Dude What The Fuck? I'm Not Even Into Pedro Pascal But This Was So Hot??! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME????

dude what the fuck? i'm not even into Pedro Pascal but this was so hot??! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME???? Fuck...

𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict

(gif originally by @joelmjller tumblr absolutely refused to show it in gif search)

You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.

“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”

You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.

It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.

“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”

“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”

“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.

“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”

He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.

“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.

“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.

“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."

He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."

"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"

"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.

"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"

That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"

"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"

Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.

"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."

"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."

He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.

A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.

Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.

"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.

"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.

But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?

Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.

He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—

Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to mean forward.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."

Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.

Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…

You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.

Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"

You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.

"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.

You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.

It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.

For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.

"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"

It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.

He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."

Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.

That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.

That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.

You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.

He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.

When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.

"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"

When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.

After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.

He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.

"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."

He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"

He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.

"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.

With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.

"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"

Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.

"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"

You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."

You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.

"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"

You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.

"No? You're a good girl?"

You nodded, moaning around him.

"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"

You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.

"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"

"No," you answered.

"No sir," he corrected.

"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.

"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"

You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.

"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."

You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.

"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"

As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…

"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.

It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.

"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.

"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."

With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"

He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"

He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.

He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.

"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."

You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…

"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.

"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.

"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"

He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.

"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"

"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."

"Who feels good?"

"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.

"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"

Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"

"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.

"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.

"Yes!"

"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."

He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck

"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.

He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.

"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."

He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.

Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?

"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.

"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"

"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.

"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.

When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.

"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.

"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"

He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.

"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."

"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.

Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"

He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.

"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.

You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.

He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.

"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"

"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."

Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.

"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"

"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.

"Do you want me to?"

After hesitating, you shook your head.

"No?" he pressed.

"No," you admitted in a pout.

"Ask me not to," he ordered.

"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.

"What's that? You don't want it?"

"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.

"So I can't?"

You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."

You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.

"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."

"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.

"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."

"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"

He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?

'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.

"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.

At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.

"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."

"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"

"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"

"Come, whore."

He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.

His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.

"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."

When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"

"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.

His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.

"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"

You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."

"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"

He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.

"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"

You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"

He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."

You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.

"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"

You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.

"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"

Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought…"

hiyaaa can we get more Tom Bennet fics? 🥺 Any plot will do… just more Tom Bennet smut ;;

And more Aemond fics as well if that isn’t too much to ask 🫣😮‍💨

Love your works!! Keep up the good work :)))

I'm attempting to work on a Tom Bennett smutty fic right now😊. It's gonna be a sort of modern special agent/undercover spy type AU, and i'm really excited about it! But it's gonna take a looooooong time to research and finish cause...well, everything going on in my life right now lmao. Mostly school, i'm taking a history class and it's so fuckin boring, but i'm trying to take it seriously and it is taking up ALL of my time. But I will finish it...someday eventually, if my brain doesn't explode😅

Please write more for Osferth! Your last fic was amazing!!!

Aw, thank you so much, I really appreciate that!!!💕 and don't worry, I have a couple ideas I'm trying to figure out how to write at the moment.

I've realized, for me, soft boys™ are hard to work with more than others for some reason😂 Words don't word properly with sweethearts

𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - Steven Grant

this has been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally got the motivation to finish it lmao. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate! Gobble gobble bitches🦃

Warnings: mentions of The Blip, implied PTSD, a slight sprinkle of angst, and fluff. that's it, I think

word count | 4.3K🤙🏻

You never took the bus. In all your years of living in London, you had only ridden the bus a handful of times. You usually ride your bike most places, especially to work. Eco friendly, your friend called it, not that you really cared. But it just so happens, that your bike was stolen. So, your hand was forced.

You worked at a bookstore, and you liked it well enough. After being Blipped for five years, your parents decided to give you their store, they were getting old and couldn’t take care of it as much as they could before; plus, they thought it would make you happy and get your mind off being dusted out of existence for so long. And it did, to a certain extent. You were happy surrounded by books, but all the years you missed out on was still nagging at the back of your mind. Your therapist said it would get better with time. But other than the feeling that something horrific could happen at any given moment constantly plaguing your mind, you were content with life; but there was one thing still missing.

You weren’t the best at dating, never had been. Every time you thought you found “the one” or just a genuinely good person, they’d come with a serious hamartia that they were hiding, one that you usually would find out a good couple months into a relationship. But then again, you were also very picky as your parents would say, but you just had standards. You’d think living in such a big city would give you a few good options at least. But alas, you were probably doomed to live the rest of your life in solitude.

You didn’t really notice at first, often stuck in your own little world, but you finally realized that you saw the same man on your bus almost every day on your way to work. It wasn’t that big of a deal, if only he wasn’t so handsome. You never considered yourself to be much of a shallow person, knowing that personality is what really counts, but you couldn’t help yourself to gawk when this man wasn’t looking. Maybe it was his shy and disheveled demeanor that intrigued you, or maybe it was that you were being so utterly vain that his strong jawline and dark brown eyes awakened some primal force within you that drew you to him. But considering how horrid you are at making the first move, you’d never know.

