A/N: After being away from Tumblr for some time, I humbly yeet this on there -the chapters have been sitting in my documents for months. Thank you to my amazing @just-here-for-the-moment for the feedback and encouragement <3
A special thank you to my lovely @sirowsky who this chapter is dedicated to, who helped me iron out some horse nuances. Julia, in this chapter, is inspired by her.
Explanation: Boma is an enclosure or fenced off area - the word is Swahili and used in different parts of Africa.
Warnings: This is a 18+ series only! Jack needs his own warning. Daydreams with unrealistic physics (you just gotta go with me here), mentions of alcohol, sexual activity. Curse words. Reader is a blank slate, POC-friendly.
Sunlight streamed through the slatted windows, painting your face with bright streaks of light like some ethereal warrior in slumber.
As your slowly awoke, you didn’t feel as noble, finally stretching your limbs to rid them of the last vestiges of sleep lingering in your muscles. Your calves and thighs protested; they still needed some rest after bolting home in the night. At the time you barely felt the muscles in your legs strain because the beating one in your chest hurt so much.
For one blissful moment, the feather-softness of the duvet and the mild, warm weather was comforting. Once you were awake however, the previous night crystallised in your mind, bit by bit.
With a hoarse groan you buried your face in the pillow, wondering whether suffocating yourself now would mean you didn’t need to ever see the Statesman group again. You felt like you’d made a complete idiot of yourself in front of them. Tequila’s silly game, Ginger’s cheeky taunt forcing Jack into a corner. You had overplayed your hand and got caught holding nothing - a fool’s bluff and an embarrassment.
You had practically preened when he cupped your face, enjoying something that wasn’t yours to have. You needed to remember that. Don’t get close - stay in your lane until they leave, you chastised yourself. Whatever little piece of your heart they’d take with them you could deal with it then. For now, you had to keep it together and wear your client service veneer.
You rolled out of bed, stiffly making your way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. You thanked your lucky stars that you had a later start. The longer you were alone, the more you could recharge. Avoid facing your group; hopefully try to scrub the worst scuff marks of the memory from your mind. You grabbed your tablet and cup and flopped back into bed.
Pulling up the itinerary, you made quick work of going over the details of the next two days’ activities. Today was a horse-riding trail and picnic so you were going to be with them for most of the day. The only upside to this, you mused, was that you’d all be on horses and you could avoid Jack for the most part. Of course, you’d have to talk to him during the picnic, but no silver lining was perfect.
Placing the cup on your bedside table, you savoured the smell of the warm brew and relaxed back into the huge continental pillow that you’d scooped up off the floor. The pillowy embrace made your eyes slowly slip closed.
Unbidden, the image of Jack’s plush lips so close to yours flashed in the darkness behind your eyelids. The way his eyes widened as you fought out of his grip to put distance between you as quickly as possible.
You couldn’t understand where this ache was coming from. Jack was not the first man to reject you and wouldn’t be the last. But he was the most ridiculous one, you spitefully thought to yourself.
He might also be the most infuriating.
And the most beautiful, your stupid heart added.
Those brown eyes. The soft cupid’s bow, the crease in the full bottom lip. His profile. With your eyes closed you were pleasantly surprised at how many visual memories of him you had stored away.
You laid back and let your mind wander, the earlier vision of him in the pool flooding your mind with delicious visuals again. You imagined Jack lifting himself out of the pool in slow motion, rivulets of saltwater streaming down his broad shoulders and back, down to the tapered waist, hugged by tight black swimming trunks. Imaginary Jack positioned himself onto the lip of the pool, bringing his arms up to slick back the water from his dark hair. Even in your own imagination, you were rooted to the spot near the Statesman table, just taking him in.
Imaginary Jack regarded you for a moment, then beckoned you closer with a subtle move of his head, his eyes flicking to the space in front of him, then back to you.
In the usual absurdity of dreams, you started slowly undressing to join him. You shimmied your work jumpsuit over your hips and tugged your underwear down along with it. Looking back at Imaginary Jack, his eyes were fixed on you, not letting up for even a moment. When your hands unclasped your bra and your nipples pebbled in the fresh air, the smirk on his face said he liked what he saw very, very much. Like a goddess descending into a liquid underworld you slowly walked into the shallow end of the pool, the water rippling against your body, sending little shivers up your skin.
When it became too deep, you spread your arms in front of you and swam to right in front of Imaginary Jack, who was sitting at the other shallow end. Reaching him, you stood up, framed by his knees - he widened them for you, a wordless invitation to get close. You looked up at him expectantly, the bright sunlight coasting off the highest points of his handsome features.
He leaned forward and cupped your face with both hands. Your mind resurfaced those ghost sensations of his warm hands from the previous night. He claimed your mouth hungrily, not wasting time with chaste kisses when he wanted you like this. You revelled in this novel idea that Jack might want you, even if it was conjured up by your own imagination.
As he pulled you into him, you leaned over, your breasts flush with his stomach. Against your sternum you felt him harden even more as lips and tongue meted out a need for each other.
You broke the kiss, running your hands down to his waist and worked your fingers underneath the band of his trunks. Inching them down, Imaginary Jack lifted himself briefly to aid their journey down to his ankles.
You tossed the wet scrap of material out of the pool roguishly, a naughty little smile on your lips.
Imaginary Jack made Real You wet. A soft whimper escaped your lips as the image of Jack burnt bright in your mind’s eye - naked as the day he was born, perched on the edge of a gorgeous saltwater pool. His hard cock proudly jutted out in front of him, a sexy smirk played on his plush lips, because he knew what would happen next. Of course he did. Because he was a fucking figment of your imagination, you chastised yourself.
Your palm curled around his heft and you winked at him before your head dipped down.
“This is mine, cowboy.”
As your lips wrapped around the head, you could feel Imaginary Jack’s clever fingers slide over your breasts, cupping and moulding them as he got carried away with the sensation.
At the visceral imaginary vision of a naked Jack, you worked your sleep shorts down and hurriedly slid your fingers through your slick folds, feverishly working your sensitive bud as the fantasy played out behind your eyelids. You were enjoying this little break from reality; anything was possible.
Imaginary Jack growled at you, then reached over and pulled you out of the water roughly by your arms. He sat you on top of his thighs, folding your legs around him. Despite only being perched on Jack’s thighs, it felt like he surrounded you. You felt his large hand slide over your back and slide you closer to him and you leaned into the expanse of his chest like you belonged there.
He reached between the two of you, fingers running over your slit and feeling how ready you were for him, lifted you up easily, sinking you down again on his hard length. Taking him down to the root, it felt like he was splitting you open - a delicious stretch that made you moan out loud.
Jack captured your mouth, swallowing your moans while moving you up and down on his hard cock. Pulling away, you challenged him breathlessly. “Fuck me like you mean it, cowboy.”
Jack’s eyebrows lifted in the amused way you had seen so many times since his arrival, and slid his hands up to your shoulders, cupping them with the heel of his hand resting on your shoulder blades.
“Anythin’ you want, Sugar.”
He gripped your shoulders and pulled you down harshly, punching deep inside you. After a few hard thrusts like this, his hands slid down to your hips hungrily. He angled himself so that the coarse hair and heated skin at the base of him rubbed deliciously at your clit with each upstroke. The pressure and pace reached a fever pitch and you came hard around him. “Jack!” you wailed, scrabbling to hold on to him.
That broke the spell, and you opened your eyes again, chest heaving from exertion.
You hoped you would magically develop amnesia soon.
After breakfast you started making your way to the stables. This was one of the many perks of the job that you partook in as often as you could. The large building comfortably housed 12 horses, and was stylish in its bare-bones approach. Natural stones and concrete made up the outer barn, and framed a large entrance in a way that made the large thatch-roofed structure look welcoming.
This was the domain of Julia, a veritable horse-whisperer that could perform miracles with animals who were largely still a mystery to you. She had come down from the northern lands to live on the resort, like you, and spent her time training the horses, taking care of them and supervising guest rides. What Julia didn’t know about horses wasn’t worth knowing.
Sometimes the two of you just hung out - you were two of the few women around, the often harsh and demanding nature of the jobs out on the resort more to the taste of guys with an appetite for adventure and outdoors. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t have to stay on your toes physically, as Julia liked to remind you when you saw her heading off to the resort gym like clockwork. It always ended up in you blowing her a raspberry and her laughing as she walked off.
As you became closer, she had tried to introduce you to some horses. Julia talked at length about their personalities and how they liked to be handled. You were amazed at the level of detail in which she observed them and how she could weave it together to form such a character study. You had found them a little intimidating at first but her efforts were not wasted. You warmed to them and it shamed you to say you even had a few favourites now.
Ysa was an English Thoroughbred, the most docile creature in the stable. She would often nuzzle your hand when you fed her a snack and you couldn’t help running your hand over her soft muzzle and scritch her forehead. She was sweetness incarnate and you often whispered to her that she was your angel baby when Julia wasn’t nearby.
Hank, an American quarter horse, was naughty as they come. Prone to tricks, and running off in a random direction at the drop of a hat, he tended to work best with riders who knew their way around horses.
Then there was a horse that you had a soft spot for but never dared approach. Duchess was a loner and a difficult one at that. The proud Oldenburger strode through the yard like she owned it, her glossy chestnut coat shining in the mid-morning sun. She seemed to keep humans at arm’s length, even though she got along well with her stable mates. It took Julia weeks to earn enough of Duchess’ trust to let her close.
The woman in question was brushing Hank when you walked in a little early for your appointment with the group.
“Hey Jules, how are you and the ponies today?”
She blew a dark blonde lock of hair out of her face and turned to you with a sardonic smile, ready to chastise you for daring to call them ponies.
“Good, everyone seems to be in fine spirits. I see we have a group of three coming in today. Anything I should know?”
Julia always asked if you had interesting personalities in your group. She sometimes changed her horse selection based on who was coming in. Whether they were highly-strung people, very gregarious, used to horses or newbies, if she could find the ideal horse for them, it would make their riding experience so much better.
You sat down cross-legged on a large, square hay bale and toyed with the fragrant straw-like sticks poking out from underneath you. It was difficult to explain this group to her. Not because you haven’t had groups like this before, but this time it felt strangely exposing. Like you’d be revealing something of yourself if you told her what your impressions of them were. Julia was a perceptive woman, and you were sure your friend would figure it out anyway.
After chewing on the question for a while, you looked up at her.
“They all seem…fine? Ginger, I mean…Erin….seems quite timid. I don’t think she’s ridden before. Or, she doesn’t strike me as an experienced rider. Jake says he knows his way around horses.
You hesitated for a beat.
Jack is…well you’ll have to see it for yourself. He wears a Stetson and does the whole ‘cowboy’ thing.” Julia laughed at your exaggerated air quotes and you couldn’t help smiling at your own assessment.
You continued.
“He should come with a warning sign, to be honest. He might try to flirt with you. Or the horse. Both, possibly. Just….gird your loins, he’s a menace.”
As the last words left your mouth you heard a whistle as Tequila walked into the stables. He picked you up bodily and hugged you. His voice boomed through the wide open space.
“I’m so excited for this, I haven’t ridden in so long, I need that wind through my hair today.”
With his arms loosening, you rubbed your palms over your ribs, which you were sure were now bruised.
Peering up at his # 4 shaved hair, you wondered what breeze he imagined he’d be feeling that he wasn’t already experiencing just from walking around. These rides were normally a tame affair and Julia, although sweet, wasn’t to be messed with.
Ginger and Jack followed on his heels, the latter shooting you a blinding smile, like he’d been waiting for this moment all day. You nodded curtly, and tried to surreptitiously use Julia as a human shield to hide behind. Her eyes crinkled in mirth as she picked up on your plan, and she stuck her hand out to him to distract him. From behind Julia you were suddenly very interested in the reins on Bojack, fingering the leather between your thumb and forefinger as if to divine its quality and origin, like some craftsman.
Her even, calm voice broke through your faux concentration. “Hi, you must be Jack, nice to meet you.”
