally do what he wants to you, you pull away, hands resting flat on his chest.
he likes you like this--hair disheveled, lips red and swollen, the strap of your dress hanging off your shoulder. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and then your collar, then up your neck.
"rafe," you whine, but it's easy to let him keep going. "we should stop-"
his eyes dart up to meet yours, pulling his face away from your neck.
"why would i do that, hm?" he kisses you again, but you turn your head away. "finally got you where i want you."
"i-well, i'm a virgin, rafe." it falls out of your mouth, even though you've spent countless hours thinking about the best way to tell him. you've thought everything through, how to say it, how to reply based on his response, how to deal with the embarrassment you're sure to feel.
"yeah?" he questions, pulling away to look at you in the eyes. still pushed against the wall, you can feel his hard dick pressed against you. the two of you don't move an inch, besides for the nodding of your head to answer his question.
"so, no one else has ever touched you where m'touching you?"
you shake your head.
"and no one's ever seen you like this?"
you shake again, feeling your eyes get watery.
"i'm sorry-"
"why're you saying sorry? told you to stop doin' that."
"because... because it's embarrassing."
"says who? hm?"
"says everyone. right?"
"no, kid. not me. you want me to stop?" your body melts into his grip. you shake your head again. "good girl. c'mon, get on the bed. not taking your virginity against this door."
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luveline · 9 months
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could you please write something where maybe bombshell!reader hears one of the team members teasing about how she’s torturing spencer and she kinda backs off with the flirting and maybe it’s his turn to hold her hand and call her cute names because even though he always says he doesn’t mind, maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to tell her
tysm for requesting, 1k
Spencer's hair is brown silk in the sun. You bite your tongue to hold in a compliment rearing to come out, saccharine and completely true. Looking sweet, Spence. 
You love to compliment him and especially while Hotch is out of earshot. He and Derek play pairs against two agents from a different unit, their tennis racquets a shiny FBI navy. You start to speak and bite it back —a memory flashes, a shouting stop sign. 
You'd been teasing Spencer as he left the room, something about his indecisive hair. He's cut it shorter but left his curls without product, and you love it. 
Poor guy, Emily'd murmured, lips set against the rim of her coffee cup. 
What's the matter with him? you asked, perplexed. 
Nothing, just that he spins into a total meltdown every time you guys are within ten feet of each other. He must be exhausted.
She was joking and you know that, but something deep down worries she's right. It's not fair for you to keep winding him up… Especially when Spencer might be going along with you because he isn't sure how to say no. 
What if you're forcing yourself on him? 
You're sitting together on a small blanket in the grass with Anderson and a few of the other less competitive BAU agents. You bring your bottled iced tea to your forehead to cool down, condensation wetting your hot skin. The top of your head feels as though it has the full concentration of the sun beating against it. 
Spencer looks up at your movement. He's been reading a book for pleasure, or so he says, so he isn't going a mile a minute but he's still way faster than the average Joe. "Do you want to go find some shade?" he asks. 
"You look comfortable," you say, putting your iced tea aside.
Which is to say, I don't want you to come with me, it would disrupt you. Spencer nods and turns to the brown leather of his familiar satchel, popping the buckle open to dig around inside. 
"Do you think this would be okay?" he asks, bringing out his baseball cap. 
The fabric is starchy and the brim stiff as you accept it and wedge it over your head. You don't immediately cool, but your heart spins strange loops. "Thank you," you say. Thank you, handsome, gorgeous, baby, all beg to be said. 
Spencer stays looking at you for longer than normal. 
"Do I have something on my face?" you ask, swatting self consciously at your cheeks. 
"Nothing. You look really pretty," he says. 
"Thank you." Another loop. You point at his book, fingertip hitting a creamy page with a small thud. "Is this any good?" 
"I think you'd really like it, it feels like that last book I borrowed from you, and you loved that. They're very similar. I can lend it to you when I'm done." 
"Don't rush it for my sake."
Spencer gives you a private smile. "I won't. Just because you could watch a movie at two times speed doesn't mean you should." 
Your returning smile isn't half as nice. No shared lightness, no bright eyes. You're feeling awkward and unhappy —you really like Spencer. Like, you think you could be happy together for a long long time sort of like. He's charming and sweet and no one is ever as kind to him as he deserves, which is why you're trying to be kind now by putting distance between you.
You'll be brash forever. You can't change that, and Spencer doesn't need the stress of dealing with you, not on top of everything else. 
His smile fades as yours does. Quiet, without fuss, he scoots back on the picnic blanket, putting you knee to knee. The subtle muscle of his arm presses to yours and his hand wraps gently around your wrist as he dips his head down, his cheek touching briefly to your shoulder. 
"I know it's nice, but if the heat is getting to you we should go inside," he says, his fingers sliding across your palm to slot between your own. He squeezes your hand. "Heat stroke isn't obvious at first. Do you feel woozy?"