Your silly little crush didn’t go away. It didn’t help that your bookstore was right across the street from the museum he worked at. You felt like a stalker, knowing where he worked and eventually learning his name when he forgot to take his name tag off one night. Steven. It suited him. You thought about visiting the museum once, but that would definitely be stalkerish behavior, but anyone was allowed into museums, right? It wouldn’t be weird if he were to visit your bookshop. Then again, if some dude were staring at you every time you got onto the bus and suddenly paid a visit, you would probably call 999. 

Yeah, you decided against it.

It wasn’t until one early morning that forced you to confront this crush. Steven entered the bus with dark circles under his eyes, more pronounced than usual. He looked like he could’ve fallen over any given moment, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. You tried not to tense up when he took a seat next to you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You prayed you could act like a normal human being until the bus ride was over. But then, almost half way to work, he did something you never would’ve expected. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

Your eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. It only took a couple seconds to realize that he didn’t do it on purpose, poor thing fell asleep and his head naturally lolled to the side, where your shoulder just so happened to be. You had no idea what to do. Do you wake him up? He’s just a stranger, this is weird and he definitely should not be doing this. But he looked so peaceful, and he did look like he had gotten absolutely no sleep. But would he think it would be weird if he knew you just let him sleep on you? You hoped no one else could see how panicked you looked.

You felt your face heat up as you ultimately decided to let the exhausted man remain situated against your shoulder, the bus ride was almost over anyway. You felt your nails dig into your palms, trying to focus on anything but the warm feeling that radiated throughout your body. As the bus rolled to a stop, you gently nudged the sleeping man until he sat straight up with wide eyes, clearly disoriented. He looked at you in confusion before uttering a quick apology before he made his quick escape from the awkward situation. You didn’t blame him, but you did feel a little embarrassed yourself, even though you probably had no reason to be.

You thought about that bus ride all day, your brain fogged over and distracted from your work, the bells that sounded off any time someone would enter the store being the only reality check that would snap you back from your racing mind. A part of you just wanted to buy another bike, never take the bus ever again, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford it, not now at least. Maybe you could just walk all the miles back to your flat…in the dark…without the proper means to protect yourself…yeah, awkward situations were more appealing than the threat of getting jumped in an alleyway.

You hoped Steven wouldn’t be on the nightly bus ride home like he usually was, only occasionally he would work late, but that just wasn’t in the works for you. How lucky. Apparently it was a busy night, people coming and going, it was a Friday to be fair. But there were no empty seats as he boarded the bus, being the last person, only one was empty, one next to you. You felt like a regular old Mary Sue. And you could tell by his expression that he was panicked, clearly not forgetting what happened that morning.

You wore a tight lipped smile as he walked towards you, the bus suddenly moving jolting him a bit forwards with a stumble, but he quickly tried to brush it off with suave. “Uh, is this seat taken?” The man asked timidly, his hand slightly shaking as he pointed to the spot next to you.

Obviously not. “No, go ahead.” You smiled, more genuinely that time, feeling that familiar heat rise up to your face as he settled next to you.

“Cheers.” He nervously smiled back, hugging his satchel close to his chest.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed his eyes already started to droop shut, the man wearing exhaustion like it was second nature. It also made you a little sad. “Hope you get some sleep tonight, maybe you won’t fall asleep on me again in the morning.” You chuckled, not being able to resist teasing him slightly.

“Oh, goodness.” The man cringed at himself, turning to face you with a guilty expression. “I’m so sorry about that, miss. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay!” You cut him off with a giggle. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’m not a morning person either. Sorry if me not waking you up right away was weird, I just didn’t have the heart to when you looked so tired.” If you weren’t blushing already, you most certainly were now.

“Ah, it’s not weird. I appreciate it actually. Your shoulder was very comfortable.”

“Jeez, how awful is your bed if you think this boney shoulder is anywhere close to being comfortable?” You laughed softly, a shy smile stretching across his face. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Thought you should know considering I already know yours.” You gently flicked the name tag that was still pinned to his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Steven.”

The next morning you were greeted with Steven’s smiling face, that nervousness behind it making it more endearing. You didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, feeling more confident now that you’ve actually had a conversation with the man. So far, he seemed sweet, shy but sweet. He definitely seemed worth your interest, you wanted to get to know him. Hopefully he felt the same.

“A gift shop-ist? I don’t think that’s a word.” You chuckled. “Why not just a salesperson?”

Steven shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that much more appealing, now, does it? Well, what do you do? Where do you work?”

“I own the bookstore right across the street from the museum. So, I guess that makes me a bookstore-ist.” You giggled at your own joke, Steven letting out a small amused snort making you feel better about it.