“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance Ma’am.” he said genially, tipping his hat to her. You were fully expecting something lecherous to leave his lips and you couldn’t immediately figure out whether you were relieved that he’d spared you another blow or disappointed because you had gotten it wrong. Again.
She moved to greet the others, and you doubled your efforts to inspect the cheekpiece with intense concentration. After a few minutes you noticed Jack wasn’t beside you anymore. He had wandered off into the stable, while the others milled about were peppering Julia with questions about the trip and the horses.
Despite yourself, you walked to see where he had gotten off to. You finally found him in front of Duchess’ stall, his side to you, so that his profile was illuminated by the outside lighting. Quietly, you watched him, careful not to disturb or intrude.
He leaned over the stall door, one arm casually resting on it, while the other hand was lightly stroking the bridge of her nose, almost reverently. In the shuffling quiet of the barn, he murmured to her in hushed tones.
Whatever magic he was weaving seemed to be working because she lifted her muzzle and breathed in his face, letting out a deep hum.
Julia sidled up to him, worried that Duchess would lull him into a false sense of security and then make a fuss. She wasn’t normally this familiar with strangers.
“She’s quite ornery, I wouldn’t get too close.”
“What, this lil puddin’ pie over here? I’m sure she’s fine. Besides, I like my girls with a lil’ bit of fight in them.” He grinned, suddenly shifting his eyes to look at you from under the cowboy hat. You had no idea he even realised you were there and you quietly slinked away like the world’s most embarrassed slug. Fuck.
Julia helped everyone onto the horses, while you and Jack stood at the side watching. With a bit of a battle, Ginger finally sat astride Ysa, who looked bored, with Tequila on Hank. A great personality match, you thought.
As soon as Julia brought out Dusty, another English Thoroughbred, Jack walked over to her.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to try my hand with that ol’ girl.” and he pointed to Duchess.
A pained expression stole over Julia’s face. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s difficult to handle. She’s been very resistant to training, so I haven’t let anyone ride her but myself.”
“I know I might not look it but I’m an expert rider and trained horses in my younger days. I’ll be fine, I promise. If you need me to sign some waiver or somethin’, I’ll happily do it.”.
She paused for a few seconds and then relented. Duchess seemed comfortable around Jack, and she would be close by if Duchess decided to do anything funny.
Getting Jack and yourself settled was quick and easy, as you both knew the ins and outs of getting into the saddle. You thanked your lucky stars that Jack was wearing slightly less tight jeans today; you didn’t know if you’d survive seeing him getting on the horse in his usual getup.
The horses padded outside, the fresh breeze ruffling their manes and carrying the fragrant scent of the sunkissed savanna on the wind.
The group got going, the dull, rhythmic thud of hooves on the soil joining the locusts' high pitched buzzing, as the horses descended into a shallow valley. Julia was the first to break the silence.
“I’m impressed Jack, no one’s ridden Duchess like this before. She’s so relaxed. It’s not your first time on top of a horse, I can see that.” she said.
Jack chuckled.
“Also not my first time on top of a Duchess.”
Ginger broke out in a violent coughing fit and Tequila’s unadulterated guffaw boomed through the wide open space, echoing against the slopes a few times before dying down.
Julia tried to recover, admirably so, by steering the conversation into safer territory, asking various members of the group where they learnt to ride for the first time. After a while, she circled back to Jack.
“You mentioned you were a trainer in your younger days, tell me about that? I’m so keen to hear from another horse enthusiast.”
You were trying to listen while just looking ahead of you.
“Oh, it’s nothin’ really. I grew up on a ranch, so I’ve been fond of horses my whole life. My dad used to train and taught me the skill too. Takes a lot of patience, a lot of time, y’know?”
He looked over at Julia, who nodded her head knowingly. Jack continued, looking a little wistful.
“He was a wild one, but Mama made him settle down some.”
“Your dad or the horse?” you quipped.
A naughty smile wrapped around Jack’s gorgeous lips like smoke curling from a starting fire.
“Well now which one do you think, missy? Ain’t no woman can settle a horse like she can settle a man whose heart is ready to do so for her.” he said quietly.
There it was again, that feeling that your pulse was sitting right in your throat and constricting your breathing. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you tried to distract yourself. Imagining a strapping young 20-something Jack on a ranch somewhere wooing some cute girl was not something you should be thinking about.
After a long while, you reached an outpost. It was a thatch boma with a few rough-hewn picnic tables and some camp lights, meant as a destination for the horse riding excursions. To the right of the boma was a fire pit, where you had spent many evenings watching the sunset and enjoying a sundowner with some of your groups. Watching the burnt orange sun descend over the dark savanna just never got old.
summary: Facing immediate eviction you needed a roommate and you seem to have found the perfect choice in Max Phillips. He's charming, tidy, works nights at a marketing firm and even fixes things around the apartment. He's the perfect housemate. . . except for those strange scratching noises coming from his room at night...
What a fantastic series - not me waking up at 6am on a Sunday tearing through this story...and only seeing at the end of part XIV who Dr Helsing was based on 😍 Thank you for sharing @auteurdelabre.
In a near-future mutants have begun popping up. in the earliest days of their existence it was determined to be linked to food-- food that was made by mutated genes began teaching human genes to mutate. In the earliest days there were camps and the children (and their mothers) were ruthlessly quarantined and studied, but these have been broken up for a little while now. Not that it exactly improved mutant-normie relations.
A mutant named Rory runs a circus for mutants, general freaks, the unwanted, allies of the aforementioned, and whoever wants to be there. The rule is that anyone looking for safe haven in the circus gets it, and they keep their own safe (and keep their own law).
One day 2 suspicious things happen.
There is a massive fire in a "rehab" center (where of course people don't do genetic work specifically involving mutants) and an unconscious woman is found right on the edge of the circus.
The circus takes her in and offers her sanctuary, even lying to the police who come to look for her.
She stays-- Ruby is a Normie and she will admit she's never been around so many mutants but she's hiding there (the same as most of them) and she learns there's a lot to love about mutants (especially that handsome one running the circus). The mutants aren't judgmental and she realizes she's been carrying around a lot of bias.
She gets closer to everyone-- and admits she's pregnant (and the baby was tested and likely to be a mutant). She's obviously concerned for it in the wider world-- but here? They all make her one of the family.
Then one day the news flashes: an heiress to one of the most powerful families is missing, last seen at a wedding of her equally powerful and rich friend, a wedding that was crashed by a mutant terrorist group and resulted in the death of a prominent society member.
The horrors come to light:
Ruby is the missing heiress. After a fling with a lifelong crush at her best friend's wedding Ruby witnessed him die during the terrorist attack and also in the wake discovered she was pregnant. The baby's early tests indicated it was a mutant and her family immediately threw her into a facility -- testing her and the baby, ignoring her, and generally trying to "fix" what was wrong. Ruby escaped by setting a fire and running...and never expected they'd come looking for her.
Now that the truth's all out she expects the circus to turn her away but they don't.
But they also don't turn away another person seeking safe haven: the very mutant terrorist that ruined Ruby's friend's wedding and killed her baby's father.
Can Ruby swallow her sense of rage and injustice? Will she be able to get along with everyone or are there only *some* good mutants? Why does her family want her back all of a sudden? Can she trust that THEY'VE really changed their minds about mutants?
Might be because Ruby was hand made using Splice, crispr-esque tech that allows parents to design children. Most of her friends were born this way.
When the terrorist attacked the wedding their aim was never to kill...it was to expose the same rich people who spliced their children to the mutagens that everyone else was exposed to. Her family (and her babys family) are now all contaminated with 2 giant corporations hanging in the balance so they want their heir.... and intend to splice it while its alive to cure it, a feat never attempted before.
In a near-future mutants have begun popping up. in the earliest days of their existence it was determined to be linked to food-- food that was made by mutated genes began teaching human genes to mutate. In the earliest days there were camps and the children (and their mothers) were ruthlessly quarantined and studied, but these have been broken up for a little while now. Not that it exactly improved mutant-normie relations.
A mutant named Rory runs a circus for mutants, general freaks, the unwanted, allies of the aforementioned, and whoever wants to be there. The rule is that anyone looking for safe haven in the circus gets it, and they keep their own safe (and keep their own law).
One day 2 suspicious things happen.
There is a massive fire in a "rehab" center (where of course people don't do genetic work specifically involving mutants) and an unconscious woman is found right on the edge of the circus.
The circus takes her in and offers her sanctuary, even lying to the police who come to look for her.
She stays-- Ruby is a Normie and she will admit she's never been around so many mutants but she's hiding there (the same as most of them) and she learns there's a lot to love about mutants (especially that handsome one running the circus). The mutants aren't judgmental and she realizes she's been carrying around a lot of bias.
She gets closer to everyone-- and admits she's pregnant (and the baby was tested and likely to be a mutant). She's obviously concerned for it in the wider world-- but here? They all make her one of the family.
Then one day the news flashes: an heiress to one of the most powerful families is missing, last seen at a wedding of her equally powerful and rich friend, a wedding that was crashed by a mutant terrorist group and resulted in the death of a prominent society member.
The horrors come to light:
Ruby is the missing heiress. After a fling with a lifelong crush at her best friend's wedding Ruby witnessed him die during the terrorist attack and also in the wake discovered she was pregnant. The baby's early tests indicated it was a mutant and her family immediately threw her into a facility -- testing her and the baby, ignoring her, and generally trying to "fix" what was wrong. Ruby escaped by setting a fire and running...and never expected they'd come looking for her.
Now that the truth's all out she expects the circus to turn her away but they don't.
But they also don't turn away another person seeking safe haven: the very mutant terrorist that ruined Ruby's friend's wedding and killed her baby's father.
Can Ruby swallow her sense of rage and injustice? Will she be able to get along with everyone or are there only *some* good mutants? Why does her family want her back all of a sudden? Can she trust that THEY'VE really changed their minds about mutants?
Hey everyone! I’m very excited to announce the release of Things Unspoken: Sensual and Seductive Short Stories, an anthology of 12 short romance stories. The eBook is available for presale starting now and the paperback will be on sale starting February 1st!
I edited this book with my good friend Jasmine Luck. We had such a great time gathering some of our favorite writers to contribute, and now…
Things Unspoken, edited by Jasmine Luck (@jazzyluckwrites) and Yours Truly (me! it's me, but under my pen name!) is almost here!
The eBook is available for preorder RIGHT NOW! and the paperback will drop Feb. 1st
Please join us in welcoming some of your future favorite authors...
Carmilla Sloane instagram.com/carmillasloane @theauthorcarmillasloane
Cate Page instagram.com/catepagewrites @catepagewrites
Charlie Gallows instagram.com/charlie_gallows
Jayce Hanna instagram.com/jayce.hanna
Maddie Swellkid instagram.com/maddieswellkid
Olivia Lockhart instagram.com/livvieharts
Quinn Perry instagram.com/quinnethperry
Viola Layne instagram.com/violalaynewrites
Plus: J.L. Valdés, O.J. Adira, and Sabine Marlize!
Many of these authors are publishing for the very first time! So this is your chance to discover them right off the bat. They are so good, this book has been a joy to work with them on, and they're all together in one place for you to enjoy!
Plus, you may already love their writing here on Tumblr! I'll let them link their pen names to their blogs if they want to, but we've also got... @bluestripedspeedo @intheorangebedroom @songsformonkeys and @whatsnewalycat
Put Things Unspoken on your Valentine's wish list 💖
This was all @deadhumourist and I could talk about today. It’s so…. OH MY GOD HE’S PERFECT I LOVE HIM SO MUCH DEAR GOD WHY DID YOU PUT ME ON THE PLANET AT THE SAME TIME AS THIS UNATTAINABLE MAN? 😭
The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez Epilogue (Porn Star AU)
Series: The Sweepstakes
Pairing: Porn star Javi Gutierrez x Female Reader
Summary: You are getting dressed up a year after your night with Javi
Word count: 637
Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings: Healing from negative body image, mentions of past sexual encounter, reader is a full figured gal, but has no other physical descriptions
A/N: If you haven’t read The Sweepstakes: Javi Gutierrez yet, go read it first! I always knew this would be their epilogue, I don’t know why it took me so long to write it! I hope you enjoy! Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line. Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
Series Masterlist
Javi Gutierrez Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Taglist – in reblog, let me know if you would like to be added or fill out the taglist form linked in my bio!