You stare at your twined fingers. He surprises you again, being this soft with you, and being uncharacteristically forward. Or maybe not uncharacteristic at all; Spencer won't let something like timidity stop him from comforting someone that needs it. 
"Spence," you murmur, closing your eyes, face angled down. 
"What?" 
"I'm sorry if I… If I've been messing you around. But I don't think this is a good idea." 
"What's not a good idea?" 
You can't make yourself say it. Instead, you rub the back of his hand, more for your own comfort than his, your tongue like a useless lump in your mouth. 
"You're sorry? Are you sure you're okay?" Spencer asks, no heed to the people sitting with you as he lets go of your hand to put his arm behind your shoulder like a shield. 
"I don't want to torture you," you say. 
Your friends love that word. You torture Spencer with your flirting and your easy affection. 
Spencer makes a face, eyes squinting and nose wrinkled. "They're just kidding when they say that. Emily, Morgan, they like making fun of me, it's like, sibling bonding or something. They don't say it because there's actually something to feel sorry about." He lowers his voice, bashful but sincere at once, "If you're torturing me, I guess I'm a masochist." 
You laugh without thinking, a breathless, girlish sound you'd regret if you had the wherewithal. "You're a masochist?" you ask. 
He takes the brim of your borrowed hat and pushes it up to unobstruct the view of your eyes. 
"If that's what it takes," he says. A hint of wryness creeps into his otherwise smooth tone. 
Despite his brave talk and his steady eye contact, his face has started to blush. A rosy hue kisses the tops of his cheeks and his nose, a dusting of pink splodges stark against his paleness. The curve of his lips seems extra tantalising now. He's very, very pretty. 
And he doesn't mind stepping in to take the reins when you're unsure of things. 
"We really should sit in the shade for a bit," he says. "Let's get drinks from the gazebo. Yeah?" 
You're halfway through a nod when he kisses your cheek too quickly for you to respond. You follow him to the gazebo without any more reluctance, weaselling your hand back into his, and attempt to pull another kiss from him.
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norrisleclercf1 · 3 months
Note
i heard someone was in need of poly requests and i was summoned. anyway, this idea has been stuck in my head for days so i'll gift it to u😘
basically its pre-established polyship with lestappen and each of u are CONVINCED that the other two are dating (angst and pining ensues) sisksnsiekmwhswej but do with this what u will
oki bye bye love u nat🫶🫶
A/N: I don't normally write misunderstood trope, but honestly I'm loving this but I'm going to take a little spin on Max and Reader dating and flirt and tease Charles all the time, couple times you teased, and the one time he took you up on your offer
"You have a very small waist," Max comments one day, Charles jumping out of his skin, Max's voice brushing his ear, which has Charles stumbling forward and blushing. "I'm sorry what?" Max smirks, leaning over the railing as you giggle from your seat.
"You're waist, it's so small and perfect, really tiny when my hands are on it." Max lips turn upwards and Charles forgets how to breath as he'd get strike down with lighting with the image that just popped into his head. "Oh, I um....oh," Is all Charles can say in return which has you giggling. He can't help but let his eyes trail down noticing the small red between your legs and his eyes immediately snap back up to yours.
"I have to go!" He blurts and rushes off leaving you and Max, as you two watch him like he was prey.
---------------
"Charles?" Your voice floats to him with so much ease he hates that you could whisper in a club and still know where you are. "Yes, chaton?" He quickly turns to you, forgetting his drink at the bar as you two stood in some fancy party. "Max left, I was wondering, would you be okay with driving me home?" You ask, fingers trailing up his arm which has him shivering.
"Why did Max leave?" He blurts, mind rushing so fast as he tries not to go weak in the knees from your perfume. "I don't know," You shrug your shoulders and lean into Charles, your breasts being pushed against him, he has to look away quickly to stop himself from getting hard. "Look, can you give me a ride home or not? Because he has to fly out soon, and I can't get out of this dress myself." Charles groans in the back of his throat and bites his bottom lip.
"Oh saint doux putain." He groans as he feels your hips push more into his. "Fuck, sorry I can't." He moves and bolts away, choosing to ignore the way Max was standing at the exit and watched as Charles ran.
-----------------------------
"Cold!" Charles yells, as Max screams and sprays the champagne all of Charles. This was the only time Max wasn't angry about being second, seeing Charles squirm and be sprayed with champagne was a glorious thing. "Oh fuck off, you love being sprayed in the face, don't you?" Max whispers in Charles's ear which has the Monegasque groaning, picturing himself on his knees and between Max's legs.
"You're right, I do. But only for you," Charles whispers, which has Max stumbling as they take the picture and Charles chuckles and gives a pat to Max on his ass. "See you later, nice race." Charles winks and walks off leaving Max reeling and a very noticeable bulge in his race suits.
The fans go wild.