“Oh, a bookworm, are you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always liked reading. The store was my parents, but they passed the baton over to me. I like it.”

“Huh, I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

“And I’ll have to check out the museum. Don’t know much about Egyptian history, but maybe you’ll be my tour guide?”

“If my boss doesn’t get on my arse about it. Well, eh, it doesn't matter. I’ll be happy to take time out of my super busy schedule to teach you all about all the pharaohs and gods and anything else that won’t bore you to death.” He grinned.

“Well, with you teaching me I’m sure I’ll never get bored.” You were thankful the bus finally arrived, the somewhat intense eye contact the two of you shared was getting a bit much for you to handle. “Well, see you later!” You waved as you started to walk to your workplace, Steven replying with a cute little “laters gators.”

It didn’t take too long before you and Steven got close, well, you thought so anyway. The two of you would always sit or stand next to each other on the bus each morning and night. Sometimes, you’d even visit each other’s place of work. You learned each other’s coffee orders, so you’d sometimes surprise each other with coffee. The first time you did it, Steven wore the cutest flustered expression on his face. So far, you two were friendly. Just friendly. You knew you wanted more, you just didn’t know if he felt the same, or even how to bring it up. You’d been out of the game for so long you didn’t even think you remembered how to kiss a person. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself or get rejected, you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Talking to your sibling about it, they just told you to get over the stupid fear and just ask the man out. Of course, it was easy for them to say, they were more outgoing and fearless. For once, you wish you could’ve turned off your introvertedness and anxiety. You got good vibes from Steven, he seemed perfect. Too perfect. And your track record showed that perfect meant they were less than perfect. You were a bit of a pessimist, you hated that about yourself, but it’s probably what had saved you from one too many toxic relationships. On the surface, Steven looked like he’d never even hurt a fly. You wondered what was underneath that timid exterior. But maybe there wasn’t, only time would tell.

It was a cold dreary morning when your feelings started to spiral out of control. You seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, feeling sour for no particular reason. Just one of those days, you supposed. You had trouble hiding your mood on your face, Steven seemed to notice it immediately as soon as you boarded the bus. He had asked you what was the matter, but you just brushed him off by saying the weather dampened your spirit. Later, he had brought you a hot cup of coffee on his break, saying that days like these needed some warmth, which in turn made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You encouraged him to look around, knowing that he enjoyed reading as well. It was hard to concentrate on working when he was walking about with an awestruck expression, gently running his fingers over the spines of the various books that lined the shelves. “Do you have any books about Egypt?” Steven called out from across the room.

“Yeah, some. On aisle 6, along with other history books.” You pointed out, smiling to yourself as Steven walked to the designated aisle with a skip in his step. He asked about a specific author, wondering if their new book was in stock, clearly anxious to read it. “No, sorry.” You frowned sympathetically after looking it up in inventory. “I can see if it’s available somewhere else?”

Steven shook his head. “That’s alright. Wouldn’t expect it to be anywhere, the author isn't very well known and there's probably not many copies out there. But thanks for looking.”

And that’s when you got the idea. You weren’t good with words, but you loved buying people gifts. When the holidays rolled around, you were an expert at gift giving, you pride yourself on it. Maybe you could express your feelings by buying him this book he wanted so much. It was a bit pricey, being scarce and all, but you could afford it and you wanted to see the smile on Steven’s face, if just for a moment. Before you could think about it any longer, you clicked the purchase button.

And oh man, was it a long anxious wait for the book to arrive. You had to order it from a different country, so obviously it was going to take a while. But you were impatient, and you counted the seconds until you heard the sweet shrill sound of your doorbell ringing, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you opened the door to find the package exactly where you expected to find it. You hoped Steven would be as happy as you were, and you didn’t even want the book for yourself.

You were disappointed when you didn’t see Steven on the bus the next morning. He probably just slept in again. You were so anxious to give the book to him, but then you didn’t see him all day, which was unusual. He usually paid you a visit at least once on his break. Then another day went by…then another. A whole week passed and you started to get worried. He wouldn’t answer your texts or calls, you even went to his work to ask for him but he hadn’t been in. You never pegged him as someone who would just up and disappear. But then again, how could you know that? You were practically just coffee buddies. Guess you got the book for nothing…

It was another week before Steven started showing up again, but you made a point not to even make eye contact with him, not even when he greeted you warmly as he sat next to you like nothing ever happened. From the corner of your eye, you could see his downcast and confused expression and you almost took pity on him. Almost. You probably should’ve seen it coming, there was always some fatal flaw about most people, your blinding crush on Steven made you forget. It was probably for the best, you only would’ve gotten hurt. Terrible timing though, you were at a point where you really needed a friend to talk to.

