#look i have anxiety alright
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i’ve stared at this for so long that i now hate it and think ive lost all concept of how to write so take this and get it out of my google docs
the introduction is rough and the medical depictions (and accuracy/realism) could use some (a lot of) work but whatever! here it is, my vague yet still oddly specific idea of how the face reveal would go in @myriadblvck ’s streamer au:
tw: description of a panic attack? i think?
[this takes place post first irl meet but before they’re officially together]
imagine ghost has a glasgow smile but on one side they carved a little too deep and left some nerve damage. time and surgery helped, after which he could eat unimpeded and talk without a lisp, but there's still some facial nerve damage and/or skin contractures from scarring, specifically around the corner of his mouth.
now, everytime he smiles, be it shit eating grin or a full genuine joy filled smile that not even grumpy mcgrumperson could hold off, it always looks wrong because one corner doesn't raise fully like the other.
everything else is fine, there isn’t any facial paralysis, he just smiles… wrong. especially since only one eye properly squints when he smiles, giving him the look of someone who got stuck mid wink.
if he wants to look “normal” (or as normal as he could get it) he has to manually squint his other eye. still, it always felt weird; you don't realize how much those muscles affect the rest of your face until they're gone.
it's why he learned to always wear the mask.
when his expression is neutral, you don’t really notice it. if you can see his mouth when he talks however, it’s obvious that there’s something wrong. he wouldn’t say he’s necessarily ashamed of the scars and damage itself, but it’s the stares that are the worst. before he started hiding behind it, people would openly gawk or even glare at him as if he was some ne’er-do-well gang member that got what was coming to him.
he still remembers the cosmetic surgeon that had been talking to him about fixing the contractures— the whole appointment was a fucking nightmare. the cuts had healed nicely enough especially considering how bad it could have been; he was lucky to only need a little cosmetic help. the only reason he was there was so he could fucking eat food without struggling to open his mouth.
the doctor spent god knows how long breaking down everything wrong with his face like he was a fucking car mechanic lying about how dirty your filter is. the guy constantly mentioned that while he was under, they could also fix his jawline, do a rhinoplasty, trying to break him down to agree to more work.
he was already fuming my the time the doc brought up how kids would react. asking ghost if he wanted to scare children since “you cant expect the little youngins that are still learning about the world to not get scared by something scary,” and that “even some adults would cringe at the scarring.”
what stuck out most was the condescending smile he had when he said it. as if he was pointing out the obvious and ghost was being stupid and shortsighted by not agreeing.
he declined everything except what was medically necessary. the procedure went fine and after an aggravatingly long recovery period, he could eat solid foods again without issue. but the comments still stuck with him.
…okay, maybe he’s a little ashamed.
scaring kids with your face doesn’t feel good and being reminded of everything you’ve lost when you try to smile can really fuck you up in a way words fail to describe.
so yeah, he hates it. he’s gotten used to the mask, both skull clad balaclava and simple medical mask, being a permanent layer of armor. even now that he’s a bit more comfortable in his own skin it still feels wrong to pull it off.
when he gets close to soap, it still feels like a layer of vulnerability that he’ll never be prepared for.
the first time he let soap see his face, there hadn’t been any grandiose build up, no extravagant planning.
simon had arrived just a few hours earlier. he hated commercial flights with a burning passion but it was always worth it to see johnny.
with soaps twin out of town for the week, he had decided to take leave to spend time with his friend, a friend that he most certainly did NOT have a crush on (a disclaimer roach and gaz heard everytime they started snickering over ghost taking leave.)
johnny had cooked something nice and simple for dinner, saying that simon had spent too long with MREs and deserved real food (ghost only agreed if he was the one washing the dishes, soap had laughed and told him he's not so kind as to let him off the hook for chores).
when they ate, it was always in the living room with johnny taking care to always stay angled away from simon, never trying to catch a glimpse, regardless of how much he wanted to see what was under the mask. the obvious gesture of kindness and respect for his boundaries always left him feeling all weird and fuzzy inside. but, then again, johnny seemed pretty good at triggering that feeling in general.
their finished plates were on the coffee table and johnny was watching whatever dumb movie he had put on. he was pretty sure the man spent more time talking over it and making fun of everything than he did actually watching it (it was simon’s favorite way to watch a movie.)
ghost however, was watching soap. thinking.
in the end, it was an impulsive decision made after a strong three seconds of consideration.
“you uhm— you can look by the way,” ghost stared at the can of soda in his hands, immediately regretting the words.
“what?” soap didn’t fully turn, just shifted slightly to hear him better. a simple gesture to show he was listening without turning to face him. it normally made simon happy to see that johnny was more than willing to accommodate for his boundaries. now though it made him feel stupid for robbing johnny of a normal face to face conversation, a normal human interaction, just over his idiotic insecurities.
“my face, you—,” he felt his heart block his airway and tried clearing his throat before continuing, “you can look if you want,” christ he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. why was he getting so fucked up over this?
“are you sure?” he hadn’t turned yet, but ghost could see his pensive expression from here. this should be nothing. realistically, he knew johnny seeing his scars wouldn’t suddenly make him hate him… right?