-------------------------
He couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't hold himself together anymore and he was going crazy. You "accidentally" sent him a picture of you riding Max and he knew exactly where you two were.
Storming up to the hotel room door he knocks loudly, breathing hard, only in his boxers and t-shirt as he was woken from sleep. "Charles?" You're shocked to see him there, but he doesn't care and tugs you into his arms and kisses you hard. A clash of teeth, tongue, and moaning.
Shoving you into the room he kicks the door and picks you up dropping you on the bed. Max smirking as Charles tugs off his shirt, glaring at the two of you. "This is what's going to happen, I'm going to fuck you hard and deep that just looking at me your pussy can still feel me inside you. And you," Charles glares which has Max smirking, all in his naked glory.
"You're going to let my suck your cock and then fuck me because I can't handle this. And then in the morning I'm taking you both to breakfast and then we're done with this little dance, deal?" He asks and you whimper seeing him this way.
"Deal," You both say.
You got a really big noise complaint about your room.
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thatdeadaquarius · 7 months
Note
About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".
Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.
If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.
I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.
NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM
I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!
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Sun: Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.
Comment if any missed, please.
FULL STOP.
THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO
You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever
and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)
can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??
id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)
also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭
the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy
(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)
(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)
dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.
endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)
the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it
speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.
Alhaitham.
sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,
Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature
and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))
(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)
On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)
Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular
like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol
(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)
Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,
but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol
(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)
Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao
(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)
(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)
ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao
Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol
Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)
Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,
Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions
THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO
Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao
and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)
You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa
from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed
(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)
Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol
that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.
Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not
(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )
oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹
OMFG
ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-
the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO
like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)
STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)
for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP
IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA
that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀
(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)
Also yes.
Cyno is a fanboy.
(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)
(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)
(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)
an iced coffee? for me?? :0
ok but real talk…
wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!
i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)
but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o
ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)
Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,
💀♒
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If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily
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prosciuttulipa · 3 months
Text
Period Pain, Go Away
how the JJK men help you through your period
content: afab reader x jjk men, just fluff this time! brief dirty joke in Toji's one (because he's Toji), but every one of them is a good boi in their own way <33
a/n: on my period and am in much pain v_v i can't decide who i want to comfort me, so i'm writing for all of the men i want
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Gojo Satoru who isn't just your boyfriend during your period, but a "girl's girl". He wants to spoil you with desserts and eat the leftovers that you can't finish, do face masks with those cute cucumber slices over the eyes. You want a bath? He's already drawing one, dunking in bath bombs till the water looks like a small galaxy, putting on your comfort show so you can watch it while you soak.
Dealing with pain through fun and smiles has always been his way of coping. So, yes—maybe he does look a bit silly, gossiping with you while you paint sparkles onto his nails, his hair tied up with a pink scrunchie. But what's a boyfriend for, if not to be your Ken doll during your time of need?
It hurts him more than he likes to admit, to see you wince at a bad cramp, or come out of the bathroom with the colour drained from your cheeks. When you can't manage anything more than lying in your bed, he'll rest his head against your stomach, peppering kisses wherever it hurts. "Be good to my girl," he'll jokingly threaten your uterus, poking your tummy gently, "she deserves the world."
Geto Suguru who knows your period is coming before you do. Your irritable mood and food cravings clue him in, and he takes action without saying a single word.
The day your period starts, you realise that the feminine products you usually use have been fully restocked without your notice. The fridge is filled with your period cravings, enough to last a week. Before you can even say anything, a large hand wraps around your waist and presses a hot water bottle against your abdomen. "Good morning, princess," he greets you like he hasn't just pulled off what can only be described as a small miracle, "is everything to your liking?"
You don't know whether to laugh or cry at how perfectly he's predicted you. He's a step ahead of you throughout your entire period, knowing which snack or act of affection you want just by your expression. Some might call his behaviour unreasonable; frankly, he thinks it's bullshit. "Attention, taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer," is what he quotes, when you ask him why he's so observant. "What makes you think I do not absolutely and utterly worship you?"
Nanami Kento who is obviously written by a woman, and so does not flinch when he sees the blood on the bedsheets when he wakes up earlier than you. Instead, he kisses you good morning till you're giggling, distracting you so you don't get a chance to see the stains. He changes the sheets while you're in the bathroom, throwing them in with the rest of the laundry. When you come back out, worrying you dirtied the bed, he merely shrugs. "I didn't see anything, darling."
He treats you like a queen on the daily, but during your period, you're his empress. Each word is law, each action his cue to immediately come to your aid. He'll cook every meal, and won't let you hold the spoon to feed yourself if he can help it. As far as he can see, your only responsibility this week is to lounge around, and let him spoil you rotten.
He thinks it's a crime that you still have to go to work, when you have to pop painkillers with your breakfast just to make it through the day. "I can take care of you, you know," he'll inevitably murmur, kissing the shell of your ear, "I make enough money to support us both. Take the day off, dearest. They don't need you more than I do."