That constant feeling that something bad was going to happen at any given moment was proved correct. Thankfully, it wasn’t half the universe getting blipped out of existence, but it was almost just as mysterious and frightening. One night, the sky completely changed. It looked like a Van Goph painting, but instead of it making you feel a sense of peace and comfort like viewing the painting normally did, it terrified you. Seeing the sky warp out of focus, it brought on some severe panic attacks. What did this mean? What was happening and what consequences would it have on the world? It plagued your mind. But even after getting Blipped, you never really talked about it with anyone, not even your family. You just kept all these feelings bottled inside, not wanting to burden anyone with your problems. With every new supernatural phenomena, you felt all these feelings begging to come to the surface. You couldn’t have that, you had responsibilities. But with Steven...he seemed like the type of person that you could actually talk to, if it weren’t for him ghosting you. You’d just have to keep it all inside a bit longer.

Stepping off the bus without a word to Steven made you feel hollow, cold without the coffee he usually would bring you as you both make jokes and bitched about the morning weather typically being foggy and/or rainy. It was one of those mornings, and it just made you feel worse. It was also a slow day, barely anyone coming into your store which was unusual, especially on a rainy day. You felt sluggish, not interacting with anyone made you feel like a lifeless zombie. You just wanted a customer, just one. But as soon as Steven walked in, you immediately regretted that sentiment.

You could instantly sense Steven’s nervousness as he walked up to your counter, hands fidgeting with one another and keeping his gaze fixed anywhere but you. “Hiya.” He spoke softly, an unconvincing smile on his lips.

“How can I help you today, sir?” Your bluntness made him blink in shock, obviously not expecting you to be so cold. You were being petty and you hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was an annoying habit to be passive aggressive, and seeing the deepening frown on Steven’s face just made you feel worse.

He sighed. “Look, I-” He stuttered, “I know you’re probably wondering why I disappeared. And I know you might be upset-”

“Might?” You scoffed, biting your lip, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you. “We talked every day, Steven. And then all of a sudden, you’re gone. Without a word or reason why. So, yeah, sorry if I can’t help being a bit upset.” You chuckled bitterly, sighing sadly when you saw him shrinking away from your words. “And…I was worried. I thought that, I guess that I’d never see you again.”

“You were really worried? About me?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re, like, my only friend.” You blushed.

“Oh, wow, really?” He chuckled in disbelief.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…man, you could do so much better than me. I’m just this ball of anxiety. I don’t know how being friends with someone like me could be very nice.”

You frowned, saddened by his lack of self confidence. “Come on, Steven. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But you did seriously worry me. Where did you go? What even happened?” Steven looked up at you with wide eyes, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket. He looked like he was having a conversation with himself, his gaze becoming blank and unfocused, then looking back at you like he had forgotten you were even standing there. It didn’t make you hopeful that you were going to get an answer, and the realization made you deflate with a sigh. “You’re not gonna tell me.” You stated.

Steven gave you a sympathetic frown, his eyes already pleading for forgiveness without having to say anything. “I would, truly, I would. But I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s…complicated.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore your throat tightening and your already stinging eyes. You wore a tight lipped smile, taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze once more. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You chuckled bitterly, quietly excusing yourself to the bathroom before Steven had a chance to say anything else.

You hated crying, for any reason; and you especially didn’t like crying because of someone else, it wasn’t worth it. But you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as soon as you closed and locked the door to the store’s bathroom. You covered your mouth to muffle the inevitably whimpers and squeaks that escaped your lips. You prayed that Steven couldn’t hear you, if he was even still in the store. Probably not, you felt like you must’ve scared him off. But to your surprise, you froze in place when you saw him still at your register. You quickly noticed the item in his hands and your heart felt like it was going to implode.

Neatly wrapped in Egyptian themed wrapping paper, a sandy white texture decorated with gold hieroglyphics with a simple post-it note on top that read ‘Steven’, the book that you went through hell to get for the man but never ended up giving to him. A desperate attempt to get him to realize your growing feelings for him. The gesture felt silly now, you certainly felt silly as Steven looked at you expectantly. “Sorry, it’s just…it had my name on it.” He explained with a slight stutter. You cursed yourself for not just leaving it at home where it would be safe from prying eyes. Maybe you should’ve chosen a more subtle paper so that it wouldn’t stand out as much as the gold. “I didn’t want to open it without your permission.” Ever the gentleman, huh?

Despite not being in the friendliest mood and still recovering from your quick cry in the bathroom, you shrugged and motioned for him to go ahead and open it. If only he hadn’t found it, then you could’ve just given it away or something and never have to think about it again. That would’ve been easier.

You waited with bated breath as Steven gently unwrapped the gift, careful not to tear the paper too much, as if it cost more than seven pounds. You almost didn’t want to look at him as the actual book started to peek through, the title flashing in white bold font smack dab in the center of the cover. It was only when the wrapping paper was completely off did you steal a glance at Steven’s face.