“Are you getting dressed?”
Javi’s deep voice rumbles in your ear.
“Yeah.”
“What are you wearing?”
“The black one.”
Javi groans. “Your tits look amazing in that one. Muéstrame. Let me see.”
You add video to the call as you check yourself out in your full-length mirror. You have to agree with Javi, the woman looking back at you looks pretty amazing.
What a change from this time last year. Your mirror is much less of an enemy these days.
Your negative body image isn’t something you could change overnight. Even if the night in question was the most amazing one you’ve ever had. You think back on that night with Javi often. The way Javi looked at you with lust and desire in his eyes and the confidence it gave you to let go.
You’ve even watched it a few times. You didn’t want to be filmed initially, but Javi convinced you to try. He bent you into positions you didn’t know you were capable of and found realms of pleasure you hadn’t discovered on your own, and most definitely not with a partner. You lost count of how many times he made you come.
The video was difficult to watch at first. You squinted through your fingers and could only let it play for a minute or two. But gradually, it got easier.
You practiced looking at yourself in the mirror. Javi would whisper in your ear while you looked at your naked body. He helped you see the beauty in your roundness and rolls until you started to see it yourself.
Now you run your hands over your curves with affection and don’t need a gorgeous man to tell you what to appreciate… but you still like it sometimes.
Javi fills your phone screen with his golden skin, warm brown eyes, and sunshine smile.
“Hola, bonita. Show me this dress.”
You angle the camera down to show the deep V at the front of your dress, your cleavage on full display, and the high slit up your thigh.
“Deliciosa,” he murmurs. “Do you think it is tonight?”
You nod and bite your lip as your cheeks heat. You’ve been dating Joel for a little while now. Your connection was immediate. There was just something about his soulful brown eyes that drew you in.
“Is he good enough for you?”
“You know he is, Javi.”
Javi’s protectiveness of you warms your heart. You’ve told Javi about all your dates over the last year. He has become your best friend and confidant.
You haven’t had sex with anyone since him, focusing instead on how you feel about yourself, so you’d be ready when the right man came along. You wanted to be able to fully embrace that side of yourself when the time came.
Then you met Joel.
Charming, gentlemanly, competent Joel… you shiver with anticipation.
You know he is the right man. Tonight may just be the right night.
“You’re glowing, bonita.” Javi interrupts your reverie. “I am so happy for you!”
Javi’s smile lights up the screen and you smile back. “Thank you, Javi. For everything.”
“De nada, but it was you all along. I just get to enjoy. I hope that this will not end, but I will understand if it does.”
Javi’s puppy dog eyes fill the screen. Thankfully, you can console him. “Joel knows about you. I think you’ll be great friends.”
“Bueno! I am so glad! I know this is maybe unusual.”
“Maybe, but I don’t care.”
Just then, your doorbell chimes. “Oh! He’s here!”
“Ve! Go!”
“Bye, Javi! I love you!”
“Te quiero tambien! Call me tomorrow.” Javi smooches the camera and hangs up.
You check your dress and make-up one last time in the mirror, grab your bag, and open the door to the man of your dreams.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: Did Joel surprise you???? He surprised me!!! Am I even capable of writing something without a cameo? Lololol
Spanish translations:
Muéstrame - show me
Hola, bonita - hello, beautiful
Deliciosa - delicious
De nada - you're welcome
Ve! - Go!
Te quiero también - I love you too
Summary: It seemed like a great idea at the time, but now you’re not sure you’re brave enough to claim your sweepstakes prize.
Word count: ~3.2k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings: reader is a full-figured gal, vague body descriptions, body insecurity, some ass smacks, ass worship, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV (there is paperwork)
A/N: Huge thank you to @burntheedges for all her help with this! Javi is a new character for me as is some of the subject matter I’m writing about. I hope I’ve done both justice! Spanish translations are at the end, but everything should be able to be understood in line with context. I hope you enjoy!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
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“There’s a kitchen to the left and a bathroom here,” Erin opens a door to show you a spacious full bath. “The production room is at the end of this hall, which is where I will be if you need anything.”
You nod along and follow her down the hall.
“And of course, here is the room where you’ll be doing your scene!” She opens the double doors with a flourish.
It’s so… bright in there. Is it always that bright?
You look around the large bedroom. A bedroom you are very familiar with, as it is where your favorite porn production company films many of their videos.
You wrap your arms around your torso, feeling exposed even though you’re still fully clothed.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
You entered a sweepstakes you never expected to win. You saw the ad after a particularly satisfying session with your vibrator. It said, “Enter to win a night with your favorite performer!”
Your favorite performer had just given you a fantastic orgasm. In your dopamine haze it seemed like the best idea you’d ever had. You’ve never had an orgasm with a partner, but he gets you there every time. Could he do it in person?
The “he” in question was none other than Javi Gutierrez. The friendliest porn star there ever was. Sunshine incarnate. You wondered and then you clicked submit.
Now, seeing the room in person, faced with the reality of the large bed and sunlight filtering through the curtains… your brilliant idea doesn’t seem so brilliant anymore.
Erin leads you into the room and continues, “Since you’ve opted not to be filmed, we have removed all the cameras except one.” She gestures towards a tripod in the corner. “The lens cap is on though, it’s just for sound. We will be monitoring the feed just to be sure everyone is safe.”
“I… I don’t know… if I can do this,” you choke out, your breaths coming faster and faster as panic builds in your chest.
“Hey, it’s ok.” Erin places her hands on your shoulders and captures your darting gaze. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If you just want to meet Javi and call it a night, that is completely fine. He really is the sweetest.” She smiles at you, and you let out a long exhale, allowing your shoulders to relax slightly.
“He won’t be upset?”
“Upset? No. Our performers are all very aware of how intimidating this is and would never judge anyone for backing out, Javi especially. I know he is excited to meet you, though.”
“Me? Why?” That’s just ridiculous. One of the most beautiful men in existence is excited to meet jiggly, squishy you?
“He’s excited to meet everyone, all the time, but we did show him your photo and tell him a little about you from your paperwork. I believe his exact word was deliciosa.” She winks.
Delicious? What? Javi is always so complimentary to his scene partners, telling them how beautiful they are and how good they feel, but none of his scene partners look like you.
“What do you think? Want to meet him?” Erin asks you gently.
You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” If Javi is who you think he is, then he will at least be friendly and kind.
“I’ll send him in in a few minutes. Make yourself comfortable and remember, we are here for you, however you want this evening to go.” She leaves the room, closing the doors behind her.
You face the bed, the space you’ve traveled to in your mind so many times now real in front of you. You’ll just meet him, and it will be fine. So what if you’ll never know what it’s really like to be with him. So what if this once in a lifetime opportunity passes you by.
You hear the doors open behind you and quickly turn around only to be blinded by the gorgeousness that is Javi Gutierrez.
He’s wearing a white tank top that shows off his broad, muscular shoulders, lightly freckled from the sun, and loose linen pants that hang low on his hips, revealing a thin slice of tummy and happy trail. His skin positively glows in the setting sun. His hair falls softly in ringlets of brown and gold around his handsome face.
“Hello, I am Javi.” He introduces himself with a wide smile and open arms. You allow him to gather you into his broad chest, too stunned that this is happening to even introduce yourself properly. You mumble your name against him.
His scent fills your nostrils—citrus and the ocean breeze—and you breathe it in greedily. Too soon he lets you go and steps back. A look of deep concern fills his chocolate brown eyes as he considers you carefully.
“Erin said maybe you want to leave.” His deep voice is so gentle and soothing. “It is ok if you do, but I hope not.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
His brow furrows in confusion. “Say what? That I would be sad not to get to fuck you?”
“You don’t… really want to do… that with me. It’s ok.” Your cheeks heat as you stutter your answer.
“Of course I want to, why would I not want to? You are so beautiful. Bonita.”
“No I’m not, you don’t want this,” you gesture towards yourself, your tummy, your ass.
“I do want this. What is wrong with this?” He looks genuinely confused. “May I touch you, bonita?”
“I… I guess.”
He takes your hand and brings it to his lips then trails kisses up your arm. You shiver as his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin.
“¡Que linda! So beautiful and soft,” he murmurs as he gets to your shoulder, dropping your arm and placing his hands on your waist. “Why would I not want more of you to fill up my hands?” He slides his hands around to your ass, bringing your fronts together. You can feel his length hardening between you and your mouth falls open in surprise. He squeezes your ass, “This. You. Are beautiful. And I do want to fuck you. Te deseo, bonita.”
He closes the distance between you to press a kiss on your mouth, currently open in shock. He teases your lips and chin as his hands knead your ass, pulling you against him. One hand travels up to palm your breast. He finds the hard point of your nipple and you gasp as he pinches it.
“Do you not want the cameras because you do not think you are beautiful, bonita?” he whispers against your skin as he drags his angular nose along your jawline.
You nod as you whimper. The idea of watching yourself like that… it makes your insides churn. You just knew when you saw the question in the paperwork that you would never want to watch it, so why record it?
He pulls back and holds your gaze intently. “It is your choice, por supuesto. But I hope I can make you feel beautiful tonight. With me. Will you stay?”
His smoldering gaze is hypnotic and you find yourself replying, “Yes, I’ll stay.”
“Bueno, this makes me very happy.” The smile that lights up his face confirms his words.
You find yourself smiling back, your insecurities taking a backseat to the fizzy excitement now bubbling through your veins. His joyful presence is contagious.
Javi returns to your mouth, no longer in teasing nips, but with intent as he draws you into a deep kiss. His tongue slides against yours with languid, knee-weakening strokes. He leads you backwards until you feel the bed against the backs of your legs and directs you to sit. With your head tilted back, he continues to explore your mouth, standing between your legs, his large hands cradling your face.
He steps back and pulls his tank top over his head. He moves to return to your kiss, but you stop him with your hands on his chest. You have to see him, touch him, this beautiful man you’ve fantasized about so many times.
“You’re gorgeous, Javi,” you whisper reverently as you drag your palms down his golden chest, delighting when his nipples pebble under your fingers.
“Gracias, bonita,” he chuckles softly. His fingers trace your jaw and the shell of your ear as you explore his body. “Undo the tie,” he murmurs as your fingers trace the edge of his trousers. You can already see the shape of him through the thin material, straining to be released.
You bite your lip and Javi groans, “Fuck. Those lips, ay, son deliciosos.”
Carefully, you tug at the drawstring knot, it gives way, and his pants slide down his beautiful legs, revealing the full glory of his nakedness to you. His cock bobs in front of you and your mouth waters at the site. You shift, squeezing your legs together at the ache building at your center.
His glorious length, hard… for you. It boggles your mind.
“It’s so sexy, you looking at me like that,” Javi growls. “I can’t wait to fuck you with this cock.” He strokes himself in front of you. He’s so thick it sends shivers up your spine.
You look up at him and lick your lips. “Can I taste you, Javi?” The boldness of the request surprises you even as the words escape your mouth. You’ve become brave so quickly in the presence of Javi’s obvious desire.
“Absolutamente. Whatever you want. I am here for you.” He smiles down at you as he stands in front of you next to the bed.
You take him in your hand and stroke lightly from root to tip, then bend over to retrace your path with your tongue. Javi’s approval rumbles in his chest as you lick and taste your way along him, ending with a swirl of your tongue over the head of his gorgeous cock. Grasping him firmly in one hand you draw him between your lips.
Javi caresses your neck and cheek as you pump him into your mouth. You close your eyes and focus on remembering the salty taste of his skin on your tongue. You never want to forget.