Toji Fushiguro who manages to piss you off on the first day of your period. "What size pussy you wear?" he calls to ask, when he's picking up your feminine products at the corner store, "gotta make sure I take care of that kitty for all the squeezin' she does on me."
When he gets back home and finishes getting an earful on how you're more than just his pocket pussy, he apologises by scooping you up in his arms. "You know you're more than just a good fuck, doll," his words carry a rare sort of honesty, coming from him. "You're a good woman. My woman. Gun's in the second drawer, sweetheart—shoot me if I ever do wrong by you."
His touches turn softer, the smack to your ass replaced with a squeeze on the hip, kisses on your shoulders. He's got a hand on you at all times, just rubbing idle circles against your stomach or lower back to soothe your cramps. When bedtime comes, he makes you lay on your tummy, massaging away the tension in your muscles until you're all nice and pliant. He may not always know what to say, but he'll be damned if his actions make you feel like he doesn't love you.
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l13 · 10 months
Note
hmm idk this is fluffy but i feel like ghost would secretly melt every time his gf would call him ‘angel’
wdym i love fluffff, send me fluffy asks i love emm:(
cw: pure fluff, f!reader
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imagine you and ghost are cuddling, nd you're laying on your back with his hands wrapped around your middle, his head resting against your chest while you're talking about random stuff. And suddenly, nicknames come up, and you realize that you always call him either Simon or Ghost, despite him using 'lovie/love, baby, sweeatheart' regularly on you. Well... most of them were spoken in private, away from prying eyes, but STILL.
You were in shock that you'd never chosen anything for him, and kinda offended on behalf of him, too. He chuckled at your behavior, saying he really didn't care, but you insisted that he needed something. So you started to list off potential nicknames for him,
"Ghostie-"
"Absolutely not."
"Yeah that's bad, umm oh!! You can be my pookie bear,"
he nudged your side softly, the corner of his lips quirking up in amusement "Stop it."
"I'm just playing. I can call you love, too, yknow. You're my love."
You run your fingers through his hair, smiling dumbly at the way you feel his breath hitch, but then he's huffing "That's your nickname, love, you can't have it."
"But I do have it-"
"I have it, and it's for you,"
you purse your lips to stop yourself from laughing, rolling your eyes "Fine." he hums in reply, and you're both quiet for a while, so much so that you think he's fallen asleep.
But then an idea pops into your head and your eyebrows shoot up, "What about angel?"
Ghost doesn't say anything but you can hear the sharp inhale of his nose, his hands tightening the slightest bit around you "Nah,"
you pout down at him, tilting your head to try and get a glimpse of his face, "Why not?"
"Just doesn't fit me, 's all." and you would have let it go if his reply had been different, but your gut told you that he was 100% serious,
"Simon.. Look at me," he refused to do so, so you tugged at his hair the slightest bit, and he groaned lowly, turning over so his chest is flush against your own, supporting his weight on his forearms on either side of your head, his nose nudging your own.
your fingers fall from in between his hair, down to his cheeks, to cradle them in your palms as you look at him "You're an angel."
Ghost huffs, "An angel that kills people, sure,"
"Well... in Supernatural that's the norm-"
"Fuckin' hell.." he's rolling his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips nonetheless.
You narrow your eyes at him playfully, "Rule's changed, you don't get a say in this. I'm gonna call you angel, and that's final."
"Great." a snort escapes you at his dryness, and you giggle when he nuzzles his face against your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your cheekbone.
"I want more enthusiasm or else it's gonna change to pookie bear-"
Simon leans back to fully look at you, his eyebrows shot up, eyes seemingly glinting with mock interest "Changed my mind, angel's growin' on me."
"Thought so,"
<3
The next day when you walk in the mission brief room (idk wtf to call it, meeting room??) you mumble a small "Hey, angel," and maybe your brain is still foggy from sleep or maybe you genuinely didn't think much of it, but Soap's cackle is immediate, "Hey bon, listen I'm lovin' the new name but take me out to dinner first, yeah?"
Ghost's dumb grin fades in a millisecond at soap's comment and before he's realizing what he's doing he lets his hand brush your own as you pass by him, and then he's meeting Soap's stunned eyes, "She's talking to me,"
Soap still doesn't know what the fuck is going on when Ghost turns to you, muttering a small "Hi, lovie," your way,
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thefatedthoughtofyou · 8 months
Text
{ Thank you for the idea @imsodonewiththissite !! It almost got angsty but i controlled myself!!! }
"What in God's name is that?" Dustin’s voice goes almost shrill as he walks behind Steve, looks down at his pumpkin. Eddie's head shoots up from where he's carving his own pumpkin, his legs shot out in front of him, his feet hitting Steve's across from him. Steve flushes, tells Dustin to shut up, and shoves at his legs to get him to move on.