“yes.”
but it was more than the fear of hatred, wasn’t it? he was scared that johnny would see him. see more than just the scars, see all of the ugly idiosyncrasies and insecurities laid bare. afraid that johnny would see the truth of how unlovable he was.
jesus he was getting so fucking worked up and dramatic over nothing.
ghost didn’t look up. he made an effort to not focus on his peripheral vision. he heard soap turn, heard the intake of breath. the silence was loud only for a second. then, deafening white noise surrounded him, inescapable, suffocating.
fuck.
he didn’t regret giving permission but god did he regret everything else; the stupid scars, the stupid nerve damage, the stupid way he had managed to fall for someone so fucking good like johnny while he was unequivocally unworthy of his love.
stop being so fucking dramatic. you are not together, never have been and never will be. reality was blatant in front of him but it didn’t stop his heart from foolishly hoping.
he heard soap stand and walk closer. saw from where he was still staring a hole in the can his feet step in front of his. saw johnny’s hands raise. he took a deep breath in, closed his eyes, and with a great deal of effort didn’t flinch when soaps fingers grazed his cheek.
both of his hands came up to cup his face, holding him and ever so slightly tilting his face up, giving him the chance to pull away. he didn’t. he may be a coward but he wasn’t backing down.
ghost eventually opened his eyes to see soap staring at him with wide eyes. he looked away, staring off to some point on the right. he hated not knowing what soap was thinking.
they stayed there for a while before soap broke the silence, muttering, “i fuckin knew you had freckles.”
it was stupid but it shocked a laugh out of ghost. he meant to drop his head, embarrassed that something so dumb made him laugh, but accidentally just pushed himself further into soaps hands making him blush.
he looked up and saw soap staring even harder than before. the chuckle died in his chest.
“do that again.”
ghost just gave him a confused look.
“smile.”
such a simple request, a one word sentence, but it set his face ablaze. his breath caught in his throat, somewhere around where his heart was still trying to choke him.
…he hadn’t thought it was that bad but soaps reaction indicated otherwise. fuck. was his it that awful? he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. this was stupid. he was stupid.
“simon,” of course, one word from johnny and it felt like he could breathe again.
“please?”
fucking goddamn soap and his stupid fucking puppy dog eyes and the way he has ghost wrapped around his fucking finger without even realizing.
ghost smiled. there was no real mirth, more a grimace than anything else. he just wanted to get this over with.
soap was still staring at him, his thumbs tracing his lips, following scars, drawing imaginary lines between freckles… if he wasn't so terrified it might have felt nice.
“Christ,” ghosts heart cracked more, “you weren't lying when you said you were beautiful.”
ghost huffed a laugh and went back to staring off to the right, the fake smile dropping. of course soap would try to lighten the mood with a joke.
his panic fled as quickly as it had consumed him, now just left sitting in soap's living room, face still cradled in caring hands, resigned to his mistakes.
he felt so tired and johnny's hands felt so inviting.
“i wasn't joking,” soap looked…upset? angry? wait— fuck, what’d he do?
ghost stared back at soap, confused and tired. soaps nails felt the grooves of the scar, catching where the skin was raised and lowered.
“you don't have to lie, soap. im a grown man. I'm not fragile. you don't need to coddle me,” ghost said it like it was a joke, hoping soap would laugh along and that this would all just blow over. that tomorrow morning they could forget this ever happened.
“are you calling me a liar?” soap’s brow furrowed. great. instead, he had managed to make everything worse and piss off soap as well.
ghost took in a deep breath, giving himself another shot at calming things down, “no, I'm not. I think you're lying, but you're not a liar,” he stood and stepped to the side, grabbing their dirty plates and walking them to the kitchen sink, “you just don't want to upset me, it's fine. I get it. you're a nice person but you don't have to lie to spare my feelings.”
“I am not fucking lying!” as per usual, all ghost had managed to do was make things worse. there’s a reason he had decided to stick to the battlefield and give up on domesticity.
“well alright then. agree to disagree,” he turned the kitchen tap and started rinsing the dishes, waiting for the water to heat up. just walk away. end it there. let us forget about this stupid blunder and move on. please just leave it. please, please, please—
“no.”
the force behind it damn near made ghost drop the plate he was holding. he managed to set it in the sink carefully and turned to face soap, who was now in the kitchen as well.
“i— I'm not just gonna fucking— simon,” soap took in a deeper breath and went to continue but ghost was faster.
“johnny,” he interrupted, walking forward with his hands up in a gesture of surrender, approaching slowly.
one last chance to not fuck everything up.
“the fact is they're called deformities for a reason. they're not cute. they're not pretty. they're your body’s way of healing what it can and protecting what it can't. it's not meant to look nice, it's just—”
“bullshit they’re not pretty! says fucking who?” the genuine distress in soap’s voice and force behind his words caught him off guard. “simon—”
he huffed and ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling slightly at the strands. christ, ghost needs to shut the fuck up. every single time he speaks he just upsets soap more and more.
he needs to retake his hostage negotiations courses. clearly he has forgotten everything about how to diffuse a situation.
johnny takes another second to breathe and collect his thoughts before he speaks.
“simon. I know that— that ‘this’ isn't something that's going to fix itself overnight and I don't expect it to. but, ‘the fact is,’ I think you're pretty.”
ghost opens his mouth to disagree but johnny doesn’t let him.
“no no,” johnny put his hand over simon’s mouth, shocking him into silence. he blinks twice, stupefied.
“i think— no. I know you're pretty. cute even. beautiful is a given but obviously worth mentioning.”
his hand moved to cup simon’s cheek. ghost grabbed his wrist but didn’t stop him, wether it was a warning or encouragement he himself didn’t know.
johnny continued, unperturbed, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right?”
there was a pause and simon realized he wanted an answer.
“johnny-”
“ah ah!” his hand moved back to cover his mouth, grabbing his face and shaking his head back and forth, over accentuating his words, “you disagreeing doesn't change that, right? yes or no.”
he stopped shaking him and moved his hand back to simon’s cheek. simon sighed, defeated, “yes. you are right.”
johnny looked smug, “good. and what do you say when i give you a compliment you don’t agree with?”
simon sputtered, “wha— i don't fucking know—”
“nothing! you don’t say anything!” soap looked way too proud of himself and he continued, “or thank you if you feel so inclined.”
