#plus!reader

See, Joel can’t seem to help himself whenever he hears the snap of your swimsuit fabric against your supple wet skin. Anytime you’re readjusting or simply shrugging on your swimsuit, you’d tug at the elastic with one taut finger and release letting it form along the curves of your body.

Normally something like that wouldn't and shouldn’t stir any sane person.

It all began on one summer day after a rigorous water aerobics class, when you’d excuse yourself from your group as they continued on their routine. You went to fish out the gusset of your one-piece swimsuit, swallowed up by your volumptuousness. You hung around in a dark corner, sure that no one could see you.

But he did.

He’d been innocently on his way to the class after exiting the locker room and there you were bent over, one hand against the wall for support while the other hand pinched at the fabric lodged between your legs—between…your puffy glistening folds. They audibly ‘clicked’ with how sticky you were as you parted them.

Were you always this wet? Or had something turned you on that day enough to make you that way?

His knees nearly buckled. Hell, you would have been nearly responsible for his heart attack or possible death.

….And it would have been worth it.

You released the fabric with a snap, allowing it to adjust in place and smiling in relief. Meanwhile, he hid away disappointed he’d never see such beauty ever again. Only the sound of the clicking stickiness and the snapping elastic to remind him of heaven.

But, of course, you possess a rubenesque figure in which your swimsuit needing to be readjusted is a common occurrence.

For the moments where it’s a simple adjusting of your top, you’d do it shamelessly out in the open. No nudity but still his eyes would draw to your full chest at the sound of the snap. And for the parts that dug deeper, you’d hide away and he’d discreetly excuse himself from the others in search of you, hiding away while he ogles your body and feels himself stir in his trunks.

The kind of swell he hadn't felt in years.

It’s wrong. He knows this. He’s absolutely repulsed at himself whenever he does so and yet he does it anyway. You don’t deserve this. You’re too good. Very sweet, polite, and helpful to everyone. You even pray for him whenever he falls ill. And this is how he repays you?

Joel lies to himself sometimes, blaming his old age for being unable to control his perverted reactions towards you. However, deep down, he knows that even if he were just a little younger…he’d still be a dirty dog.

A warm breath against his ear and a hand pressed against his tummy from behind startles Joel for a moment until your words began to flood his ears.

“You’re doing so great, Mr.Miller. Amazing core control,” You praise before your hand slides a little lower, smoothing the hairs on his tummy as you reach the waistband of his shorts. “Don’t forget those breathing exercises I taught you. Want to feel you taking those breaths. Breathe in, breathe out.”

He can hardly breathe when you're all over him like this. Joel is usually great at feigning indifference when it comes to you, even acting like a grumpy little brat as it comes quite naturally. But now he’s suffocating trying to breathe with you own breaths fanning his ear, mimicking his own.

God, he misses the touch of a woman.

“Doing so good.” You softly repeat again, pressing your front further into his back. A strained whine bubbles in his throat, painful to swallow down. He thrashes a little in your caged arms. He needed to get away or he’ll pop a boner prominent enough to call a nurse.

You grip his forearm with one hand keeping him steady. He could easily break from your grasp but he’s a touch-starved pervy old man. There’s no way the sick part of him would miss the very few moments throughout each class session where you’d lay hands on him.

“I ain't that old, woman. I’m a grown man who’s had 70 years of breathin’ on my own,” He grunts. “I reckon I’m more of an expert than you.”

You chuckle. You always did find his fussing to be endearing. “You got me there. But I can teach you the more efficient and safer way to do it while swimming,” One of your hands leave his arm to quickly tug at your red bikini that gave you a shallow wedgie.

That damn familiar snap and soon he’s salivating as if he’d just removed his dentures. It’s even more uncontrollable then the other times, possibly because of your close proximity.

Thick drool runs down his chin dripping onto your arm across his tummy. You freeze for a moment, recognizing the difference in consistency from the water that surrounds the two of you.

Carefully, you float around him to face him. It’s unmistakable once you bare witness and concern is the first emotion to etch your features.

“Mr. Miller, you’re drooling,” You point out. “Are you feeling well?”

“Ain’t made o’ sugar, darlin’. Lil’ saliva ain't ever hurt nobody.” He shrugs off.

You don't allow him the opportunity to float away as you shrink the distance, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. Sickeningly, he hoped it was the same hand you’d use to remove your wedgie.

“You’re burning up. You poor thing,” You coo, gently gliding and caressing a hand down the side of his face. “No more swimming for you, mister.”

“Jesus Christ, woman, I already said that I—”

“I don't think you want to disappoint me,” You say talking over him then adding on innocently, “Do you, Mr. Miller?”

He reluctantly shakes his head and sighs a gruff ‘no’, trying to remain frustratingly defiant but you have the patience of a saint.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ll have my swim partner take it from here for the day while I escort you up to your apartment. We can call a nurse from there. Sound like a plan?”

“Fine,” He huffs. “But you should know you’re taking away from the one part of my day that I get to do somethin’ active.”

“No worries, Mr. Miller,” You place firm hands on his shoulders as you guide him out of the pool from behind. “Promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Once you’re both out of the pool, you take the initiative to guide the way, your hand in his as you drag him into the women’s locker room much to his confusion.