You lose yourself in the rhythmic action, stroking him with your hand in time with your mouth until your jaw aches. You pull back to catch your breath only to have his mouth on yours again.
“Your turn, bonita,” he practically growls into your mouth. “I need to taste you. Por favor. Lo necesito.”
You remove your clothes with his help. You want to look down, away from his face, so you don’t see his reaction to you, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. What you see looking back at you is pure lust and desire.
Goosebumps rise over your skin at the intensity of it, your nipples pebble and your pussy throbs.
“So soft,” he whispers reverently, cupping your breasts. He squeezes and moans before taking your nipple in his mouth. He presses you back, so you’re laying on the bed. Out of habit, your arms move to cover your body, to somehow make yourself smaller.
“Don’t hide from me, bonita.” Javi gently takes your wrists and pins your hands out to the side. “Let me see you. You are so beautiful. Quiero verte.”
Sincerity shines from his kind eyes. You take deep breaths and relax. You want to trust him.
He kisses your lips then travels down your neck, sucking at your pulse point and making you gasp. He gathers your breasts in his large hands and nuzzles into them before taking each peak in his mouth. He travels across your belly, licking and nibbling at your roundness, before grasping your thighs in his hands and licking a broad swipe up your slit.
You moan as his warm mouth envelopes your cunt and his tongue nudges at your sensitive bud. “Delicioso,” he groans between licks. He slips a finger inside you, and you instinctively roll your hips into him.
Him stroking you inside and out is divine, and you try to sink into the sensations and just enjoy, but a thought keeps worming its way back in. Your mind won’t let it go, so you clear your throat, “Um Javi? I need to tell you something.”
“What is it, sweetheart? Are you ok? Do you not like it?” he kisses the inside of your thigh, looking worried.
“No no, it feels so good, don’t stop. I just… I… fuck…” you lose focus, distracted as he resumes dragging his fingers in and out of your pussy, circling your clit with his thumb.
“I have read your papers, have you changed your mind about something?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just… I’ve never… come with a partner.”
“Hmm,” he murmurs into your skin, continuing to stroke you, “Do you come when you watch me?”
“Every time,” you moan as his fingers find a spot deep inside that makes your arch off the bed.
“Then we will see. It is ok if you do not.”
“I want to. With you.” You do, so so badly.
It’s something you’ve thought about a lot. It could be a matter of skill, but you can get yourself off alone just never with a partner. You have a suspicion that how you feel about your body might be the reason. None of your partners have ever said anything to make you feel badly, but you haven’t exactly let them appreciate you either, assuming that they wouldn’t.
You cover yourself, turn off the lights, only partially undress, in the hopes that a partner won’t notice what you look like. As if they haven’t been looking at you in all the moments leading to the bedroom.
But Javi didn’t let you do that. In this bright room, you bared yourself to him and he said you were deliciosa.
“You have my word, I will try very hard,” he places his free hand over his heart, sealing his promise with a nod, making you giggle. “And we have things to help, if you need them. It is ok. I will take care of you.”
“Thank you, Javi, oh…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Javi dives back into your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth and making your hips jerk.
You decide to believe him and work to clear your mind. Your eyes drift close as you focus on the pleasure he is pulling out of you. His warm tongue strokes wide and firm, circling your clit in determined strokes. You let your body respond how it wants. Your hips rock into him with each stroke of his tongue, seeking that perfect pressure. It feels amazing.
But you don’t come.
Before you can get frustrated, Javi kisses his way back up to your tits and gathers them in his palms. “Look at you in my hands,” he moans, mouthing at your soft flesh, swirling his tongue around each nipple. You take the opportunity to run your fingers through his silky hair, twirling one curl and then another.
He groans in appreciation when you tug slightly. The sound goes straight to your core.
He looks up at you with a wicked grin. “Roll over, bonita.”
He rolls you on to your stomach, kneeling across your outstretched legs. He gently smacks your ass cheek, sending ripples through your body. You gasp and your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Yesssss,” he hisses and he smacks you again. “Look how you bounce for me.”
He takes handfuls of your ass cheeks and kneads and squeezes them together. Suddenly you feel his cock slide through the cleft of your ass. You try to twist to see him but can only get glimpses of him staring down at you, slack jawed and wrecked.
Your body is making him look like that. It makes you feel powerful, and you wish you could watch him enjoy you. For the first time, you regret not allowing the cameras.
“Fuuuck,” Javi growls, sliding his cock between your ass cheeks. You whimper and whine pinned underneath him. “I could come like this, bonita, you feel so good.” He lets your ass cheeks fall apart and smacks them again before gathering you back up around his cock. “So juicy and plump. Fucking amazing.”
You’re drenched with arousal and unable to relieve any of the pressure.
“Fuck me, Javi, please,” you beg.
“Sí, bonita, I will fuck you,” he growls.
Javi scoots back and rolls you over then wedges himself between your legs.
Taking his cock in hand he glides himself through your slippery folds, nudging at your clit with each stroke. You whimper as he teases you until he notches himself at your entrance.
He eases himself into your channel. He’s a lot to take and works his way in gently, watching your face for signs of discomfort.
You let out a guttural moan as he bottoms out in your cunt. “So good Javi, you’re so big. Fuck, I’m so full.” The stretch of him is glorious.
He pistons his hips slowly at first as you both savor the drag of him through your walls. Gradually he speeds up until he’s slamming his hips into you.
Every thrust reverberates through your body. Your breasts and tummy wobble, but you don’t try to stop them.
“Look how you bounce when I fuck you,” Javi groans, continuing his relentless pace, “ it’s so sexy.” His fingers dig into your thighs as he presses you open.
“Yes Javi, more… yes… please.” You beg nonsensically as your orgasm begins to sparkle at the edges of your awareness.
“You need to be filled up, don’t you bonita? You need to be stretched around this cock. That’s it. Fuck. You feel so good.” He moves a hand in between your bodies to circle your clit and you cry out.
“I think I’m close, Javi,” you whine. He circles your clit faster continuing to drag his thick cock in and out of you.
“Let go, bonita. Let me see it.”
You tip over the edge, an edge you have never found with a partner before, but you’ve never felt so desired with a partner before and so free in your body. Javi’s skill with his cock and mouth and fingers is unparalleled for sure, but what does it is the look in his eyes and his filthy words when he fucks you.
He has made it so clear that his arousal is not despite your body, but because of it. And he made you believe it too.
“Bonita?”
“Mmmm?” you mumble as you come back into your body, the aftershocks of your orgasm spacing farther and farther apart.
Javi is next to you, holding the back of your hand up to his lips as he peppers it with kisses.
“I have a question.”
“What is it?” you crack one eye open.
“Can I go get Erin to set up some cameras? For the next one?” he asks, eyes wide and hopeful.
You bite your lip as a shy smile spreads across your face. “Yeah, ok.”
“Deliciosa.” He smiles in return before bounding out of the bed towards the door, leaving you giggling on the bed.
You stretch out while you wait for him to return, feeling more at home in your body than you have in a long time. You wiggle your fingers and toes and smile to yourself. The next one is going to be fun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
Translations:
Deliciosa/o/son deliciosos – delicious, they are delicious
Bonita – beautiful
Que linda – how beautiful/pretty
Te deseo – I desire you
Por supuesto – of course
Bueno – good
Gracias – thank you
Absolutamente – absolutely
Lo necesito – I need it
Quero verta – I want to see you
Good. Things. Take. Time. is a series that grew out of prompts–the whisper of a character, the asks of readers. And now, to get myself back into PATS’s head, the prompts are coming from @fanfticionoverload’s Seasons of Life challenge.
What you’re about to read are some excerpts from Patricio’s journal. Heads up they probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the ongoing series.
Each excerpt is just that–snippets that pertain to the story, taken from his presumed wider journal, each notated where it lands in the series and follows the chronology of the series.
The rules of the challenge ask for 250 words per prompt. I thought it would be a little less forced if I didn’t worry so much about that, so some may fall short of that number. And I’ll say that these aren’t heavily edited nor are they anything other than basic reactions, precisely because I wanted them to feel like the unfiltered thoughts one writes in a journal.
Let’s say that it was Shell’s orders for him to keep a journal in the first place. If his practice is his way of dealing with his demons, if he’s not going to go to traditional therapy, then “the least you can do is just offload before bed, and not the kind of offloading you do with your dick. I’m not gonna read it, but I’ll want to see words on those pages. Write a fucking play for all I care, write a manifesto about your love of pasta, I don’t give a shit what. Just write.”
I don’t have anything to write. I’m not a fucking poet. Shell says use the pen, get the words out of your head, just write anything. Anything. Anything. Tables have turned. Now I’m the one practicing letting it all out. Trying not to think too hard.
Anything.
EXCERPT 1: SNOW
TIMELINE: a few days before Good. Things. Take. Time.
…
#39 gifted me four tickets to the game at her last session. It’s Neils’ birthday. I’ll surprise him and Dan with a guy’s night out.
Got a new client coming in on Thursday. #48. I wasn’t going to approve her. Nothing in her application hints at any lingering trauma that she can’t just get treated at a legit clinic. But Shell was pushy about this one. She's got a knack for these things and hasn’t been wrong yet. Official referral diagnosis: pain is psychological tension from a recent(?) divorce. I guess it’s worth a shot. If nothing else, divorcees are usually just in need of a good fuck so it’s an easy fix. Good photo. I like her style. She’s going to make pretty faces.
Thinking about taking some time off after that. Rare confluence of three clients ending their run at the same time, it’s slow season at the office and the guys can handle a week without me, I should get out of town. Someplace quiet. Or fuck, I don’t know, someplace distracting where I can get out of my head. Maybe I should book a massage. Look at me, I’m hilarious. Who massages the masseuse? I’ll have Shell find me something. Keep it interesting. Place yer bets: seedy and cheap or golden toilets and happy endings? As long as it’s somewhere warm.
Renee posted the pictures from her honeymoon. Skiing in the Alps. She always used to hate the snow. Guess people change. Change can be a good thing.
She’s better off.
___
EXCERPT 2: SCARF
TIMELINE: The night of Good. Things. Take. Time.
…
Shell hit the jackpot on this one. Perfect plaything. She’s like I custom ordered a client. Recurring cluster knots all down her starboard teres major, needs a hand getting in under the port shoulder blade…can’t do it alone. Needs my hands. She needs me. Follows directions, trusts completely. Has a good imagination. That will open up more in time. I expect a challenge out of this one. Surprised the shit out of me with the beautiful thing though. Maybe shouldn’t have let her have that. Maybe shouldn’t have gone down on her. It’s fine. She’s clean. Tastes good smells good ass for days. I can get a good handful. Everywhere.
And perfect inside. Tight but not too tight, good control with the right assistance, takes direction like a dream. I’ll be able to get her to sing if she keeps listening. Mierda, her skin. My hands want to eat it. Oil it up and map it out and scarf it down. Her muscle structure is -just- amazing. I haven’t been this amped in months. This one hits the spot.
Giving her Thursday across the board might have come off too eager. Well, if that didn’t, offering up extra days on call probably did. Jackass.
Not gonna worry about that tonight. Bowling with the guys tomorrow night. Hope they’re ready to eat their damn balls. I’m fucking invincible.
She called me beautiful. She’s [sentence scratched out]
Forgot to note in her file–she said she hasn’t had anyone make her come in over a year even though info says she’s only been divorced a few months. What kind of an asshole just walks away from that her? How could anyone share a bed or a house or anything with that and resist for a year? She deserves to get fucked every day. Why wouldn’t you want someone that just falls into you so willingly and fucks so pretty? Great. Now I’m angry. Not my concern. Just my gain.
___
EXCERPT 3: COZY
TIMELINE: weekend evening, after installment #2, relieving period cramps
…
Keep thinking about Thursday. It’s not about the blood. It is and it isn’t. It’s obviously that she needed relief. It’s good to see her trusting. That can be tricky for some women. Beaten into them that they have to hide what their body does. It’s a body. It’s a unique mechanism. It has shit and blood and needs a good release now and then. Or every day for some people...another truth for some of us that the world wants hidden away.