“that was a trick question,” simon replied eventually.
johnny thumbed over his scars once more, again tracing them, “sure it was. now go take a shower.”
he patted his cheek twice and walked to the hallway.
“wait,” johnny probably shook the few remaining brain cells out of his head. “this whole conversation ends with you telling me that I stink?”
“yes. rancid,” johnny opened the door to the linen closet. simon was still in the kitchen. the tap was still running.
“no dipshit, do you not remember telling me that commercial planes makes you feel gross?” johnny threw a towel at him, which he caught just in time for johnny to hit him with a bath rag.
ghost had mentioned that… ages ago, he thinks. on facetime with each other, discussing the merits of bathrooms on public transport. he had said that enclosed, crowded spaces like commercial planes or buses made him feel, well, gross. how—or why—did he remember that?
“but… I’m supposed to wash the dishes?” a weak argument against the stubbornness he was faced with but simon had officially lost track of his mind and this conversation.
johnny shot him a weird look as he walked back towards the kitchen sink. simon still hadn’t moved.
“did you think i was being serious earlier?”
“yes???” he felt like he had been given a lobotomy.
johnny decided to take pity on him and explained in a soft voice that felt out of place, “i was being sarcastic. i’m not going to make you wash the dishes, simon.”
“but that was the agreement: you cook and i wash the dishes.”
johnny laughed as if he remembered something funny, “yeah, i lied.”
simon still stood there, trying to figure out if he had a stroke. johnny had been angry, completely pissed at him, but now was letting him off the hook and calling him pretty? what the fuck is happening?
johnny turned him and pushed him towards the hallway. simon could have resisted but his resolve always seems to crumble around johnny mactavish.
“now go shower, you beautiful bastard,” soap grabbed one of the plates out of the sink and started washing it with water that had probably heated ages ago.
ghost walked towards the bathroom, feeling like he was on autopilot, limbs disconnected from his brain. his cheek still felt… odd? weird? tingly?
it felt something from where johnny had grabbed it. ghost thinks… he thinks he likes the feeling, whatever it is.
he needs to sleep.
#ghost: i look like a monster :(#soap: OH NO HES HOT#[also the interaction ghost has with the doctor is based on real life experience both me and other family members have had lmao]#also also it goes w/o saying but this isn’t negative towards cosmetic surgery but rather the cosmetic surgery industry#not pictured: me having a full scale debate w/ myself over tagging the person this is literally for#look i have anxiety alright#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#unreliable narrator#(soap is so fucking in love and ghost is so fucking stupid)#streamer au#streamer! au#streamer! soap#or is it#streamer!soap#god i hate tumblrs tagging system#my writing
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22 days until gaon's 22nd birthday
day 11 - the time when he forgot where he had put his mic
#xdinary heroes#gaon#jungsu#kwak jiseok#kim jungsu#gaon22#he's so chaotic IT GIVES ME ANXIETY#since i watched this clip for the first time i get so anxious whenever he reaches out for something during a performance#it's always like 'shit it isn't there is it??'#there's a moment during my fave performance where he reaches for his pick and for a second it looks like he can't find it#and it makes my heart drop every time#he's the master of losing things oof#(i've been like him too until i started to be more conscious about where i put my stuff)#(and by now i'm overconscious)#(i'm always like 'okay i packed this thing' and five minutes later i'm like 'but did i???')#(and then i check again and everything is alright)#(and five minutes later i am like 'but did i actually pack it??' and i have to check again)#also kudos to jungsu for trying to save gaon immediately
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#aaaaaah I can't wait for tomorrow#actually i can#but like miserably#i still have to finish my term paper tho so 🥲#current plan is to be at the venue at 3 pm but tbh it's up to the db gods#the next time i will have more than 5 hours of sleep will be next thursday#alright wait let me start over again#so tomorrow i'm going to berlin for bc#on sunday i'm going to Leipzig and on Wednesday I have VIP for Munich but I have anxiety so I'll be 4 hrs early anyway#and because we're trying to save money (and failing) i only have a hostel for munich :)))#three cheers for sleeping in train stations at 3 in the morning i guess#what doesn't help is that the trams are currently on strike so i'll either have to walk or get a taxi to my apartment#which sucks#anyway and to top it all off i got a bout of the big sad recently so i haven't been able to work on my term paper#which i have to hand in next thursday at the latest#but i only have until today to work on it bc i'll be travelling around until... next thursday when i have to hand it in#this is bad#anyway but enough of that I'M SO LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING EVERYBODY AGAIN!!!!#and praying that they play red taillights live#that song has been living in my head rent free#as well as not your bro for some reason????
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every single day i experience symptoms of ocd and every single day i'm somehow surprised by it
#one example being when i'm getting ready to go to sleep#i literally have to scroll through my dash until i find a picture that doesn't give me some kind of anxiety#can't leave the screen on a picture of this sloppy red cake batter because it looks vaguely gorey and what if i die in some gorey accident#can't leave the screen on a picture of a cat because what if my cat dies tomorrow#can't leave the screen on a picture of a beautiful field with a yellowy filter on it because it makes me think of some kinda movie scene#where someone is recalling pleasant memories on their death bed#can't leave it on a picture of fire because what it my house burns down in my sleep#can't leave it on a picture of a graveyard for obvious reasons etc. etc.#there's always something. everything links to death with me and i can't go to sleep with any of it on my screen because it's ''''bad luck''#or whatever the fuck#but a picture of like some cute colorful patterns or a silly little doll or some cool clothes ? well that's alright i guess :)#i experience other ocd symptoms but that's the one that always makes me go woah wtf ???? i have ocd ????#edit: remembering a few years ago when i started getting really really bad fears relating to my ribs. ribs in general#and every time i lied down i had to make sure my ribs were perfectly lined up with each other ?#and my ribs are already pretty misshapen so it took. a long time to do that#and i'd toss and turn and freak out and get so scared and frustrated and cry. they had to be lined up#because the fact that your ribs can move and sometimes one side is further back or further forward or whatever scared me so much#i'm like mostly over that now. i don't do that anymore but. weird how i didn't think that was an ocd thing back then lmao
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they are all such the same type character and i love em so much for it.