"Alright alright jeez! It's just... I've never seen a pumpkin like that. Did you even try?" Dustin huffs as he settles back into his own carving area between Lucas and Will.
"Yes. I did try. Thank you very much. Henderson." Steve huffs, wipes at his pumpkin, then wipes his hand in the grass to get the bits of guts off. Eddie sits up taller, making a show of trying to see Steve's carving, but not really trying to see, they'd agreed to show each other at the same time.
Steve hadn't really had any idea what to do, so he'd just done something silly. But he could see Will and Dustin’s and theirs were detailed, and spooky. And his just looked... stupid, now. Steve sighed and put the top back on his, waiting for Eddie to finish.
He was staring, he knew he was. He couldn't help it. He loved when Eddie was in full concentration mode, his tongue poking out between his lips, his brows crinkled. Steve would never tell him that. But he could look. No harm in that.
Eddie looked up and met his eyes, smiled brightly, and dusted of his own pumpkin before popping the top back on. He tilted his head, this way and that, a few times and then looked at Steve again.
"Okay. You ready?" He asked, drumming his fingers on the gourd resting under his hands. Steve scrunched his nose.
"I'm having second thoughts." He said quietly, the kids were all yelling, in their own little world, but he still didn't want them to hear.
"Aww. But I'm excited to see it! Especially with the way Dusty Buns reacted." Eddie drooped, his eyes going wide and sad, the way Steve was weak agaisnt. He sighed, his own body drooping.
"Ugh. Fine. On three?" He tilted his head. Eddie nodded.
"On three."
"One."
"Twosie." Eddie wiggled his fingers, Steve rolled his eyes fondly.
"Three!" They both said it together and turned their pumpkins toward each other.
Steve's eyes shot open, Eddie's was... good. Like really good. Everything a spooky jack-o-lantern should be. Creepy eyes, sharp teeth, what looked like a skull nose.
"Holy shit Eds. That's... holy shit. Mine is so shit compared to- why are you making that face? What's happening?" Steve changed directions mid sentence because Eddie's mouth had dropped open as he stared at Steve hideous excuse for a carving.
"Oh my god you hate it." Steve grabbed at his pumpkin, about to turn it back toward him and hide it forever but he froze when a sound started coming out of Eddie's open mouth.
It took a moment to really form, but once it got going, Steve could hear it. Manical giggles were bubbling up out of Eddie's mouth. He slapped his hands over his face to stop them but they just kept coming.
Steve wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He frowned though, his brows dropping on his head and Eddie immediately shook his head.
"Oh my god he's ADORABLE!" Eddie cackled the words, shoved his own pumpkin genlty aside and crawled toward Steve's, his hands outstreched and grabbing.
"I know it's- wait what?" Steve was so confused.
"Steve I love him. Look at his stupid little face." He'd devolved into baby talk and was scratching at the pumkin like you would a babies chin. Steve felt himself smiling.
"Wait you actually like it?" Dustin guffawed from behind him. Eddie spun around fast, guarding Steve's pumpkin from sight.
"Excuse me?! 'It'? Don't you ever speak like that about my son- our son!" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at Steve. Dustin rolled his eyes.
"It's not even scary! It's just a big mouth!" Dustin’s hands flailed. Eddie screamed at him dramatically, clutching his chest.
"He has a tooth! And two adorable teeny tiny eyes!" Eddie moved, pointed at the face Steve had made. El and Will both aw-d, Max and Lucas smiled, Mike just rolled his eyes.
"He's not- it's just-" Dustin stammered a bit.
"What? Dustin. He's what?!" Eddie asked, his hands still clutching at his chest.
"He's ugly! Okay? It's an ugly pumpkin!" Dustin yelled, Steve didn't even have time to feel hurt, because Eddie shrieked again, his voice going impossibly high.
"Dustin Henderson! I can't believe you just called your brother ugly. You heathen!" Eddie practically hissed the last word before he hopped to his feet and bundled Steve's pumpkin into his arms.
"Unbelievable. We don't need them Steve. Let's go." He popped his nose into the air and looked to Steve. He knew he had to look like a deer in headlights, not sure exactly where they were meant to be going.
"Kitchen." Eddie whispered, giving Steve a wink.
"Oh right. Okay yeah." Steve stumbled toward the door, opening it for Eddie as he stomped after him.
"Oh what you're going inside? Just leaving us out here?" Dustin called, Will and El booing him as he kept taunting Steve and Eddie. Eddie spun, looked at Dustin, propped the pumpkin on his hip like a toddler and pointed his finger accusingly.
"Yes. And we are leaving... in a huff!" Eddie's accent sounded slightly French at the end as he spun around again and stomped into the house.