The blood’s messy. It’s primal. It’s brutal and nobody blinks an eye if it comes from a punch to the face or a slice of the thumb. But the minute it comes from the minute it shows you what a woman’s body is capable of… But it’s also the harshness of the color, a signal that if there’s pain then it’s real. It’s a helpful focus.
She just LETS me. There's beauty in that pliability. She trusts, she follows, she heals. The way her face just relaxes when the knots are gone. It’s almost as good as the orgasm itself. Beautiful.
Got her all warmed up in the bath, all cozy in bed. Fell asleep like a worn-out kitten and I had an urge to kiss her forehead. Poor thing just needed it today. Successful session.
___
EXCERPT 4: FIREPLACE
TIMELINE: a couple of weeks later, evening, after installment #3, the treatment for migraine and anxiety AND includes this six sentence ficlet
…
Well shit. There’s a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.
Thursday came in tonight tight as a screw, migraine a good 7 or 8. I had to take it slow. Asked her to focus on some bright spots in her life, like her favorite things. I might have guessed the animals and reading, but the fanfiction was a surprise. Cute. It was best not to talk about what was causing the stress because
Her family coming to stay.
Fuck if I don’t sympathize.
Mama got here two days ago and all she can do is complain about her hotel and American food and how everyone speaks too fast for her to keep up. It’s cold here. The hotel should have a fireplace. Why don’t you take time off Patricio? You have an extra bedroom, why can’t your mama sleep there?
I love her. But I get it. There are just some boundaries that are hard. I get you, Thursday.
Preciosa.
Fucked her five ways til Sunday. She fucked ME five ways till Sunday.. She drew blood. Didn’t even care. Mark me up, girl. Glad I could help, but damn that might have been more mutually beneficial than I’d originally planned.
___
EXCERPT 5: HOT CHOCOLATE
TIMELINE: night of installment #4, with the undergarment ripping and the thigh-highs
…
I didn’t expect to get to play this much. I’m usually so focused on the pain and making sure the client can come in their condition that there’s not a lot of room for fun and surprises. I got to take Shell out last weekend and might have bought her too many beers and pull-tabs. It took her about three bottles to get profound. She wants to know who "therapies the therapist" and told me I should remember that it’s okay to put my own priorities first sometime. She said that people in the industry of care need to be taken care of too. She said it’s okay to have a client that gives as good as she gets. Then she went home and threw up and texted me the next day that she’s drinking nothing but hot chocolate from now on. Haha
Shit. Thursday feels good when she walks out of here. She looks like a million bucks. I did that. I DO that. THAT’s what I need. So yeah. Why shouldn’t I enjoy that? Cute tonight. She wanted me to rip her panties. All she had to do was ask, but I think she was embarrassed to?
So the new diagnosis is lack of confidence and the treatment is for her to speak up for what she wants. We’re going to get her to a place where she can ask–or demand what she needs. We’ll work on her trusting that I’ll give her anything she wants–anything.
She’ll be able to walk out of here and conquer the world when I’m done with her.
___
EXCERPT 6: FREEZING
TIMELINE: a couple of weeks after the previous entry
...
[….] and Niels can go to hell though because I don’t care how low key it is or how good the whiskey is, I’m not giving up my Thursdays to fill in the hole in his poker night. His basement is freezing and I have warmer places to be.
Although speaking of, Thursday canceled again. It’s been a couple of weeks. Crunch time at work for her I guess. Her portal messages seem pretty stressed. She’s apologetic about missing sessions. I can tell her she doesn’t need to apologize, I’m getting paid whether she shows or not. And honestly, it just means we’re going to have to work that much harder to get her malleable again and I can hardly complain about that. A build up’s a hell of a thing. As long as she doesn’t mess up her rhombs again. We were just making headway on that. I should ask her about her desk chair.
But I’d be lying if I said that I gave a shit about the pay. I’m allowed to enjoy my clients and be disappointed when I don’t get to see them.
At least Jean’s back on Friday. It will be nice to see her again. Now that her latest surgery’s all healed up, we can find her some good positions for her to take home. I know her partner’s skittish about the discovery phase. But she’s almost done and when the reconstruction’s over, he’ll thank me for it. He SHOULD thank me for it, she’s got a good laugh and good tits.
Jean’s a perfect example of learning to speak up for herself. I can do the same for Preciosa. Lucky for her she doesn’t have Jean’s level of pain to work through. But she’s gotta show. up. for. it. Come on, girl. I got you.
___
EXCERPT 7: MARSHMALLOW
TIMELINE: directly after installment #5, all pent up and feral
…
Now THAT. Was a successful fuck. We’re making headway here. Little slapping, little biting, she got a good few hair yanks in there. She’s learning that not only am I not a marshmallow…neither is she. Good girl. Pretty high praise response, but she’s also got a little fight in her. She’s a switch and doesn’t even know it. She will.
There were some real emotions tonight, real anger, real tears. But when she let go I nearly wept myself. It was beautiful. She’s working too hard and she knows it. But she also knows I’ve got her when she does. Hopefully that will preempt some of the stress next time. Not even upset about that shoulder blade. We’ll just start from the beginning on that.
[....]
Just reminded me of Renee nagging about working too hard. I just remembered that I had a dream about her a few nights ago. Not really about her. She was in the background somewhere and not even angry that I didn’t stop to say hello. Then she picked up her purse and left. The light kind of shifted like, I don’t know. Felt like it was the last time I’d see her. Not in a bad way.
It’s good. Like a door really closing.
Maybe I do work too hard. But I like it. It’s who I am. It’s my choice.
ADIRA. Ma'am. I inhaled this as soon as it dropped and then a few times after that. I love the inner dialogue, how you can see him trying to convince himself of certain things and his observations.
PATS will forever live in my brain. Thank you for creating and sharing this, it's utter perfection.
Thought I'd compile a list of some of my favorite Pedro-boy fics.
Thank you to all the fic writers in the Pedro fandom, you're writing is always so fantastic and hot!
Favorite Writers:
@littlemisspascal
@the-ginger-hedge-witch
@charnelhouse
@oonajaeadira
@honestly-shite
Favorite Fics:
A Girl Walks Into A Bookshop (Ezra x Reader) by @oonajaeadira
The Locksmith (Thief x Reader) by @oonajaeadira
Death and an Angel (Death!Din x Cupid!Reader) by @littlemisspascal
The Infinity Cube (Marcus Pike et al x Reader) by @littlemisspascal
Notes on Tutoring (Dave York x Reader) by @honestly-shite
Driving Mr. Tovar (Pero Tovar x Reader) by @sirowsky
Stranger At My Gate (Pero Tovar x Reader) by @leslie-lyman
Honestly there's probably more than that, but I'm coming back to the PPCU fandom after a long hiatus, so I'm still trying to find old (and new) fics that I love.
Listen, not only can you scream and/or cry (whether you're American or not because I'm French and I'm shocked whenever fascism wins), but you can also come to me for unlimited hugs. I'm not very good at finding words of comfort, but I'm good at listening and giving love. Let me be your safe space 🧡
This was Dieter Bravo’s first starring role, and it’s perfectly apropos that the only copies still available in 2024 are on VHS. While there has been a resurgence lately of transferring remastered films to DVD and Blu-ray, I think it’s better that this one stays right where it is.
Bravo stars as titular character Gabriel Messenger (an overt reference to Christian theology and the angel which brought Mary the joyful news about her impending baby Jesus), which makes it all the more strange that Bravo delivers his lines in a dead-flat monotone laced with his original Boston accent. Gabriel is tasked with riding his messenger bike all over New York City to deliver letters, culminating in a meet-cute when he nearly knocks a girl over with his bike and they instantly fall in love. In the shuffle, the two starry-eyed teens accidentally switch messenger bags, and Bravo has to retrace his steps in an attempt to find both the girl and the bomb he was carrying.
Just when you’re starting to wonder how many more hours a 38-minute film can last, the preachy film takes a wild left turn into soft porn: Bravo finds the girl, disarms the bomb, and the film ends with an everything-but-the-genitals, soft-focus, 8 minute sex scene set to an extended saxophone version of “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred.
Please don’t make me watch this ever again. 🙏
***
Fake movie titles starring Dieter Bravo - come play!!
I keep thinking about Din as the head chef at an extremely high-end, excessively luxurious restaurant. I keep thinking about how he'd be intensely focused, how his dishes would always come out perfect and how people would travel very far -and pay an exorbitant amount of money- to eat his food.
He'd barely every come out of the kitchen, but you'd know its his food.
He'd have an army of sous-chefs, the work would be gruelling and just mentioning the name of his restaurant would fill any space with prestige- everyone would know how hard it is to make it there. Here there is an ocean of difference between a brunoise and a dice.
He's a lot more quiet than you're expecting when you finally meet him though. In the back of your mind you're expecting a Gordon Ramsey nightmare but he isn't. He's handsome in a quiet, intense way and it surprises you even more when he takes a shine to you. Part of you thinks its insane but you see your conversations translate onto the pages of his menu.
An offhand comment about preferring crème brulée to burnt basque cheesecake results in the switch on the page but what you don't know is this is his way of connecting with you. His menus are his love letters, and they're all for you.
This is SO up my alley @just-here-for-the-moment! I had a story idea like this for Dave but Din could work really well! @juletheghoul amazing as always <3
I struggle to make my characters fully rounded people, they all end up sounding like me! Do you have any advice on how to establish them better from the get-go?
Hey 🦓! Oooh, this one is hard for me, too. I’m working on a novel right now where I’m worried that the two MCs from completely different worlds both sound like me… but my main beta reader says they’re distinct, so apparently I’ve done enough of a good job? 😉
But here’s what’s helped me tackle this problem…
Know Thy Character: As you’re outlining or jotting notes about the characters, do some background work on them. Not all of this will end up directly in the story (and sometimes not any of it!) But in general, know when and where your character was born, where they grew up, what level of education they have, how much they read and what they read, whether they use curse words or not, how they would conduct themselves in a professional workplace, how they would sound letting loose with their friends, how they might sound when they’re drunk, whether they’re in a job that has its own jargon, stuff like that.
You don’t have to do all of this, or write a whole novel about each character’s backstory, but knowing 3-4 key things about each of your characters will definitely help.
This is really good advice for those of us struggling with this! Head over to this blog and ask your question - it's like having a personal writing consultant 💝
Today marks the 3rd anniversary of my fic The Infinity Cube. I can still remember posting the first chapter, hoping at least one person out there liked it, and I can still remember how it felt to reach the end, a feat that wouldn't have been possible without the support of so many kind souls 💗 I wanted to make something for the occasion and having seen so many amazing web weavings out there, I thought I'd give it my best shot 😊
THE INFINITY CUBE: a journey home
Shades of Earth by Beth Revis // I Choose You by Adam Melchor // When Did It Happen? by Mary Oliver // First Love by Jennifer Franklin // The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde // The Bronze Horseman by Paullina Simons // The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman // 10 a.m Is When You Come To Me by Louise Bourgeois // Maybe In Another Universe, I Deserve You by Gaby Dunn // Maybe When the Time is Right You Will Find Me Again - K. Tolnoe // We Were Missing the Present by Mahmoud Darwish // Persona (1966) // Matched by Ally Condie // In the Pines by Alice Notley // It Wasn't Love // La Pointe Courte (1955) // "My better half" by Pablo J. Davis // The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller // Bioshock Infinite // Calling a Wolf a Wolf by Kaveh Akbar // Oh It Was Meant to Be - Kate McGahan // Pillow Thoughts by Courtney Peppernell // If My Body Could Speak by Blythe Baird // Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens // Unending Love by Rabindranath Tagore // The Blinding Star by Blanca Varela // Wild Spirit, Soft Heart by Butterflies Rising // Finding You by Kesha // Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths // Web weaving about the untold story in you // "Feel like making a deal with the devil?" // A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara // Reborn: Journals ad Notebooks by Susan Sontag // I love you like a rotten dog // Sax Rohmer #1 by The Mountain Goats // The Bubble (2022) // Rabbit Hole (2010) // Beginning with O by Olga Broumas // How many times can the same thing break your heart? // War of the Foxes by Richard Siken // On Death in Heartbreak // Lonely Day by System of A Down // This Road (The Mirror is a Trap) by Poe // Memory for Forgetfulness by Mahmoud Darwish // "Do you think we're soulmates in another universe?" // Radio Silence by Alice Oseman // "In one timeline we kiss" - Elizabeth Hewer // Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed // Almond Blossoms and Beyond by Mahmoud Darwish // X // The Collected Poems of Alvaro de Campos by Fernando Pessoa // Excerpt from Moony Moonless Sky's 'I am an observer, but not by choice' // @/lookoflove // Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinberg // "Do you know what it's like to live somewhere that loves you back?" - Danez Smith // Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros // The Chaos of Stars by Kiersten White // Home // You and Me
All Pedro Photos - Pinterest // Reader in my story is physically a blank slate, I just really like the photo of Javi + Gabriela touching foreheads
Summary: One wrong call led to this, that instead of your boyfriend, it's your professor who picks you up from the party.
Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of drugs and alcohol, use of drugs (by reader), being under the influence of drugs, protective!Joel, angst, professor-student relationship, age gap (not specified), kinda perv!Joel(??? idk you'll judge), blowjob, pussy eating, cheating (kinda), protected PIV (he had a vasectomy), creampie, dom!Joel, no-outbreak AU, Sarah’s alive and happy, dubcon kinda?
Wordcount: 8,1k
An: Hiii, I would like to ask you to read the warnings before reading. If you are comfortable with the topic of drugs, angst and sex under the influence, I invite you to read and I hope you enjoy it. Meal is a meal and professor Miller is professor Miller so… this is just a good shit.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3
Music I worked with: Make You Mine - Madison Beer
Masterlist
The music was getting louder in your ears. Pushing through the sweaty, dancing people was becoming more and more of a challenge. Everything was starting to spin. You needed some fresh air.
The pills you took didn't work as they should have. Maybe you drank too much before, maybe you had a bad day, or maybe the guy had some shitty stuff.
Your lungs started to collapse more and more as you tried to take another breath. You panicked. You started pushing through the crowd faster and more aggressively. They didn't give a shit about you as much as you didn't give a shit about them.
Here, everyone lived their own life. Everyone had fun. You wanted too.
Until now.
A silent scream tried to escape you as you began to gulp air. You couldn't breathe any other way. You were getting weaker and weaker. Everything was getting hazy. The music was getting less and less distinct. Everything was like behind thick glass.
And right in the middle, in a little glass box, was you. Locked away with no access to oxygen and no cry for help.
You were alone.
Just when you thought the crowd would swallow you, you saw the door. A light at the end of the tunnel.
Something inside you, some instinct, forced your legs to move towards the exit. Your body acted as if it was programmed, like you weren't the one controlling it. Some greater force was moving you like a puppet.
The same force made the mysterious man appeared in front of you. You stopped, frowning and trying to focus your vision to identify his identity. But his face was blurry. Just like the touch of his arms, which wrapped around you to stop your body from falling.
"You've had enough for now," he said, slightly amused, and began to pull you towards the exit. You knew him. His voice was like a breath of fresh air and his arms gave you a false sense of security. You liked that voice. You liked the feeling that allowed you to take a moment to rest amidst the chaos around you and inside you.
"Call Joel," you mumbled indistinctly.
You reached your hand into the back pocket of your jeans and tried to pull out your phone a few times, but your strength disappeared. You couldn't even bring yourself to clench your fingers around this damn thing.
You were helpless and barely conscious, which made tears appear in your eyes.
Why did something like this have to happen when you finally wanted to break free and needed it more than anything else?
Why couldn't you have fun like the rest of them for once?
Why was it always you who got screwed?
"What's your password?" The pleasant male voice spoke again.
You frowned, closing your eyes as you tried to force yourself to think, or worse – say it out loud. The wind blow across your heated skin, making you shiver. You were freezing cold despite it being the middle of summer.
You felt bad and it was getting worse with every passing minute.
"Four zeros," you managed to choke out and looked around shakily. You were standing at the top of the stairs leading to the house.
When had you two left? You didn't register that moment.
The arm around your waist dug harder into your flesh as your knees buckled beneath you. You gasped, trying to keep your weight on the unstable sticks which were your, not so useful right now, legs.
The slightest gust of wind, or even a slight tilt of your head, made you swung like a blade of grass in the wind.
The feeling of falling sent panic through the corners of your brain, but your eyelids continued to droop heavily, blocking your vision. You braced yourself for the pain that was about to dull the rest of your senses, but all you felt was something hard under and behind you. After a moment, a cold sensation appeared around your head, which brought you no small amount of relief.
You purred with pleasure, snuggling closer to the metal railings by the stairs. Your friend looked down at you with concern before he went back to searching for the right contact in your phone.
And that's when the first problem appeared.
You had two phone numbers saved the same way.
Joel.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath and selected the first contact.
Seconds passed, another ring sounded by his ear until automatic voicemail went off.
In that case, it had to be the second number, he thought. Since the first one was inactive, the second one had to be the good one, right?
Bull's eye.
After the third ring, a sleepy 'hello' sounded in the speaker.
"Hi, sorry to wake you up, but your girlfriend isn't in the best shape," he started immediately, glancing at your semi-conscious figure, cowering on the stairs. “’think she took some crappy stuff and is goin’ down the drain. She told me to call you. Can you come pick her up?”
There was silence on the other end.
A long silence.
A drawn-out silence.
He had to check phone to make sure the call was still going.
“Hello?”
“Give me the address.”
A quick exchange of the most necessary information ended the conversation. That was enough for Joel to appear in the district where the address was located in less than twenty minutes.
You were sitting cuddled in the arm of your friend, who was soothingly stroking your back. He didn't know if you had fallen asleep or if you were just that calm. He only hoped that you weren't struggling too much in your head after taking some shit. You weren't able to help him find out what and who you took it from.
His attention was drawn to the car that stopped in front of the house.
"Joel came to pick you up," he whispered with a smile and noticed that you woke up a bit at his words. You blinked a few times, raising your gaze.
"’s not that Joel," you mumbled.
He frowned, surprised by your reaction, and looked towards the man who just got out of the car and headed towards you.
At first, he couldn't recognize his face, but the closer he got, the clearer it became.
Indeed, he didn't look like your boyfriend. He was... too old to be in a relationship with you. He looked more like your father.
Maybe he was your uncle and he just got you into trouble? Damn it.
"You're not her boyfriend," he stated as Joel stopped by the stairs. His gaze was fixed on you and this sight definitely didn't satisfy him but he tried to didn't show it.
"Do I look like him?" he muttered unpleasantly and looked disapprovingly at the young boy who was holding you in his arms.
His silence was quite telling.
"What did she take?" he asked glancing at your barely conscious form.
"I don't–"
"Wonderful." The rough answer, silenced him effectively. "Did she have some stuff with her?" The next question only stressed the young boy out more.
"Are you her father or somethin’?" he asked, a bit skeptical of the older man.
"I'm her teacher," he replied, pressing his lips together tightly at the sight of you.
No one expected such an answer.
A quiet voice in your friend head blamed him for confusing the contacts and calling a strange guy instead of your boyfriend. What confused him more, was reason, why you had your teacher's number in your phone. And what was even more interesting, was why he picked up at such a late hour and decided to come pick you up.
"I–" he began, not very convinced by the fact that he had to hand you over to a strange guy who was your 'teacher'.
"I'll take her home," he cut him off firmly before he could express his distrust.
Without waiting for the boy to answer, Joel approached you and took your jaw in his hand. You frowned at the sudden movement, because your head was spinning in a bad way. Your gaze was absent as he tried to assess your condition.
Fact, you were in bad shape. He didn't even know if you were able to recognize him, which made the situation a bit more difficult.
"Sweetheart, tell me what you took," he said in a soft but firm tone.
You snorted sweetly, because his voice had a strangely soothing effect on your insides. You couldn't recognize his blurry face, but his touch was familiar. Warm, thick fingers that sent warm shivers through your body. You wanted to melt in his hand, and that's exactly what you did.
The entire weight of your head flew towards him, which made him tighten his grip, digging his fingers into your cheeks.
"Sweetheart..." he repeated softly to get your attention.
You opened your eyes with a blissful smile and tried with all your might to remember who those dark chocolate eyes belonged to. But it was his glasses that made a light bulb go off in your head.
“Just one blue pill, Professor,” you replied, causing relief from Joel and surprise from your friend.
"What are the blue ones for?" he asked, returning to his cold tone as he looked at the young boy.
"I– I don't know," he stuttered, frightened by sudden change in man’s behavior towards him.
"Then find out," he growled, nodding toward the house. Not a second had passed when the boy hurriedly disappeared behind the door.
Joel looked at you again with concern. You didn't look as bad as you had a moment ago. In fact, you looked like you were having a great time. Maybe you had a slightly wandering look, but the smile on your face and the sparkles in your eyes gave a misleading impression.
He knelt down in front of you with a quiet groan and looked at you from every side. There were no signs that anything bad had happened to you.
One stone from the heart. You were safe and sound. A little high, but healthy.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked and with his other hand he fixed the hair that was falling over your face. You watched his movements as if enchanted.
Everything had more vivid colors. His eyes were darker, deeper; you could drown in them. Every move he made seemed to play out in slow motion, giving you all the time you wanted to admire him.
"Joel Miller," you replied, smiling wider. "I didn't know you liked parties," you added before he could say anything. You threw him off balance with that.
He frowned, looking at you closely and he had to admit that he himself had once been young and had done a lot of... illegal things; that's why he decided to go in the direction you had imposed.
"I don't, but sometimes it happens and I end in places like this. I'm a little too old for such fun, you know?" he smiled gently, seeing that you were feeling better and better or the opposite – the drugs were starting to work.
"Just like me. But I'm young." You laughed charmingly, to which he laughed too and nodded. Your burst of energy was starting to worry him a little, but he'd rather that than you having a bad trip.
"So... since we're both not into parties, how about I take you home?"
He was treading thin ice to see if you'd cooperate with him. Unfortunately, your smile suddenly disappeared and he cursed in his mind.
"I can't, my parents think I'm at a friend's," you explained, rubbing your arm nervously.
Okay, that wasn't the answer that would put him in a bind.
"Then I'll take you to your friend's," he suggested but all he got in response was a negative shake of the head.
"She left."
That was already causing a bigger problem.
Joel tried to think quickly. All the possibilities flew through his head, choosing a few that he could test.
"Your friend said something about your boyfriend," he remembered, feeling that this was the way out of the whole situation. Your boyfriend, who was supposed to come here instead of him. At least that's what he concluded from the call he received.
"That asshole stood me up. He was supposed to come here with me, but he went with his friends to who knows where," you snapped, feeling furious at the jerk who dared to call himself your partner. Maybe you would regret this relationship if it wasn't for the fact that you were together for sex. Actually, apart from that, you didn't even like each other that much.
Despite that, he was good in bed, he took care of you at parties and other outings, and his name was Joel.
Exactly.
You were with him because you could shamelessly scream his name while you fucked, while really thinking about someone else. But that was your sweet secret. Sweet secret that held your jaw, staring at you through the lenses of his glasses.
"You don’t have anyone I could take you to?" he asked, increasingly helpless.
You smiled sweetly and shook your head in denial. "Nope."
A quiet sigh left his lips as he tried to think of a way out of this situation.
The worry in his eyes didn't match your current mood. You didn't like the fact that he was sad around you. You wanted to have fun, be happy, forget about all your problems for a moment.
"That's why I have to stay at the party until the morning," you said with a wide smile, at which he frowned.