#alright i understand they all have their differences but in my mind. they are the same.#something something very scary below the very anxious exterior. something like that.#also. inexperienced. in life.#sad lil outcast who finally get to come out of their shell#you wouldnt understand#theyre all just so cute tho. wth#describing their similarity is so tough but if you know you know. you know.#yakumo and mayoi actually look so alike in these its kinda scary wth#no one from obey me fits the vibe sadly. levi's anxiety has a different flavor somehow. idk#couldnt find a better image for seiko because everyone hates my first wife. how rude.#she's the OG btw. my start of the blorbo-ing.#omw to rewatch a 'every seiko kimura moment' video brb.#<3#i have a cutout of ~90 cm of her opposite of my bed. and one a bit smaller next to my door/above my lightswitch. shes awesome.#yay#sillyposting
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sdhgsjghjs i went back to work at my old job (Lear, not the evil doctor) and even though it’s been over a year a bunch of my old coworkers are still there and came over for Hugs :’)
#y'all. when i worked there last year i was getting like. 11.75 an hour#while i was gone there was a plant-wide pay raise to $15 an hour so#i slid back in that door so fast when i found out XD#after 90 days it'll go up to $16#it is Physical labor but by golly this about to be the most financially stable my family has ever been XD#im kinda waiting for a shoe to drop#but it was lovely actually my old supervisors remember me and were so nice#i'm on a line that's away from the squad of Moms i had wound up with#so it looks like i won't have as many people all in my business this time#plus ive made enough progress with the social anxiety i should be alright
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Reversing the "Spαmton gives Terrarium business pointers" friendship dynamic by studying for my mass media + advertising comm final by reading notes aloud to my plush of him
#''the best way to study is to explain the material to someone else''#ok well my roommate went to europe so it's just me here sorry!#and I didn't bother to make any friends on campus bc I have social anxiety ✌️✌️✌️ ajhfksgdf#there IS a study session immediately before the final but it's tomorrow morning at 9am in the campus library#and the one and only time I went in the library was freshman year so I'm too nervous about wandering around looking for people all weird 😔#it's fine though I'm pretty confident in myself#the material is pretty easy#the avg score on the midterm was like a 65-70% (lowest score was in the 30s) and I got a 97% so....... idk I think I'm alright lol#anyway.#there were so many times when I was in class and was like ''woagh just like spantob...'' (bc I am diseased) so this works fine#I am teaching him better advertising practices it's my turn 😌#rozzy cringe moments real or whatever#roz posts#platonic tag#p: glitch n glow
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why tf did i decide to do a semester abroad. i'm lonely as fuck and it's been 3 days.
#.mgp#also i have possibly given myself a concussion today so yay.#(and have had a headache for 2 of the three days anyway)#(and forgot to eat and drink for most of these 3 days)#(i am like a goldfish. if i'm not reminded to eat and drink i will forget and die)#LOOK. i am TRYING to be independent but god fucking damn it i just wanna go home.#my flatmates are alright and the uni seems cool but fucking hell.#i have 2 semesters at the same time and am nauseous for most of the time.#have gone shopping today and bought things for a shitton of money just to end up realising that i don't even have an entire meal but#just parts of multiple and my food might go bad before i get to use it.#and if i make food i don't even have the possibility to put thaf in the fridge because i didn't buy boxes i could pack it in.#and we also have a 2 ppl fridge for 4 fucking people#and the fucking americans just walk everywhere with their dirty af shoes even though we literally wrote down agreed upon houserules that#include taking off shoes in the hall.#conclusion: i just wanna go home#my anxiety will also not let me go out if people don't come with me / ask me / make me go out so yayyyy
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Teacher's Pet
Joel Miller x virgin f!reader
Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help.
Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).
w/c: 7.7k idk what happened
a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm
Part Two
my masterlist
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp.
"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time”
"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.
Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."
You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.
"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."
You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."
You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.
"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."
"You think so?" You ask hopefully.
"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."
Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."
"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pussy, dump his ass."
"That simple, huh?" You scoff.
"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."
"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!
"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."
You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.
"I've watched porn before" you retort.
"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.
"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.
Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.
"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"
You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.
"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"
"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."
"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.
"Alright. Then do."
"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.
Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face.
"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."
You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out.
It's not a bad idea, not necessarily.
You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along famously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies.
It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.
It's an absolutely insane idea.
You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.
"What?" he says, looking back at you.
"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.
"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."
You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.
"I wasn't gonna say anything."
"Well now you're lying."
"I'm not."
"You're doing it again!"
"Doing what?!"
"That face!"
"I'm not making a face!"
"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"
You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself.
"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."
Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.
"A what?"
"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.
"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?”
His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.
"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.
"Is that what you want?"
You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.
"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."
He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.
"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back.
But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.
"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.
"It's okay, come here."
His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.
"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."
You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.
"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."
There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.
"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.
"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."
"Not drunk?”
"Nope."
"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."
"Uh huh."
"And you still want to?"
You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.
"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."
He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—
His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm.
"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"
You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod.
You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.
He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.
It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt.
He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing.
"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.