"Slam the door Steven. Show them we mean it." Eddie said with an air finality. Steve grinned, fighting back laughter, and slammed the door. He tugged the blind closed too, for good measure. He turned to find Eddie wiping at the pumpkin with a wet washrag, getting all the little shavings off.
"You didn't have to do that." Steve said, moving to stand next to him. But not too close.
"Do what?" Eddie asked, grabbing the dish towel off the little hook and drying the pumpkin now. Steve sighed, leaned his butt against the counter and looked at the floor.
"Play it up liked you love the pumpkin. To make me feel better about my complete lack of skill." Steve laughed a little, shrugged, and looked up to find Eddie staring at him. He tossed the towel down and took a step forward.
"Oh no. Unfortunately for you, Steven. That was a genuine reaction. I fucking love this thing." He patted at the side of the pumpkin and grinned at Steve. Steve frowned.
"Really? It's not... I mean it's nothing special. Did you see Will's, I swear there was a castle on it." Steve shook his head. Dismissive.
"Oh I saw it. Still like yours more." Eddie said, matter of fact.
"Why?" Steve was still frowning. Eddie sighed, walked over and stood next to Steve, his arm pressed agaisnt him, warm.
"Me and my mom used to buy four pumpkins. Every Halloween. Always four. Two for her. And two for me." Eddie's voice was soft, the way it always was when he talked about his mother. Steve found himself trying not to breathe to loudly, he wanted to hear everything Eddie had to say.
"We'd each do a classic, spooky guy. But the other one. The other one we used to make just... the most ridiculous faces. Or the dumbest ones. Anything cute and silly." He looked at Steve for a moment, a soft smile on his lips at the memory.
"It very quickly became a contest of who could make who laugh the most. Just by carving some silly face." Eddie shook his head and laughed gently.
"I haven't made a funny one since she died. And you turned that pumpkin around and it took me back. To all those stupid pumpkins and how we used to laugh. And I mean really laugh." Eddie's voice was getting tight as he spoke, a little wobbly, and Steve wanted to hug him, wasn't sure if he could.
"She had the best laugh Steve. She'd have loved this." He moved his hand over the pumpkin again, gently stroked down it's side.
"And you."
It was almost too quiet. Steve almost didn't hear it. Wasn't sure he had until he looked up and saw the way Eddie was looking at him. Steve is so sure that it's the same way he'd been looking at Eddie for months now.
"It's the perfect pumpkin Steve. The best one I've seen in years." He's so serious, when he says it. Steve feels like he might cry. Feels a bit reckless, with Eddie looking at him like that. So he leans toward Eddie, his heart fluttering as Eddie smiles, just a barely thing, and leans toward him too.
The kiss is soft, Eddie makes a little sound in the back of his throat when Steve's hand moves to his neck and pulls him closer. They kiss until they're both smiling so much it's just their teeth clicking together and Eddie dissolves into manic giggles again and buries his face in Steve's neck as he holds him close.
"You have a good laugh too Ed's. " Steve sighs, pulling Eddie closer as he hums and nuzzles into his neck, his fingers pressing into Steve's back as he cuddles closer. Steve breathes deeply, his nose buried in Eddie's hair, and feels Eddie smile against the soft skin of his neck.
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( below is an approximation of their pumpkin faces. I fucked up the eddie one's mouth dont looookk at meeeee )
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2K notes · View notes
oreoluvskento · 4 months
Text
hate sex w nanami
a/n: uhhhh heres that hate sex fic i promised two months ago :D my bad yall i got really busy and lost all motivation to keep writing on here, but i'm back now :)
cw: female reader, wrote this with black reader in mind but no mention of specific race, NOT PROOFREAD, no use of y/n, cunnilingus, overstimulation, cum swallowing, brat tamer nanami, brat reader, im very horny, that should be me honestly
"fuck, what are we doing?" you ask as you and nanami kiss feverishly. he climbs up onto his desk with you, laying you down onto your back roughly.
"don't know," he growls, his hand coming up to cup your jaw as he kisses his way down to your neck. your eyes widen as he bites you, and you feel your knees go weak when he pushes his thigh against your throbbing core while sucking your neck at the same time.
"i thought you couldn't stand me," you moan, rutting yourself against him, to which he groans at. he reaches down and tugs your pants off, your legs kicking them away.
"i can't," he answers, now tossing your underwear to the side and kissing his way down your thighs.
about two minutes earlier, you and nanami were just yelling at each other about your recent mission. you had a plan and nanami completely disregarded it for it's lack of, well, planning. you were more erratic and spontaneous, wanting to go with the flow, while nanami was more calculated and careful, always wanting to stay organized.
you barged in immediately after your checkup with shoko, still fuming because he ignored you when you tried to ask him on your way back about why the plans changed. you complained to shoko about it, to which she said "instead of yelling at me, why not go yell at him," to which you took literally.
nanami didn't acknowledge you once ever since you came in, which infuriated you even further. although his face was stoic, a slightly noticeable vein was popping out of his forehead and his fingers were gripping his pen tighter.
you spun him around in his seat, still complaining in his face, your noses almost touching, which ended up being his last straw. "you are incredibly childish, irresponsible, and i simply have no respect for you at all! you endanger our lives every time we go on a mission together, but all you can think about is how much fun you're having! you're selfish, and honestly a little bit dense, and i wish you'd shut up and leave, you're disturbing my peace."
your eyes widen as he speaks, his voice barely raising but his anger clearly showing. "you can kiss my ass." you grit and the look of disgust that appears on his face makes you even angrier. before you can say anything, he beats you to it.