"No," he ordered seriously, surprising you a bit. You rarely witnessed Joel addressing anyone like that. Especially you – his favorite. "I won't let you stay here when you're under the influence of some shitty pills."
"But–"
"No," he cut you off immediately. "I don't want to hear a word of protest. I'm your teacher even outside of working hours. I have to take care of your safety." His tone clearly indicated that he didn't want to hear your reasons for staying.
How could you argue with a man whose every word was sacred to you? Even if you wanted to, you couldn't because your friend came out of the house, catching your attention or at least Joel's attention, because yours was still focused only on him.
A smile bloomed on your face again as you could look at him with impunity.
Oh, he was handsome.
Deadly handsome for a man his age. Your father was younger than him and he looked much worse.
How was it even possible that you started to be attracted to a man older than your own father? You didn't know that, but you weren't going to delve into it because you liked the feeling he aroused in you.
"She took ecstasy." You heard from somewhere behind you before Joel looked straight into your eyes again as if he was looking for something. You didn't know for what, because he couldn't be looking for you; you were right in front of him.
"Come on, sweetheart," he sighed with a warm smile and slowly stood up. "I'll take you home, okay?" he suggested, holding out his hand to you.
You looked up at him with doe eyes and nodded silently. You didn't want him to be mad at you.
You didn't want to let him down so you politely gave him your hand and let him pull you up. It took a moment for your legs to get used to doing their duties again before you could fully stand on your own but despite that, Joel still wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you tightly to his side.
He didn’t want to risk you falling and cracking your head. Fate liked to play games with people and he had learned that the hard way many times. Way too many times.
Without any additional pleasantries, he led you to his car and sat you in the passenger seat. Your head was getting heavier as you tried to watch his movements; the way he fastened your seatbelt, the way he made sure you weren't sick, the way he ran his gaze down your body to make sure everything was okay.
But all he had to do was close the door and your eyelids closed by themselves. The car was quiet, nice and warm. You felt safe and the delicate scent of perfume he used only relaxed your muscles more.
Joel got into the car and before he drove away, he glanced at how you were trying not to let your eyelids fall. He sighed quietly, shaking his head in resignation and slowly drove out onto the street. Silence fell between you due to the fact that you had lost the fight with tiredness and simply fell asleep.
And at the same time he was struggling with his thoughts of what he should do. What was appropriate for him to do. He should have taken you home. Even if you were going to have a row after crossing the threshold. It was none of his business what happened to you after he got you to safety.
But another thought lurked in his mind. An idea that shouldn't have been there. Had no right to be there. Yet this thought overshadowed what was right.
Because Joel had long since admitted to himself that you were more important to him than the rest of the students. He had stopped denying how much he enjoyed sitting with you in his office in the evenings, helping you study. After many months of struggling with himself, he realized how much he appreciated your company, your attention, your smile, all of you.
That's why the thought of taking you home and witnessing the fight immediately slipped of off his mind.
He didn't want to cause you any trouble at home. The fact that he found you in such a state only proved that you had enough to worry about. Why would he give you more? He didn't like it when your pretty little head was filled with problems he couldn't help you with. But with what was happening now, he could help you.
That’s why after twenty minutes he stopped in front of his house.
You continued to sleep soundly, not worrying about anything anymore and he didn't have the heart to wake you up. You looked too innocent for him to interrupt your peaceful state of unconsciousness. The smudged mascara and a bit of glitter on your eyelids only added to your charm.
Joel really wanted to hate himself for the way his heart beat at the sight of you, but he couldn't. He couldn't hate the feeling you evoked in him. Because this feeling was good. Warmth spread across his chest and more wrinkles formed around his eyes from the wide smiles you caused in him.
You were like a ray of sunshine. Why would he hate the sunbeam that fell on him?
He knew he shouldn't feel this way. You were his student, the best he'd ever had the chance to teach. But he couldn't fight it. Not when you were pushing yourself into his arms. When you gave him your full attention. When your hand touched his every chance you got. He just couldn't.
That's why it didn't bother him at all to carry you home. Actually, he did it with all too much desire. He couldn't resist the feeling of holding you in his arms as your head rested peacefully on his shoulder.
The door closed behind him with a soft click as he slowly walked down the hallway. Darkness reigned everywhere after he was suddenly yanked out of bed. Now there wasn't much left of his desire to sleep.
He carefully opened the door to the guest room and tightened his arms a little as he walked with you over the threshold. As if to spite you, your phone began to vibrate, which made you grumble anxiously. He quickly laid you on the bed and reached into the back pocket of your pants. The bright screen forced him to squint as he tried to see who was calling you at this hour.
Joel.
He frowned, glancing at you and then back at the phone. Before he could think about his decision, he clicked the red receiver, rejecting the call and muted your phone, placing it on the cabinet next to it. Just in case, he did it in such a way that another incoming call wouldn't be visible.
Your quiet groan caught his attention so he didn't wait for you to wake up any longer and carefully started to take off your shoes; right after that, socks. He couldn't let you sleep uncomfortably after, what was probably a pretty lively, party. He felt that he had to take care of not only your safety but also your comfort, so that you could wake up in the morning without any consequences after tonight. And only because of that reason, his gaze wandered to your legs covered in jeans.
He cursed himself in his mind because of the ideas that started to come to his mind.
He couldn't.
He should leave you like this and go back to his bedroom.
He should have done it.
And yet, he leaned closer to you and gently stroked your cheek. "Sweetheart," he said quietly, wanting to wake you up.
Although there was at least that much common sense left in him.
He smiled fondly when he saw that you opened your eyelids a little with a grunt. "Lift your hips," he ordered and all he got in response was to do as he asked. No questions or comments.
Feeling the growing tightness in his chest, he unbuttoned your button and zipper. Deep down he knew how fucking wrong it was. But he couldn't fight it as his fingers began to slide the material of your jeans down your hips.
Another grievous sin was added to his mental list as his gaze fell on your underwear. The lump in his throat began to grow with every second his eyes were fixed on your black panties.
So damn plain black cotton panties.
Then why was this the sexiest sight in his whole life?
"Fuck," he cursed in a whisper and pulled your pants all the way down. Then your hips fell back onto the mattress with a quiet sigh.
He felt like a pervert, seeing you like this when you were on the edge of reality and dream so he forced himself to leave the room while he still could.
How long before he gave in?
It took a trip to the bathroom and his room.
Then he reappeared by the bed where you were lying half naked; with his old t-shirt in one hand and micellar fluid in the other. Having a daughter had many advantages, so he knew that falling asleep with makeup on was not something pleasant.
That's why for the next ten minutes he gently wiped your face with soaked cotton pads. He sat by your side, carefully wiped off the smallest traces of makeup and had to admit, that it was also refreshing even for him. A moment of silence helped him calm his thoughts, and the sight of your innocent face only confirmed that he had to take care of you. That was all that mattered now.
Until the moment you purred and delicate smile spread across your lips.
That was enough for a burning heat to appear in his chest again.
"This feels nice," you whispered in a slightly hoarse voice.
Joel was just finishing cleaning your cheek when your eyes began to stare at him. This time you didn't have a wandering gaze. You seemed... normal.
He quickly believed it because he wanted to believe it. He wanted you to be sober at the moment when you were closer than ever before. When you were in his house. Lying in his bed. On his sheets.
"How do you feel?" he asked, placing the cotton pad on the cabinet next to him, not taking his eyes off your shiny ones.
"Good." Your smile didn't disappear for a moment as you watched him carefully. You definitely weren't complaining about seeing him, but you wondered about other thing. "Where are we?" After that question, you looked around the dark room a bit. You didn't remember ever being in this place. It was too pretty here compared to the places you usually stayed.
"In my house," he replied, a bit afraid of your reaction.
Maybe he really should have taken you to your house despite the problems that were to come?
Maybe he went too far by bringing you to his place without your consent.
It's true that at university you were close, but it was always at the university. Never outside of it.
"It's nice here."
Your comment dispelled all his doubts. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath when a sigh of relief finally left his lungs.
"Do you need anything?" he asked, wanting to get back on solid ground.
Your presence of mind would allow him to pull himself together. All you had to do was say you were tired. That you wanted to go to sleep. That you wanted for him to leave you alone.
Anything that would indicate that he should go and leave you alone.
"Can I have a glass of water, please?" you asked, looking at him as if the request was too much to ask for.
You had already violated his hospitality. He had picked you up from a party in the middle of the night and brought you to his house. You were slowly starting to feel like an idiot.
"Of course," he nodded and left the room, leaving you alone.
You rubbed your face with your hand and slowly sat up. A penetrating feeling of shame crept into your head as you began to look at your thighs.
Did you undress yourself or did he undress you? You probably didn't want to know the answer to that question.
You felt like you'd already made a fool of yourself. You couldn't even tell if the drugs were still affecting you. You felt light, good, but your mind was starting to work differently. You didn't know what to focus on what to think. There were so many things happening that you should have been in control of right now and yet you sat there helplessly, staring at your flesh.
You came to the conclusion that you probably didn't have the strength to feel ashamed of what was happening now. You were too tired. Your mind wouldn't cooperate with you, so the best option was to face everything in the morning.
Despite your momentary sobriety, you still couldn't fight the feeling that was growing in your belly. Like a big warm ball was warming up your insides and giving you pleasure. That was the only reason you had a constant blissful smile on your face. It felt good. Focusing on that feeling was much more enjoyable than trying to think.
Joel returned a few minutes later with a glass of water, finding you dressed in his shirt and sitting on the edge of the bed with your head down. He swallowed hard, fighting the feeling the sight of you had stirred in him. He didn't want to admit what it was doing to him.
“Here,” he said, catching your attention. You looked up at him, your eyes so big and shiny that he had to clench his jaw to control his emotions. It wasn’t until a moment later that your gaze dropped to the glass in front of your face and, with a silent 'thank you', you took it.
In silence, he sat down next to you and watched as you took small sips. The cold water brought you some relief and tasted much better than usual. Only when you had drunk half a glass, you put it on the cabinet next to you and wiped your lips with the back of your hand. The silence echoed in your ears, making you focus more on the growing feeling of pleasure in your body.
You had to do something to not fall into this.
"I'm sorry," you said, starting to gently bite your lip. Despite the whole situation, you wanted to smile. "This wasn't supposed to be like this."
"And what was it supposed to be like?" His question made you look at him. Warmth radiated from him. He didn't seem angry. He didn't seem like he blamed you for your irresponsibility. It was a strangely pleasant change from what you usually experienced with your father.
You laughed quietly and looked down. “I don’t know,” you admitted, shrugging. You didn’t even know how to answer that question. Because what exactly did you expect? “I wanted to escape reality for a bit.”
“Aren’t there other ways to do it?”
“There probably are, but that was the only one I know of.”
You might be ashamed of it, but it was the truth. There was nothing in your life that would allow you to forget, even for a moment, all the shit that was going on around you.
You didn't want to think about it at a time when you felt light as a feather. You clenched your fists tighter into the mattress to hold back your smile because all you wanted to do was gasp while laughing at how good you felt.
Joel didn't seem to notice. He felt like you were struggling with negative emotions and he wanted so badly to help you get rid of the thoughts that were occupying your mind. You looked like you were at least physically in pain as your entire body tensed up as if searching for the slightest point of contact. Without thinking too much, his hand covered yours. You let out a shaky breath as his large fingers tightened around yours. It was a comforting gesture on his part, but to you it was like pouring gasoline on a fire. His touch was all you could focus on. The hot, large hand that was touching your small, cold one.
You began to tremble. Everything inside you began to crave more of that feeling, even though his hand alone was enough to make a moan die in your throat.
"I want to help you."
His offer hung between you like heavy clouds. His words had no second meaning, and yet you took it that way.
He wanted to help you. But how?
How could he make your mind stop running with tormenting thoughts?
You searched for the answer to this question in his eyes and even though this was an ordinary question, something else was lurking inside him. Something that you caught. Or at least that's what you thought.
However, thinking at a time like this wasn't working out very well for you. That's why you didn't know how your lips found their way to his. You couldn't remember when you got so close, pressing a strong kiss to his mouth.