"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"
"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body.
"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."
His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.
You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.
"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.
"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek.
"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.
"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.”
You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.
"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"
"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."
You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.
"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"
Joel hums as he thinks for a moment.
"What do you want to do?"
You stare at him for a second, blinking.
"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.
"Well, how far do you want to take this?"
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?
Yeah, probably.
"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way”
He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.
"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."
You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.
"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't, I get it, I can just leave and-"
Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."
"I want it.”
He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again.
“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.”
Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.
"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."
"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"
Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.
"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile.
"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.
"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.
"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.
You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.
"I’ll be good. I promise."
"Liar"
"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."
You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.
"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.
His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.
He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.
He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists.
“Can I take this off, baby?”
Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.
Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.
But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.
"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.
"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.
His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt.
"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."
The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing.
He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.
"Can I?" he asks.
"Please."
He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.
His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.
He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.
"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly.
"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"
He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.
"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.
You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.
"Get on the bed, baby."
You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.
He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.
"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."
"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.
"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"
Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.
"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.
He grins, his brow quirking up.
"Look at you, being all bossy"
"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.
His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer.
“I sure do.”
He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can.
"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.
He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.
His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.
You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath.
Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.
"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.
He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.
"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.
"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit.
"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.
"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"
You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him.
"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again
Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.
"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."
"But-"
"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.
You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.
"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.
"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."
You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.
And he's barely touched you.
"How's that feel?"
You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.
He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.
"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.
"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"
You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now.
"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.
"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically.
"I know, honey, I know."
You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.
"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.
"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.
White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge.
You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-
"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.
You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.
He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.
"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.
"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth.
"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.
He grunts and shakes his head.
"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."
You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again.
He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.
"Alright?"
You swallow and nod, licking your lips.
"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"
"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him.
"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"
"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"
"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.
He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.
"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"
He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.
"See what I mean?"
"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"
He hums and nips at your thigh.
"Damn right I do."
You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.
His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.
He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.
The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.
"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"
His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.
He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.
Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.
You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?
You're fucked.
A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.
"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"
He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive.
Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.
He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless.
But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.
You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.
How to please him.
You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans.
You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.
"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.
"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."
Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.
"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"
"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.
He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.
"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"
You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.
"Oh my god, that was terrible."
"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.
"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.
"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.
You gulp and lick your lips.
"Or..."
He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought"
You glare at him and then sigh.
"You're a bully"
"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."
You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick.
"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.
"And proud of it.”
"Pride is a sin."
"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"
You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.
"You're ridiculous"
"You love it"
And that's the thing, isn't it?
Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.
And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.
You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.
"Joel?" you say his name softly.
"Yeah, baby?"
"Teach me."
Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!
#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou fic#joel miller#pedro pascal characters
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so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?
18+ below! smut smut smut!
ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.
it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.
but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?
all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.
it’s a video.
you sent her a video.
she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”
holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.
you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”
and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.
and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.
as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”
ellie. ellie ellie ellie.
“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.
when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.
“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.
when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.
and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.
#okay here u silly little dykes<3 enjoy!#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie williams#ellie williams fanfic#ellie x reader smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie fanfic#ellie tlou2#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x you#ellie x y/n#ellie x reader fic#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams drabble#ellie williams x you#my writing#kira writes
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RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON
pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader
summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?
prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”
you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.
kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.
but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.
you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.
sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.
but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.
you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.
and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.
you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.
beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.
"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.
you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.
you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.
"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."
your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.
he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.
you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.
you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"
your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.
"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.
you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.
you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.
honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.
though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.
he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.
it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.
there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.
yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.
"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.
he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"
you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.
"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.
"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.
you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.
you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.
he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.
you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.
your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.
rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.
he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.
"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.
"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.
"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.
it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.
"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.
a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.
rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.
you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.
you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.
"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.
"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.
"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.
"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.
"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.
rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.
“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#outer banks#obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks
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looking at the last reblog and sighing
#mit speaks#honestly its kind of funny seeing in on tumblr usa-centric sites out of everything#but yup the situation in the world sucks. not news for anybody in the slightest and certainly not news for me#especially considering the state of everythibg else in the country and how it was my whole life#but still. my friend who moved away from here to spain sent me screenshots of some condensed articles#of whats going on with the words What the fuck its so fucked up#while i was looking at this hapoening and people ringing the bells and trying their damndest to protest at least with written forms#it feels like its a logical effect to the everything going on since i didnt actually have any hope anythings gonna get better#but it still stings#its why i am very deeply in the closet irl and am pretty scared to ever come out. especially to my parents#i felt extremely bad and nervous when my friend told me her moms aware of me being kind of trans and that she told her sister too#thats how bad anxiety gets#amd its not like this country is anything close to.. caring about these issues#about 98% of people speaking the language i met online in my very limited social online window were pretty on the whole t-rf ride#so of course theyre gonna celebrate the laws. its not like the amount of people who care and do show themselves is very big compared to#everyone else. its kind of sad#its moreso of a vent guys im alright#love and peace ✌️
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Having an evening where everything is just. Good.