Your heart pounded as Steven's face immediately lit up with pure happiness, a wide grin spreading across his face and his bright eyes glancing back and forth between you and the book. "It's the book I wanted..." He said in disbelief. "You...bought this for me?" He stuttered.

You shrugged. "Yeah, who else would it be for? There's no one else I know obsessed with Egyptian history."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

There was a deafening silence for a moment where Steven just looked at you with an expression you could only describe as awe, like you just hung the moon and stars and how lucky he must've been to be in your presence. But of course, your insecurities told you that wasn't the case, it would never be that case.

"Thank you..." He whispered, so softly you had to strain to hear it. "This means a lot to me, really. I'll pay you back."

"No." You said immediately. "No, Steven. It was a gift. I didn't get this for you and expected anything in return."

Steven sighed, placing the book down gently on the counter, taking a step closer to you. "Look, I-...I'm not good at not being my awkward self, especially in front of such a beautiful person. I never wanted you to be angry with me. I have a lot of secrets, and I know that doesn't sound like the type of person you'd want to spend your time with. But if you let me...I'd love to take you out. And maybe we could get close enough where I can tell you all those secrets. But I understand if you never wanna talk to me again..."

You were blushing fiercely, your cheeks heating up you could practically feel your blood boiling just beneath your skin. You never expected Steven to be so bold, even though it didn't exactly sound that bold with his stuttering and slight waver in his voice. But it flustered you all the same. You rarely ever met someone and wanted to know all their secrets, but he made it sound so alluring. Tantalizing, like learning more and more about him was some incredible journey you had the opportunity to venture on. Him disappearing for a while and not telling you why was one thing, but you could sense another red flag in that speech of his somewhere. But the way he was looking at you, his pleading eyes, those big brown enchanting eyes that you wanted to get lost in. You didn't have the heart to say anything but yes.

"You really want to go out with me?" You voiced almost breathlessly.

Steven smiled wide. "Of course I do, darling. Since the first time we had a conversation, you made me feel like I could have something in my life other than chaos. You made...you make me feel at peace."

You chuckled bashfully, practically putty in his hands already. "How chaotic could the life of a gift shop-ist be?"

"Go out on a date with me and I'll tell you. What do you say?"

"Yes." You smiled. "I say yes."

jeez, finally took a break from posting only smut lmao. i miss steven, my baby boy🥺

fuckin' obsessed

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part two)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) here

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || these video calls have become the new normal for the two of you, but it might be time to take the next step.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.2k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; video call sex, dirty talk, use of sex toys, and a touch of breeding kink), sex work (again, kind of inherent to the whole thing), basically porn without plot but with feeeeelinggsssss 💕

(this week's challenge for @the-slumberparty was to write a follow up to something I wrote previously, figured there was an obvious solution to that prompt!)

“Did you get what I asked you to?” you asked with a coy smile.

“Yeah, it’s right here…”

He held up the fleshlight in front of the camera's view, strategically angled down to his chest and lap so he could keep his face hidden, and couldn't help but notice that mischievous sparkle in your eye.  “Have you tried it yet?”

“No, I figured I’d wait to see what you wanted me to do with it,” he replied, and you laughed.

“Well, there’s really only one thing you can do with it, sweetie,” you purred— why did that little pet name turn him on so much?  “I want you to fuck it.  I wanna watch you fuck it.”

"Okay," he breathed, "sounds… interesting."

"I'd like to see your face— you know, see you really react to how it feels— but I know you said you don't want to yet…"

It already gave him a little anxiety that you were seeing his body, if covered up by the t-shirt and boxers, but you at least acted like you were enjoying what you saw so far.  "Will you settle for seeing how hard I am instead?" he asked, and you licked your lips.

"Seems like a fair trade," you giggled.

He reached into his boxers, but saw that the view of the webcam cut him off— so he slowly tilted his laptop down, letting the camera pan to his hand around his leaking cock.

“Oh— fuck, that’s really you?” you choked.

“Yeah,” he answered, not sure if that was the right or wrong answer but knowing it was at least the true one.

“Hold up… three fingers, right now,” you ordered suddenly, “with your other hand.”

Confused but not willing to question it, he put his free hand in frame and did as you’d asked.

“Just— you know, just checking,” you explained, “people can, like, hack Zoom and put up a video or something, wanted to make sure it’s really you…”

“Is it that hard to believe?” he wondered.

“It’s just that, you know… you’re big,” you mumbled.  “I mean, no offense to my viewers or anything, but—definitely the biggest I’ve seen in a video call, I’ll say that.”

That made his cock flex in his hand.  “So, you like it then?”

“Like it?  Wish you could’ve seen how wet I got when that popped up,” you laughed.  “God, I would suck you—I mean I would really suck your cock, lick it all over, taste those balls—”

He squeezed his cock in his hand, snarling a little.  “That’s so hot,” he groaned.

“And I can just tell you’d go so deep inside me,” you added, making his chest tighten up.  “Do you know how many inches it is?  I wanna try to find the closest toy I have to your size, then I can really imagine how you’d feel in my pussy.”