"please leave," he says, standing up and now looking down at you.
feeling stubborn, you stand your ground and cross your arms. "no," you childishly protest and he leans his head back with a sigh.
"leave or-"
"or what?" you interrupt, moving closer to him and something in the atmosphere changes. for you it could've been the way he looked at you with such an intimidating expression, one that made you submit almost too quickly. for him it could've been the way you were pressed up against him, your chest against his and your pelvises almost touching.
before you could process what was going on, you were sitting on his desk, his lips attacking yours furiously and you were kissing him back.
his mouth is now on your pussy, eating you out like you were his favorite meal, his anger fueling his actions. "fuck don't stop, it feels so good," you moan and nanami grunts against your clit.
"stop fucking talking," he growls, his tongue darting back out to play with your clit and you slide your hands into his hair.
"fuck...you," you respond, breathless as he continues to mercilessly eat you out. nanami sucks your clit into his mouth over and over again, essentially treating it as a pacifier, and just when you think you're about to cum, he stops and inserts two fingers inside you.
"who knew something so sweet could come out of someone so bitter," he teases, watching as your pussy swallows his digits. you're unable to speak properly, your mouth open mid gasp and your back arching off the table. nanami speeds up, the sound making him even harder, and you finally gain your ability to speak again.
"shut up and eat- oh fuck- me out," you moan, pushing his head back onto your pussy and he complies, slurping away what has been produced by his ministrations. you choke on another moan and rut your hips against his face, to which he responds by holding your hips in place with his free hand. now completely controlling your pleasure, nanami fingers you faster, the tips of his fingers constantly brushing against your g-spot and before you knew it, you were having an orgasm.
you struggle to stay quiet as your body lights up but you find it difficult as nanami refuses to let up, his fingers fighting against your constricting walls and his tongue still hard at work on your clit. as you come down, you truly start to feel the overstimulation and try to pull away. "mm mm, stay right here. you should've left when i told you to. now it's my turn," he says, muffled by your pussy and you cry out when he starts sucking your sensitive clit again.
"please, its too much, i can't," you plead but it falls onto deaf ears as he goes on. nanami adds another finger and your eyes roll to the back of your head, the stretch adding a new sensation to focus on.
"if only you were as obedient as your pussy. look at how she sucks me right in," he coos and you subconsciously get tighter at his teasing. he chooses not to say anything about it yet, and focuses on stretching you out for his dick. your breathing picks up and nanami recognizes the cues for your next orgasm so he dives back onto your clit, spitting on it and slurping it loosely.
you cum unexpectedly this time and nanami keeps fucking you through it, your body thrashing against his hold. he finally pulls away from you, sitting up to look at your blissed out face. you open your eyes when he grabs onto your jaw with one hand and prods at your mouth with the other.
"open," he commands and you do as he says, the fuzz in your brain stopping you from thinking clearly. he puts his fingers into your mouth and you moan as you suck away the mess on them. he pulls you off the desk and leans you against it, your upper body folded over it now.
he pushes his clothed erection against you from behind and groans when you push back against him. nanami thinks about teasing you some more but he has a meeting with yaga about your partnership soon and he's racing against time. he quickly pulls his dick out, the tip turning slightly red as it's been begging for attention sine he kissed you.
your head is down when he pushes into you and you snap it up when you feel the way it stretches you out. a high pitched moan escapes you and nanami slaps his hand over your mouth while pulling you up to talk to you. "shut up, i'm not even all the way in yet," he rasps and you et out a sound of desperation.
once he bullies the rest of his cock inside of you, he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours, and if it wasn't for his hand on your mouth, the entire academy would've heard the moan that came out of you. nanami sets a relentless pace, his anger towards you growing the louder you get.