#did i potentially get exposed to covid while on vacation? yes.#am i coping with it by staring out my window at the sunset? yes#but also this is mostly unrelated to that.#i feel pretty alright now. i struggled for a long time with anxiety and depression and it is by no means behind me#but...... now i get to see the small glimmers more and more often#and i am unfortunately for everyone else unable to not wax poetic about it#everything feels like it has a small shimmer to it now. i spent all day driving through corn fields back home.#what a wondeful journey: i got to see part of my home state ive never seen before. see what the small farm towns on state roads look like#get a glimpse of the people there. their lives are so much like mine. feel the connection between us as we pass; never meeting#the sun on the grass. pools of water in the fields from the last storm. the tilled soil. sun glinting off of the grain silos.#laugh a little at a few of the town names.#idk man. it used to bore me that so much of everything is the same#but the fact that i cam see beauty in the world when it used to be just so much gray? unparalleled. im so grateful for it.#a few years ago i would have judged my stepdad for getting solar-powered UFO lawn lights. today seeing it light up made me smile.#and it's so nice#i will not apologize for being overly sentimental in the tags about driving through rural indiana. it's my post lmao i do what i want#but yeah im just. so grateful for the opportunity now to see more of the beauty that i didnt used to be able to see.#it's comforting now. things may get bad. but there will still be tiny violets growing around that one guy's mailbox along state road 24.#one day i will see something like that again. i got to see it today too. and I'll savor it
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the physical - miguel o’hara
pairings ❀ ⋮ doctor!miguel x shyf!reader
₊❏❜ content ⋮ dubcon/cnc, d/s dynamics // doctor taking advantage of their patient, nipple play & nipple stimulation, blue balls, soft dom, sweet tempered mig, vag fingering, squirting, ehh aftercare ?? porn with a taboo subject. slight dirty talk, nicknames, n somewhat begging.
note ⋮ sorta got lazy w this lmfao, this is one of so many drafts i have lingering around in my pile.
not proofread !
✧*･ﾟ
there you were, anxiously fidgeting around with your fingers. waiting patiently to be called on.. and you mean very patient.
what?
you wanted them to take their time so you wouldn’t have to walk into the examination room. this was going to be your first physical and you were really nervous. and it showed when the heel of your foot intensely bounced rhythmically off the floor.
“y/n” the nurse called out as your anxiety heightened. you smiled awkwardly standing up, lowering your head as you walked past the other patients and into a small room.
“i’ll just take your blood pressure real quick~” the nurse hummed, grabbing the small machine and undoing the velcro as she wrapped it around the fat of your arm.
with a faint click the cuff began to tighten, cutting off your blood flow for a moment. your arm became numb and tingly as you a felt short pulse on it — and with a whoosh, the cuff finally released you.
“excellent! now just change into this robe — make sure to be completely naked under it, and the doctor should be in pretty soon.” the nurse said. “you look nervous is it your first time?” the nurse asked.
“yeahh..”
“don’t worry he won’t bite.” the lady playfully rolled her eyes, flashing you a reassuring smile as she elbowed you.
“he?” you blurted out, eyes widening.
“i know it may seem weird, but he’s a gentlemen.” the lady added, seeing your expression she tried consoling it.
but that only caused you to worry more.
“it’ll go well don’t worry!” she said, heading out her way she waved at you and wished you good luck.
you stood there processing the whole thing and imagining all the possibilities of embarrassment you’re going to have to go through. you slowly exhaled. “oh my gosh, fuck me for coming here.” you whined to yourself as you moved on to removing your layers of clothing - you took your shirt off and unclasped your bra, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding it down your thighs along with your panties. you then reached for the robe and wrapped it around your naked body. you folded your clothes neatly into a stack as you placed it on a small desk besides you.
you then sat atop the table, waiting patiently.
just then a audible knock fulfilled your ears as your head perked up to meet eyes with a males.
your heart stopped beating for a second.
oh shit.
this guy was so fine he could literally be on a magazine cover.
you couldn’t help but wonder if this man was single or if he had a very lucky girlfriend.
“how’s your morning going, love?” the man asked, casually calling you a nickname that made you stop in your tracks and turn red.
“good.”
you began pinching yourself as you slightly pouted. ‘fuck fuck fuck’
“did you eat any breakfast?” he asked, giving the hint of wanting to start a conversation.
“nothing, really.” you lied, faking a smile. “me too, i was in a rush so i just decided to chew on some gum for the moment.” he grinned, clicking his pen as he picked up your files, tapping it on his desk tidying up all those loose sheets of paper into a neat stack.
“oh.”
what a plain response.
“well then, let’s begin shall we?” he proposed with a smile as you nodded.
“alright—first and foremost, i’m going to listen to your heartbeat.“ he said, stepping closer to you as he gently pushed down the robe and pressed the stethoscope to the center of your chest.
“breathe in~”
you inhaled and held your breath, all while his eyes ogled yours.
“breathe out~”
“again, breathe in..”
“and breathe out~”
“are you nervous?” he asked, raising a brow.
‘kill me’
“..no”
“really?”
“..yes”
“honey, you’re a very bad liar.” he chuckled as you felt yourself heat up.
“take a deep breath.” he smiled. “your heart rate is a little rapid, which may be due to your adrenaline rush — but it’s totally normal since most find it awkward being around the opposite sex during this exam.” he reassured, “it’s nothing new dear.”
“right.” you awkwardly laughed, nodding your head in agreement as you looked away.
“i get if you may feel weird, i’ll try my best to make you feel welcomed.” he smiled.
“thank you, i appreciate it.”
and you really did appreciated it. you knew what he was trying to do. you’ve been observing it — and this proved your point. he was trying to make you comfortable in the short amount of time you two had together.
“well, i’m now going to move on to examine your hair and mouth.” he chimed, slipping on some blue gloves as the rubber snapped to each of his wrists.
his fingers cordially ran through your luscious hair, mindfully massaging small circles on each of your temples. “que bella.” he commented, making you smile, “thank you.”
he then moved on to cup your face conscientiously, gently tilting your head to the side as he brushed your hair behind your ear. he couldn’t help but scrutinize your unique features.
“you’re really pretty.” he added, making your smile widen even more. “thank you,” you replied, “i’d say the same about you.” you wanted to return the compliment but the words slipped out of your mouth, giving him the idea you found him attractive.