He was almost high just on the knowledge that you wanted to imagine that.  “Uh—eight, maybe eight and a half…”

"Fuck," you breathed.  "Yeah, I— I think I have a vibrator that size, but I'm not sure it'll be… thick enough…"

"Well, mine doesn't vibrate," he warned you with a laugh.

"Yeah, and mine isn't dishwasher safe," you returned.

"Oh god— people clean these in the dishwasher?" Dieter realized with a shudder.  

"Yeah— I'm guessing you've never used one before?" you pressed, and he shook his head— before he remembered you couldn't see it.

"No," he answered aloud.  "I, uh, usually just prefer the real thing."

"Right— me too, but you know, we make do," you laughed.  "So?  Wanna give it a spin?"

"I, uh, I guess so…"

Grabbing the toy from the little bedside table, he looked at it for a moment— it was shaped like a vulva around the opening, but it wasn't that realistic.  First of all, it was only one color; second of all, the design was so simplified that it was missing the things he loved most about a pussy in terms of looks.  Not the Dieter had ever thought the visual element was its strongest…

But yours was gorgeous— beyond perfect.  Looked edible, delicious even, with a clit he wanted to suck on for hours and a cute little hole he couldn't imagine being lucky enough to fill with his cock.  And this toy was just that— a toy, a piece of silicone, and he really only had any interest in it because this whole thing was your idea.

Sighing, he slipped the toy down on himself; he wasn't sure what he was expecting, really, but it was a unique feeling.  Not as hot or wet as a real body, of course, but there was a nice pressure to it.

“How’s it feel?” you asked warmly.

“Good,” he breathed— not a very creative answer, but the best one he could come up with now.  “Way better than my hand, but nothing like, you know—”

“Nothing like me?" you assumed.

He sighed as he started to stroke himself with the toy— long, slow movements to get used to it.  "Yeah," he agreed, "nothing like— fuck— like you…"

"Are you imagining it's me instead?" you pressed, leaning in closer and watching intently.  "Imagining me riding you nice and slow like that?  Letting you hold my hips and move me just how you like?"

"I'm certainly trying to," he mumbled.

"Look how wet I am," you encouraged, and he leaned his head to the side a bit so he could see the screen better: you had your legs spread wide for him, and your fingers were rubbing your glistening cunt.  "I'd drench your cock, baby, probably make a fucking mess on you—"

"Fuck," he moaned, "use the toy on yourself.  Fuck yourself with it while I'm doing this."

You spread your legs and pushed the vibe inside— but you didn't turn it on— with a sigh; you were already finding a place you liked by pushing it in and out with your hand, but he stopped you before you got too into it.

"No," he corrected, "ride it."

You smirked.  "Maybe my legs are sore."

"Maybe I don't give a fuck."

You bit your lip and sat up, holding the toy between your legs and rocking your hips as you started to ride.

He whimpered when he saw the way you were enjoying the toy— you picked it because it was close to his size, so it was impossible not to picture being under you and watching you sink yourself down on him just like that. 

"Feels so good," you panted, "been wet all day waiting for our call… and I can't stop staring at your cock…"

"You really like our calls that much?" he wondered, knowing your answer couldn't be totally honest but not really caring anymore— he craved the fantasy, that was why he couldn't stop booking these.

"Yeah," you hummed.  "Don't tell anyone, but you're my favorite."

"Don't… don't flatter me," he pleaded, trying to remind himself that you were just saying nice things because you were paid to.

"It's true," you assured.  "Your voice turns me on like crazy— not to mention the shit you actually say with it…"

Figuring he should treat you to a little bit of that dirty talk you apparently enjoyed, he swallowed and conjured some courage to boss you around a bit.  "Turn around— wanna see your ass," he demanded, moaning louder when you did as you were told.  "Look so fuckin' good riding that…"

You arched your back further just to give him a better view; he hissed, pumping the toy faster.

"God, you drive me crazy showing off your ass like that," he admitted with a groan.  "Needs a good spank but I'm afraid to crack my computer screen."

You laughed a little, but reached back and pulled your ass apart so he could get a better view of that pink hole swallowing up the toy.  

"Jeeeeeesus fucking Christ," he grunted, moving his own toy faster.  "You've got the most beautiful cunt, baby, I swear…"

"And you've got such a nice cock," you replied with a groan.  "Can't stop thinking about it— I just know you'd stretch me out, baby, the way I like—"

"Fuck, I would," he promised.  "I know how you need it, I just know— I swear I wouldn't stop until you came all over me, until you fucking soaked me—*

"Baby," you panted.

"And then I still wouldn't stop until you did it again—"

"Fuck!" you whined, and he saw your pussy tighten on the vibrator.  "That sounds so fucking good— sounds like exactly what I need.  Just to be fucked until I can't think anymore…"

"God— you don't need to think," he promised.  "Just need to keep your legs open, I'll do the rest."