You squeezed your eyes shut, frozen and waiting for his answer but Joel was in too much shock to do anything. Even breathing seemed like a superhuman ability now. That's why after the seconds dragged on, you pulled away with a sense of shame. Seeing the shock on his face, you really felt like an idiot but you couldn't control yourself. You didn't even know how on earth you decided to do something like that. How on earth did you decide to cross the sacred border.
"Professor, I'm sorry-" you tried to explain yourself but then his hand found its way into your hair, pulling you firmly only for him to initiate the kiss this time.
You moaned not expecting such a turn of events. His stubble pleasantly irritated your skin, sending waves of stars all over your body. A smile spread across your lips as his proximity began to stimulate you. Soft lips perfectly matched yours. Every kiss he gave you was like you had done it a thousand times before. His tongue was delicate and sweet, making you purr with pleasure. Every second of his closeness gave you more strength.
He and drugs were the most addictive combination you had ever had the opportunity to try. Apart from the fact that all your desires, that you had for this man for a very long time, were coming true.
Neither of you even thought about how fucked up it all was. You both wanted this too much to care about anything but each other's touch.
Even Joel started to feel like he was high. Your soft lips and quiet sighs gave him shivers of desire. He couldn't remember the last time his cock hardened as quickly as the moment your hand started to travel up his thigh.
He couldn't hold back a groan when your fingers gently tightened around the bulge in his sweatpants. The mere fact that he was so turned on by you, sent waves of arousal through every corner of your body. Heavenly feeling overshadowed all your senses.
“Please,” you whispered desperately into his mouth.
You felt his hand tighten around yours, making him moan, and you took that as an answer. You hooked your fingers around the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, silently asking him to take them off. And that’s exactly what he did, without thinking too much, he lifted his hips and slid everything in your way off of them. Your kisses became sloppier and deeper as your hand found its way to his cock again.
Cold fingers wrapped around his hot, throbbing friend. The skin-to-skin contact elicited a throaty groan from him.
He was thick. You could barely contain him as you slowly began to pump him, up and down, letting more precum wet his tip. You gently ran your thumb over his head to spread everything. His cock trembled in your hand, trying to escape the too intense feeling.
His fingers tightened on your hair and his lips stopped coordinating with yours. You smiled widely and synchronized your kisses with the movements of your hand. With your tongue, you collected all the moans that came out of him. Joel felt like he was in a trap that he didn't want to get out of. Your gentle kisses and touch were driving him to the limits of his self-control.
And any remaining control disappeared the moment you fell to your knees before him.
You settled comfortably between his thighs, licking your lips. Joel sighed at the sight and propped himself up on his hands, leaning back a bit to get a better view of the way a string of saliva flew out of your mouth. His cock didn't even have time to twitch at this feeling because his tip disappeared into your mouth.
“Oh fuck,” he inhaled loudly.
You didn't give him a chance to get used to your warm tongue before you swallowed him halfway. He winced at the sudden surge of pleasure and looked at you with his mouth parted. You began to work your head, taking him deeper with each pass.
You were determined to swallow him whole, despite what you were capable of. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do it, that you could do more for him than for others.
“That's right, baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth. Hearing the praise from his lips, you felt like you were capable of anything. And that's exactly what you did, swallowing him whole.
A loud moan bounced off the walls as your throat tightened around his tip. He thrust his hips, trying to go deeper, and you let him. You pressed your nose into his flesh, holding him completely in your mouth. Joel watched everything with delight. Every twitch of his cock causing your walls to tighten around him.
He tried to breathe calmly but he couldn't focus on anything except how wonderful it felt to feel your mouth on his dick. He preferred not to admit how many times he had seen this sight before his eyes when he masturbated. Now, when he was experiencing it firsthand, he felt like he was in heaven. His imagination couldn't even match up to how skillfully you drove him crazy.
You started to choke so you immediately pulled away from his crotch. A string of saliva was the only thing that connected you two as you raised a tearful gaze at him. Joel was breathing heavily as he stared at you with adoration. And even though he wanted to feel your lips around him again, he couldn't stop himself from feeling them on him again.
He leaned down, capturing your lips in a hard kiss and covered your cheeks with his hands, forcing you to stand up. You didn't resist his movements, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. His cock throbbed, hitting your lower abdomen, causing another wave of arousal to start leaking out of you.
You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, deepening the kiss and allowing yourself a moment to play with his tongue. Joel was more than willing to let you do whatever you wanted to him. He gripped your ass tightly, earning a moan from you.
The hot ball inside you turned into a real fire between your thighs. The feeling was starting to overwhelm you, forcing quiet squeals out of you as you rubbed against his hard cock over and over again.
You needed to get rid of this feeling.
You needed to relieve yourself of the pain of arousal.
“Please, I want you inside me.”
Your silent plea didn't have to wait long for his answer. In one movement, he turned you over, letting you fall onto the soft mattress. You gasped when he suddenly pulled away from you and practically ripped your panties off. All the wetness smeared across the inside of your thighs but Joel was too busy to notice. He squeeze your panties in his hand, feeling the black material was completely soaked and shamelessly inhaled your scent.
Your pheromones awakened things in him he didn't know existed. Like in a frenzy, he hid your underwear in the pocket of his sweatpants and blindly threw his glasses on the table. He didn't really care that they probably broke when you writhed in anticipation on the bed in front of him.
"I've been waiting ages to find out what you taste like," he said, more to himself than to you, and grabbed you tightly by the hips, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. Your breath caught in your lungs as his hands began to roam your body in a possessive way and right under your shirt.
But when his face disappeared between your legs, you couldn't take the tension anymore and you threw your head back with a moan. Just the feeling of his breath and the knowledge of how close he was to your pussy was driving you crazy. He didn't have to do anything at all to make you writhe under him.
Every muscle in your body tensed as you felt him start to lick everything that smeared on your thigh. You began to pant heavily, feeling as he got closer to his goal with every second. Until finally, he planted the wettest, deepest kiss on your slit. You moaned loudly, arching your back at the overwhelming feeling. His tongue ran along the length of your pussy and with a growl of satisfaction, he sucked on your clit.
Instinctively, you clenched your fists tightly on the sheets and tried to move your hips out of his reach, but his hands on your waist effectively stopped your movements.
The sting of his beard perfectly matched his agile tongue. You were shocked at how quickly a familiar feeling began to gather in your lower abdomen. You couldn't remember the last time someone had brought you to such a state.
You didn't know what was causing it. The drugs that were still circulating in your blood, your desire for him or his amazing abilities. It was also possible that all of them at once made your legs tremble.
You wanted to scream, squeal, tell him to stop, tell him to continue. You couldn't decide but he made the decision for you, pulling away and depriving you of your orgasm. You opened your eyes, searching for him with your gaze and you wanted to beg him to come back to his place.
Seeing your gaze, a smirk appeared on his face. Having you in such a state made him feel like a god. He had already forgotten what it felt like to have such power over someone, to experience someone looking at you with such desire as you did for him when he took away your opportunity to come.
"You'll come with my cock inside you," he decided.
You blinked a few times and closed your mouth in shock. It was the first time you had witnessed such a change in his behavior and you had to admit that you liked him even more this way. You loved his gentle nature that surrounded you every day but his possessive version aroused a wild desire in you.
You wanted to dig your nails into his flesh until it bled and beg him to come inside you so hard and deep that you would see stars. But instead of saying that, you nodded, barely able to say a quiet 'okay'.
Your answer satisfied him.
Your submission satisfied him.
Holding his cock stiffly, he positioned himself between your legs. You felt him right at your entrance and you shuddered, clenching around nothing. Joel looked with satisfaction at the mess that you were. Disheveled hair, shiny eyes, his shirt that now revealed more than it covered.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered affectionately at the sight of you.
Your breath caught in your throat when you locked eyes with him. But your eyes rolled back in an instant when his hands gripped your hips tightly and in one movement he pulled you to him, impaling you all the way on his cock. The cry that came out of you was the most animalistic sound he had ever heard. He shuddered with a moan feeling your tight pussy pulsating around him. He couldn't even experience this feeling in his dreams.
"I knew you'd be perfect," he gasped and slowly pulled out of you only to thrust hard back.
Another scream tore through your throat like fire but it didn't stop him from slowly setting the perfect pace for himself. The sound of flesh slapping flesh echoed through the room.
"Soaked, warm and tight."
He thrust harder and harder and you couldn't shake the feeling of him going so damn deep inside you. The arousal overshadowed the pain he was causing you. You weren't used to his cock. It was thicker and longer than the one you usually had inside you.
"Made especially for me," he growled, digging his fingers deeper into your hips.
You wrapped your hands around his wrists and dug your nails into them, silently begging for him to be more gentle.
You never expected someone like Joel to be so domineering in bed. In your fantasies, it was always you who was finishing him off, not him finishing you off.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” he panted, searching for your gaze until he finally found it, completely cock drunk. You winced as he thrust hard into you once again, not giving you a chance to catch your breath. He saw how bravely you were struggling with what he had given you, how you were trying to get used to his size. He felt you still clench around him tightly and if you could, you would rip his cock off. "To who?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows encouragingly.
For a guy his age, he held himself surprisingly well despite how fast he moved his hips, impaling you over and over again with his entire length.
"Toyoutoyoutoyou," you hissed in one breath and began to pant heavily, feeling the increasing tension in the muscles between your legs.
Joel smiled, pleased with the state he had brought you to, and pushed harder into you. That was the first time you saw stars and your lungs forgot how to breathe.
"You're right, to me," he nodded, leaning towards you. His hand slid under your shirt and after a moment it squeezed pleasantly painfully on your breast. You whimpered from the new stimulant that echoed off your clit. "And you know what I don't like?" he asked, teasing your nipple with his thumb, while slowing down the movements of his hips, entering you more passionately. "Sharing," he answered before his question even reached your consciousness.
Longer and longer moans accompanied every movement of his hips. His cock smoothly began to rub against that perfect spot in your pussy. You felt like crying from the pleasure that intensified the feeling of ecstasy inside you.
"Do you think your boyfriend will be happy when you tell him who's going to fuck you from now on?" he purred, rubbing his nose against your cheek. The scent of desperation filled his nostrils. You needed to come. You needed to be free from this burning feeling in your mind.
"What boyfriend?" you asked, overcome by the approaching fulfillment.
Joel smiled against your face and began to place wet kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes, tangling your fingers in his hair and fully surrendering yourself to everything he was giving you. His cock gently stimulated your cervix and the rest of his length created the perfect friction that drove you crazy. His hand sensually stroked your thigh and the other caressed your breast. This deadly combination quickly took away the last of your ability to think.
"Will you come for me, pretty girl?" he whispered, gently biting your skin. "Cum for me and let me fill you."
The only answer you were able to give him was a long moan as you reached your peak. You could dimly hear his praises and how proud he was of you. The feeling of euphoria spread through your body in strong waves, reaching the furthest corners of your body. Joel watched with fascination as the orgasm took over your body, the way you began to arch beneath him, the way you clenched your fingers tightly in his hair in need. This sight was something he feared he would never see again in his life. And yet, it was you lying beneath him, satisfied, overcome by pleasure.
The throbbing of your cunt and just you in yourself, drove him mad. Orgasm shook his body as if the last time he fucked was thirty years ago. The pleasure overpowered his ability to breathe. He froze, letting his cum fill you completely.
It felt like when he first discovered what his hand could do.
Overcome by the experience, he didn't even notice you watching him in silence, trying to calm your breathing. Your eyes sparkled as you stared at his tired face. You couldn't accept the fact that you had just experienced what you had dreamed of for a long time. And for the first time in a long time, you were just so fucking happy.
"Thank you," you whispered, placing your hands on his cheeks and lifting your head to connect your lips in a gentle kiss. Joel didn't resist even a second as he deepened the kiss, crushing you with his weight.
In that moment, you could admit that you forgot about the whole world. It was only him.
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