“really? i’m quite old so it’s nice to know the good looks still haven’t wore off yet.” he laughed.
“oh, how old are you?” you asked curiously perking your head to the side.
“how old do i look? be brutally honest, no offense taken.”
you squinted your eyes, now it was your turn to examine his features.
his dark hair was neatly slicked back, no grey hair to hint his age nor any visible wrinkles—rather his bronzed skin looked flawless, and his lips weren’t even chapped. neither did they look cracked or dry, they looked soft, plump and rich. his outfit was nicely chosen and put together. he looked formal and neat..and hot. he stood around six foot with an attractive physique.
“twenty seven?” you guessed wildly, “wow that really boosts my ego, i’m in my early thirties.” he chuckled, flashing you a smile that made your heart throb.
there’s no way he could’ve been older than thirty. “you’re being for real?” you snorted before you abrupt into a contagious laughter.
“no like actually, i am. but thank you love, that definitely made my day.” he thanked with a tender warm smile that made your heart clench and swing your legs like a teenage girl in love.
“okay, cariño. let’s check your mouth now, yea? ahh — ” he demonstrated sticking out his tongue as he pointed to his mouth.
“aaahh.”
“good girl.”
his thumb pressed on your chin, adjusting his glasses to further inspect you as his eyes squinted.
god he was so close to you, his warm breath smelled like the mint flavored gum he was chewing on ~ and oh his cologne. it smelled so good, and so manly it had you swooning.
he carefully placed a popsicle stick on the flat of your tongue, slightly pushing it down and past your throat making you gag.
“that remind you of anything?” he grinned, raising a brow and he couldn’t help but smirk at your confused expression.
“wh-hat?” you choked out, curling your hand into a fist as you hit your chest in attempts to calm down your choke.
“nothing dear,” he cleared his throat with a smug smile, continuing to chew on his gum as if nothing happened.
you didn’t get it.
he finished writing something on his notepad as he clicked his pen, satisfied.
“mkay i’m going to ask you a few simple questions..” he went on, “first question, how often do you exercise?”
“two to four times a week.”
“excellent. are you feeling any abnormal pain or discomfort, if so where do you feel the pain or discomfort?”
“no, and no where.”
“any use of drugs, alcohol anything particularly?”
“nope.”
“are you sexually active?”
“..no..”
“are you practicing safe sex?”
you looked up at him, “..no?”
that sounded as if you were questioning yourself.
“when was the last time you’ve been penetrated?”
you fell silent..hoping he’d get the message. but he didn’t seem to read your expression like you anticipated to.
“i’m a virgin.”
“oh..”
“okay.” he raised his brows trying to not give you the impression he was surprised by your answer. like look at you, you looked so gorgeous sitting there all flustered.
he glanced down adjusting his glasses again as he scribbled something down on his note pad before turning back to you.
“just need you to lay down for me and put your feet on the stirrups.” he smiled as you followed the given instructions, leaning backwards until your back hit the cold leather as he helped you put your feet in and onto the stirrups, lacing them secure.
“scoot closer,”
you propped your elbows on the table, scooting your bum closer.
“more..”
you scooted further, just inches away from his pelvis, yet that still wasn’t enough - “just a little more..”
gosh. how close did he want you to be? you scooted just a teeny tiny bit more.
he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to his likings, your pelvises were so close it was centimeters away from one another’s. but to make matters worse he decided to close the gap — your groin making contact with his as your breath hitched in your throat.
your robe rose up, feeling his bulge brush against your pantie-less cunt as he took a step back. he definitely felt that. clearing his throat, he looked away pretending he didn’t see anything.
you pulled your robe down in embarrassment, blood rushing to your cheeks.
“my bad,” he coughed, “just wanted to make sure you were close enough.” he reasoned.
“anyways, i need to examine your breasts so if you mind..” he expressed, signaling you to pull your robe down from the shoulders.
you took a deep breath, breaking eye contact you slowly started to undo the knot but were too embarrassed to completely pull it off your breasts — so he did it for you.
his ginormous hand skimmed past your breast before taking a handful in his palm, fondling and squishing it as if it were some stress toy.
he continued to chew on the gum expressionless whilst thumbing your sensitive nipple making you bite your lip. with his pointer finger and thumb he rolled the bud in between the pads of his fingers before slightly tugging at it.
you let out a gasp, and he raised a brow.
oh, weren’t you sensitive?
he decided to tease you more.. twisting the bead in his finger pads and tugging at it again.. and again and again. you didn’t notice you were squirming the whole time, your brows were knitted together and you didn’t even realize you were letting out soft moans. once you finally had the confidence to meet his stare he tugged on your poor nipple harder causing you to let out a loud whimper that made you bite your tongue. and before letting go, he decided to give you one last harsh squeeze.
by the end of his little examination he knew he had left you hot and bothered.
he wanted to continue toying with you, those cute little sounds you were making made his dick twitch in his pants.
“all normal and healthy.” he muttered lowly, eyes darkening with a hidden arousal.
opening a drawer he reached for a weird looking contraption as he dug further, pulling out a small liquidy tube.
“i’m now going to need a quick sample of your mucus, it’s to test for any infections.” he explained, “f-y-i it’s gonna hurt, but don’t worry i’ll make it as quick as possible.” he added, “by the way this is a speculum and it’ll y’know go inside—you get the idea.“
you nodded awkwardly as he stepped forward yet again. “may i?”
you nodded slightly embarrassed as you gave him consent, he slowly pushed your robe, displaying your bare cunt.
his thumb swiped against your naked mound, uncapping the bottle you felt a cold liquid pour onto your warmth, making you gasp. your lower body writhed, bucking at the feeling.