You moaned louder, and bounced faster on the fake cock.  "Yeah, I will— I'll just let you do all the work, okay?  Lay back and let you do what you want?"

*Fuck, yeah," he mumbled.  "Let me give that pussy what if needs… I know what you need, I can tell.  You need it deep, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And hard?  Fast?"

"Yes—"

"Shit, baby— turn around again, miss that pretty face— and I know you wanna look at it more, don't you?  You really like looking at my cock?"

You laughed slightly as you quickly turned back to face the camera.  "I mean— I wanna do a lot more than look at it, but this is all I can do right now."

"What else do you wanna do with it, then?"

"Choke on it," you answered instantly.  "Beg for it."

"Fuck," he whispered.

"Rub my pussy on it, show you how bad I need you…"

"Mm," he moaned in agreement.  

"Then I could just… slide it inside, try to fit you in my little hole, feel you going so deep…"

A little whimper slipped from his lips accidentally, and his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to picture it— you in his lap right now, looking back over your shoulder as you guided his cock into you.  It was a great image, but the toy wasn't enough— it wasn't warm enough to be you.

It was much better when he opened his eyes and saw how desperately you looked; you were literally dripping on the toy and he thought he might lose his mind.

"You like watching me use this that much?" he noticed.  "You're so dirty, baby— so turned on watching my dick fill this fake pussy.  I know you wish you were here instead— we both do."

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “I want you to fuck the toy just like you’d fuck me, please…”

He started to buck his hips up into it; he loved seeing the way your face changed when you watched him using the fleshlight more… aggressively.  "How's that look?" he prompted you with a smirk.  "You wanna be fucked like this?"

"God yes— I wanna be your toy, Hector," you informed him with a purr.  "I'm jealous of it, actually— I'm watching you fuck that fake pussy and I'm jealous…"

"I always get jealous," he replied.  "All those toys that get to feel you every night in your streams?  I'm always thinking that should be me— I wanna make you come even harder than they do."

“I know you’d feel so much better,” you whimpered, “I know you’d fuck me better—you know how fucking tired I am of riding these toys?  How badly I just want you to hold me down and fuck me as hard and deep as you want?”

“Fuck, I want that too,” he groaned.

“Yeah?  Wanna use me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

"Wanna make me your toy?" you prompted.

Wanna make you my girl, he barely stopped himself from blurting out.  "Y-yeah," he choked out instead.

Stroking himself faster with the toy, he grunted softly and adjusted his hips on the bed.  "When you come, take the toy off," you instructed, "so I can see it.  Pretty please?"

"Of course," he agreed.  "It'll be hard to stop, but— I can do it, for you."

"How romantic," you cooed, and it wasn't totally clear how much you were joking.  "I wanna see you coming so I can imagine how it would all feel inside me…"

"That's what I'm gonna imagine, too," he promised with a sigh, "all that come going deep inside you… and keeping you full all night so none of it goes to waste…"

"Fuck," you groaned, "are you that possessive, need to stay inside me all night?  Won't let any of your come leak out?"

"Yeah— I'm… very possessive."

"Well, I like… being possessed…"

"Do you like being bred?"

You grinned, and he felt almost guilty for saying it— but the feeling was oddly erotic somehow.  "Yeah," you breathed.  "I like that… I like getting filled with come, hearing you promise that you're— fuck— gonna knock me up…"

He groaned as he tightened his gut to try to stave off the inevitable orgasm approaching.  "I wasn't even into that until I started watching you," he admitted with a sigh, "used to be my worst fear, honestly… but now it's all I can think about… fucking you raw, knowing you're not on anything, knowing you could get—"

"Just— just pretend," you interrupted suddenly.  "It's okay if it's just pretend, right?"

He was pleasantly surprised by the vulnerability of that.  You could've just played into it, since it was all over video call anyways and didn't make much difference.  It's not like he was going to get you pregnant from another continent.  But he appreciated that you spoke up for yourself, even if he wasn't totally sure why.  "Yeah, of course," he promised, voice a little softer.  "That's the thing— even just pretending drives me crazy, turns me on like nothing else.  You made me like this— don't even know how, but you made me want that."

"Fuck, that's— I'm close," you admitted, "really fucking close to coming for you… what else do I make you want?"

"You make me wanna buy you stuff," he added, laughing breathlessly.  "Spoil you, you know.  So much more than flowers."

"God, you know just what to say, don't you?" you sighed.  "What else— just tell me what you want, tell me everything."

“I want you to be mine,” he answered, too lost in pleasure to be self-conscious about the honesty.  “I want you to be only mine—want you here with me, want you in my bed all the fucking time, wanna make you come and make you say that you fucking belong to me.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, “that’s— fuck, I— I’m yours.  I belong to you.”