"you really don't know how to be quiet, huh?" he growls, pushing all the way into you, shimmying his hips to get deeper, and you fall over, stopping yourself from moaning this time. tears come to your eyes and he fucks you deeply, the pleasure too much for you to handle and your knees going weak. nanami realizes you effort and scoffs to himself. "so you do know how to follow directions? i knew it wouldn't take much to put a brat like you in her place," he says and nod furiously, not even sure of what he's saying.
he speeds up now, his eyes fixated on the way your ass jiggles every time he thrusted into it. your pussy begins squeezing him like it did earlier but nanami isn't having it. he pulls you up by your hair and grabs you by your throat. "you'll wait, do you understand me? hold it until i say you can cum," he instructs and you let out a whine in protest. ultimately, you listen, and although it was extremely hard to focus on not cumming, you succeed.
nanami takes the hand on your throat and begins rubbing your clit with it. "make sure you stay quiet just like this. go ahead and cum for me," he says and not even a second later your gushing all over his dick. he moans out curses as you cum, your pussy holding onto his dick and when you're done, he pulls out. he yanks your shoulder and pushes you onto the ground, and you catch on, taking his dick in your hand and stroking it.
this is your first time seeing it and god was it big. you take the tip in your mouth and bob your way down his shaft, wanting to feel it in your throat. nanami moans as you suck him off and before long, he cums in your mouth. you swallow it as it comes and when he's done, he pulls you back to your feet. he carries you onto the desk and rubs the side of your hips as he comes down from his own high, his head on your shoulder.
"i'm sorry for barging in here and acting an ass," you say softly and he chuckles, his head still down.
"i'm sorry for calling you childish, irrisponsible, selfsih-"
"alright, i get it you're sorry!" you interrupt and he laughs a little harder. he stands up, tucks his dick away, and helps you put your pants back on before giving you a bottle of water and watching you leave.
later that day, during his meeting with yaga, at which he wanted to request a partner switch, he decided on sticking with you for just a little longer.
1K notes · View notes
psychedelic-ink · 11 months
Text
𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇
pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader
genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni
word count: 9k
summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.
warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink
additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!
a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀
edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist
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Joel was lonely. 
He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 
Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.
But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 
Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 
Ravish 
Ravish 
Ravish 
It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 
Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 
Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 
JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 
He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 
“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 
Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 
While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 
Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 
Liked! Added to your queue for later.
Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 
Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 
Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 
Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 
Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 
“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 
“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 
“Patience everyone.” 
“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 
Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—
He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 
Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 
His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 
“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 
Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 
“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 
Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 
He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 
“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 
What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 
He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 
Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 
Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 
“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 
Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 
A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 
“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 
Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 
Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 
“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 
Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 
“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 
Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 
With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 
“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 
You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 
A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 
He wants them to come at the same time. 
Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 
Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 
“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 
She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 
He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 
“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  
Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 
His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 
 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 
“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 
Good girl. 
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Joel is a weak weak man. 
Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 
Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 
Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 
Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 
He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 
And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 
He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 
Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 
The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 
A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  
“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 
He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 
“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 
Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 
“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 
His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 
“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 
You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 
Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 
 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 
“Can—Can you hear me?” 
Her eyes sparkle. 
“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 
She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 
“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 
There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 
“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 
Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 
“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”
“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 
She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 
Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 
“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 
“Would you laugh if I said no?” 
“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 
Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 
Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  
“Anything that you like, sir?” 
“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 
“The heart-shaped ones?” 
Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 
“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 
“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 
“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 
Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 
Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 
“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 
“Yea.” 
“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 
She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 
His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 
Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 
“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 
“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 
Fuck. 
“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 
But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 
“Harder.” 
She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 
She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 
It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 
“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 
“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 
“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 
“P-Pillow?” 
She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 
“Shit, say that again.” 
“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 
She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 
“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 
With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 
“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 
“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 
With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 
The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 
“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 
Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 
“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 
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You hate visiting home. 
You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.
Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 
JMiller. 
You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 
You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 
You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 
Of course he did, he was perfect. 
Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 
Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 
Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 
“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 
“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 
“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 
He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 
“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 
You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 
“You know what—” 
“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  
You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 
The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 
“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 
You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 
“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 
The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 
“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 
He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 
“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 
You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 
“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 
“You don’t have—” 
“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 
“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 
The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 
Your rake your brain for answers. 
Why? 
Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 
His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 
“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 
You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 
“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 
Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 
“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.
“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 
Oh shit. 
Shit shit shit shit. 
It is him. 
JMiller—J stands for Joel. 
Fuck. 
“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 
He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 
“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 
“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 
“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 
Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 
Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 
“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 
“Technically you bought it.” 
“Right. . .” 
The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 
“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 
You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 
He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 
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After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 
He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 
It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 
“Is something wrong?” you ask. 
“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 
“Ask away.” 
“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 
“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 
Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 
He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 
“Is that okay?” 
This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
His grin is infectious. 
“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 
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You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 
The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 
He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 
You found it incredibly charming. 
As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 
Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 
“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 
Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 
“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 
You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 
Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 
“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 
“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 
You gasp, “P-Please.” 
He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 
He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 
“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 
Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 
“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 
Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 
Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—
“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 
A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 
“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 
You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 
“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 
“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 
Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 
“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 
He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 
Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 
“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 
When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 
“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 
“You really had low expectations, huh?” 
“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.” 
“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 
You smile, heart fluttering. 
“Me too.” 
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