“sorry i should’ve warmed it up for you darling.” he cooed, his snug palm rested on your pubic bone to warm it up, lathering the lubricant all over you. and when you were ready he slowly slid the speculum inside, opening the blades you let out a strained groan. it revealed your insides and the back of your cervix.
bloody hell did it sting — the cool breeze was a weird sensation. but boy have you never felt so exposed before. a small cotton swab gently swiped on the inside of your inner wall causing you to let out another painful hiss.
“all done” he murmured, putting the cotton swab into a small ziploc bag and into a envelope. closing the contraption and slowly pulling it out of you, you let out a sigh of relief. “feelin’ okay?” he asked, caressing your arm.
“i-i’m fine” you sighed shakily.
“if you say so” he smiled, checking off something in his notepad before beginning once again, “last but not least i’ll be checking for any tenderness, growths and any tumors inside you. so while i’m at it try to think of something hot and exciting — being naturally turned on helps with getting better results.” he suggested, making some shit up.
you blinked, “..i don’t know what to think about though”
“think about me fucking you or something” he scoffed, blurting out something so taboo it made you blush.
“w-what?”
“i’m kidding” he laughed, “i mean.. unless you’re actually into that type of stuff” he cleared his throat, searching for any visible reaction on your face from the corner of his eye.
“n-no, no not at all — that’s wrong, very wrong.” you reasoned, trying to prove your innocence. “you’re nervous” he pointed out. “am not!”
“oh really? your body language is telling me a whole different story” he smiled, “no need to be ashamed about your fantasies”
“i-i’m not ashamed!” you snapped back,“so sensitive..” he chuckled, as you realized your back felt hot and all sweaty.
oh boy did he know how to rile you up.
‘he was only playing.’ you reminded yourself, slowly exhaling.
“let’s get started shall we?” he voiced teasingly - his hand trailed down your abdomen as his finger pads ghosted over your soft skin sensually hovering over your entrance. his touch sent butterflies to abrupt in your tummy, and that’s when you shut your lids tight feeling his digits slip past your folds ever so smoothly. like a dip in warm honey, a slight whimper escaped your lips from the ecstatic feeling.
his thumb crept up to add pressure to your clit, experimentally toying with you. but he wasted no time in setting a steady pace as his experienced fingers lewdly slid in and out of you. you moaned softly, aroused with the excitement exploding through your body.
he began searching for anything abnormal - but of course he put more effort into finding your gspot.
you couldn’t help but yelp once his finger tips curled upwards.
bingo.
it didn’t take him to long to find that sweet gummy spot he’d been looking for as he was already familiar with the female anatomy. your thighs twitched and clamped around his hand as he purposely began to brush up against your sweet spot — aiming his fingertips against that certain nerve making you moan loudly.
he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
your mouth hung open, your eyes searched for his as they twinkled with lust. “feels good doesn’t it?” he asked, breaking through your pleasure. “fuck please” you breathed out.
“hm please what mami?” he praised as his fingers continued their assault on your sobbing cunt, fucking into you in all the right places.
you curiously looked downwards as the visual stimulation sent pleasurable shocks throughout your body.
his other hand came to slap your clit making you jump,
“answer me.”
you opened your mouth but the only thing that came out was a whine.
“i know you aren’t that fucked out, answer me nena.”
“please wanna cum —!” you whined pathetically, shutting your eyes harshly.
that’s when you felt your orgasm approaching, your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist in attempts to stop him before you shattered into pieces.
“is that so baby? wanna cum on your doctors fingers hm?” he teased with that cocky grin of his. the thought of your doctor fingering you so lewdly made your pussy throb.
an intense sensation formed in the pit of your stomach as it slowly began unraveling, but before you could even hit that euphoric bliss he slipped his fingers out with a smug grin, a groan tearing from you throat.
he tore off the blue latex gloves in one swift movement, his fingers teased your slit, obscenely spreading them out as he spat at your clit, the saliva running down and coating your contrasting hole before slipping his ring and middle finger back into your glistening cunt.
the new sensation of his textured finger pads caused a shiver to run down your spine. the feeling of the warm texture rubbing on your bare velvety walls felt so good it had you bucking into his palm.
“such a fucking tight pussy” he growled, his thumb roughly rubbing circles on your sensitive pearl. colorful pigmented dots formed in your eyesight like a static tv before your eyes began rolling back.
you moaned loudly, his fingers skillfully fucking you roughly as your back arched off the leather seat. your pussy clenched around his fingers as he bumped into your gspot again, n again, n again.
and before you knew it you were a whining mess, squirting everywhere and ruining his clothes.
it atleast took you a minute or two to recover, and when you snapped back into reality you found your doctor calmly cleaning you up.
“oh my—“
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone come as hard just from fingering.” he chuckled, “what a show baby, you were so responsive.”
“you’re all healthy dear, come back in a year or so — that was just the beginning.”
part two.
#feistyfreaks#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara spiderverse#kinktober#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel fanfiction
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Looks at pictures of blood draw technique to work up nerve. Gets nauseous. Ohhhh somethin to keep in mind while I’m THERE I GUESS.
#me.#therapy.#(not til Friday but I already wanna cry from anxiety#blood ment/#(gonna take eXTRA anxiety meds. but also.#(I did manage to calm down a LITTLE BIT while looking at the photos at least#(visualization the next key to my preparation bhhhhhnnnnngghhhhhfhfhfh#(the other coping technique is; remembering when it’s done it’s done and then it’s done and I don’t have to keep doing it that day at least#(heavy breathing#(I just hope it goes alright. it’ll color my future perceptions of getting this kind of work done.
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