“God,” he gasped, nearly a sob it was so intense— he never thought you’d really say that.  “Don’t want you to let anybody else fuck you, or touch you.  Just mine, baby, you need to just be mine—”

“I am, I am,” you promised.  “I swear I’m fucking yours.  Don’t want anybody else—just want you, it’s all yours, whatever you want—m’gonna be your girl.  Your whore.”

“Fuck!” he moaned loudly, moving the toy so fast it was just a greyish blur over his cock.  “When you come, you tell me whose you are— I’m gonna fucking come, just say it.”

“Yours, yours,” you promised, over and over, “you’re making me come, it’s you— yours, m'yours—”

He groaned loudly as he pulled the toy off of himself just in time for come to paint his stomach and thighs.  He rode out his high untouched as he listened to your own cries, and kept his eyes trained on your face as you sobbed through the pleasure.  “Fuck,” he sighed, “don’t stop, just keeping riding it—good girl.”

“Mhm,” you whimpered, shaking as you kept going, nodding and biting your lip.  “Yeah, whatever you want…”

“Don’t stop until I tell you,” he ordered.  “You keep riding that fucking dick, I don’t care if you can’t come anymore, keep fucking going—”

“Yes,” you promised, “I’m still going… I won’t stop, not until you say.”

Catching his own breath, he waited until your legs looked ready to give out before telling you that you could stop.  The toy was drenched, your body was glistening with sweat—and he was panting so hard he felt dizzy.

“Holy shit,” you whispered.  “I mean—fuck.”

“So you liked that, too?” he noticed, and you smiled hazily.

“Yeah—that was… damn.  You wear me out, man.”

He laughed, though he barely had the air for it.  “I wear you out?  You see the contents of my balls all over the fucking place here?”

You laughed, then, and he still thought it was the best sound in the world, even better than hearing you come.  “Yeah, fair,” you relented.  “It was really hot, though—watching you come.  Is it bad if I wanna make you do it again?”

“Shit, tonight?  I don’t think I can—”

“No, no, not tonight, that might kill both of us,” you laughed.  “I meant next time…”

That made him deflate a bit.  Maybe this was all an upsell—it was just about getting him to pay for the next session, keeping him hooked so you could get the money and gifts.

“I was thinking, uh… maybe next time—oh god, this is a bad idea, but—maybe next time could be in person?"

And then his heart jumped.  “We could, uh… that’s an option?  We could meet up?” he rushed out, hoping not to sound too eager but failing completely.

“Yeah,” you decided, looking more self-conscious than he’d ever seen you.  “I don’t know, I just— it feels different with you.  That might be stupid but, it’s true.  And the truth is, I know everybody probably assumes a lot because of the camming and stuff, but I haven’t had sex in… years.  Just the toys.  And I fucking miss it.”

“Yeah, me too,” he breathed.  “I mean, uh, it hasn’t been that long for me… but I miss it— and I… I think I need you.  Like, really need you.”

You smiled, and it was different than any of the ways he'd seen you smile before.  "Yeah, I— I feel that, too.  But, if we're gonna meet in person… I need to see your face."

Sighing shakily, he thought about it clearly for the first time.  He was scared of meeting you in person, as badly as he wanted it.  He was scared whatever magic you felt over video call wouldn't translate to real life; he was scared to disappoint you.

But he was more scared of losing you because he never had the guts to try.  So, with a deep breath, he tilted the laptop back, and let the camera show his face.

His hair was even messier than he expected, so he tossed it with his fingers a bit, but otherwise just let you get a good look at him.

He'd spent most of his life being looked at— he'd spent most of his life trying to be looked at, fighting to be the center of attention.  He wore shades and ball caps to avoid the paps like anyone else— because he thought he was supposed to— but deep down, he was addicted to being seen, in spite of his introversion.

He'd never felt as seen as he did when you were looking at him through that stupid webcam.  He almost blushed, though he wasn't sure why.

"Hi," you greeted softly, sounding almost completely different than before.

"Hi," he said back.

Update: How To Keep Seeing My Smuts & Other Writers'

As per Tumblr's New "Community Label" Update

Hello! I've seen other writers make a post about the new update, so I wanted to make one of mine to notify my readers.

As you may know, Tumblr is pushing a Community Label update in which users are allowed to filter the content they want to see. While this is highly beneficial for those who want to avoid seeing content they aren't fond of, this can make you stop seeing the smuts a lot of writers in this community create.

If you want to keep enjoying our smuts:

For Website:

Go to Dashboard Settings, and click the Show circle in the Community Labels section on Mature content. Do the same for Sexual themes. You can choose whether to tick the options of the other choices or not.

Image taken from @writerpeach <3

For Mobile:

Go to Account Settings, then choose Content you see.

Go to the Community Labels section and click the arrow beside Hide on Mature. Then, click Show for both Mature and Sexual themes. Again, it is your choice if you want to tick the Show button for the other choices.

Thank you for reading, and reblog to spread the word!