“I can tell you’re so starved and yet you refuse to eat any of your meals according to your caretaker,” You call out over your shoulder, oblivious to his frantic state.

Were you mad?! Why on earth would you lead him to such an intimate area? It’s lucky that it’s just the two of you. But at any moment someone could walk in and he’d be the perverted peeping tom of the situation. Unless it was exactly what you wanted. Could you have finally caught on to his behavior? It could explain the very suggestive nature of this whole situation.

Swarming thoughts; a mixture of guilt, fear, and confusion, continue to plague Joel’s mind. Even as you carefully sit him on the bench just in front of your locker, he can’t help but feel as if he’s in some sort of trouble. If it is the case, then he’s being extra cautious not to ogle you as you begin to rummage through your locker, bending over like a trap begging for his eyes to feast.

You straighten and pull out a lunchbox, sitting in the space beside him. It’s enough distance to where the knee of your folded leg, resting on the bench, presses into his soaked swim trunk-covered thigh.

“I made some Penne Alla Vodka last night along with other goodies,” You say as you begin to take the containers out of the box. “I actually brought this for you since I overheard you complaining about the lack of taste in some of the foods you’ve had to eat and I also knew how much you enjoy pasta so…I made this.”

You pull out a handkerchief from the basket, leaning to dab his face when he flinches away for a moment then give in.

You smile as you clean around his face and continue. “I know I’m not allowed to do this. In fact if they caught me, I’m guaranteed to lose my job. But I really couldn’t stand to see you starve yourself and go about our lessons as if you’re fine. So I brought us here where there were no cameras so you can indulge.”

Joel melts. You really are a sweetheart. Nurses and the elderly alike love you and it’s always been clear why. Only he’d been the one reluctant and distant with you despite your best efforts to be kind. He knew exactly why. He felt ashamed that a man his age could desire you so intensely knowing all you would ever see him as is a stand-in grandfather. That, in the end, he could fantasize and drool over you all he pleases but there will never be any reciprocation.

“Thanks, kid. Really means a lot.” Joel finally says with a soft smile, patting your leg.

“Anytime. But let’s keep this our little secret, ‘kay?” You whisper, a finger to your lip and a wink.

He nods, stopping in mid-motion when he feels you taking his hand in yours once more, his palms facing up as you lather a sanitizing wet wipe across it. He shivers as you carefully take each thick individual finger and twisting your hand them. It’s as close of intimacy with a woman that he’s had in a very long time. A few more strokes and his semi-hard state might stir at full attention, something that would have taken a blue pill or two to achieve.

“All clean.” You whisper before squeezing his hands. “You must be so cold. We’ll make this quick so you can change into some warm clothes and rest at home.”

You release his hands to take a forkful of pasta, bringing it up to his face.

God, now you’re feeding him?! Just another way of reminding him of his age.

You sense his hesitance, taking it a different way. “It’s still very warm if that’s your concern.”

Then you’re turning the fork handle in his direction, silently offering him to take the utensil from you to feed himself. Joel turns the handle back in your direction before taking the forkful into his mouth.

You give him that famous sweet smile but in your eyes there’s a glint of mischievous as if you enjoy watching him under your control.

“Better?” You ask.

“Mhm.” He huffs through chewing.

“Good boy.” You purr and to even more of his surprise—as if his poor old heart can handle any more of it—you place your free hand on the back of his head, petting him.

He doesn’t speak up. In fact, he could tell by the look in your eyes that you’re surprised he hasn’t shot you with a grumpy comment about being treated like a dog. But the smirk slowly creeping on your face tells him that he’d already given himself away.

He’s undeniably submissive to you.

You feed him another bite, scooting closer as you continue to pet him. His eyes nearly cross when your fingers reach his scalp, scratching.

“Mr. Miller, I’m curious,” You say in a saccharinely teasing tone, your pinky finger tracing light circles on the back of his neck while your fingers continue to entangle in his hair. “I was so sure that you’d be more composed once you’re fed and yet I look into those big brown eyes of yours and they still convey need. Is there something you’d like to ask for? Something I can give you?”

Joel harshly swallows down the meal, throat growing dry as the implications no longer feel blurred. Yet, still he plays the fool.

“I ain’t catchin’ your drift, kid.” He’s cool and collected. Or so he thinks. But the tremble in his legs planted on the tile floors gives him away.

“Kid?” You say to yourself, eyebrows furrowed as if testing the word on your tongue. Dramatically, you continue your own clueless charade, looking left to right then tugging on his curls and receiving a low grunt from him. “I don’t see a kid here, Mr. Miller. Would a ‘kid’ be able to classically condition a man to crave them and nothing else?”

“You mean…you know?”

You don’t take your eyes off his, towering over him with your knees planted on the bench. You tug on his hair further, sending his head back as you drop the utensil in your other hand to the ground and bring it to your swim suit. You tug at the elastic and release with a snap, full body shivers rack through Joel’s body and he begins to salivate once more.

For such a large and well-fit man, Joel felt so pathetic and small in your grasp.

You laugh. “Animals, babies, the elderly…are the most vulnerable and susceptible to psychological influence. You were the test subject in my little school experiment. Made it all the more easier to condition you with how perverted you are.”

“You did this all for some damn project!” He growls.

You giggle some more and it makes him all the more frustrated. “Oh, no, Mr. Miller. You aren’t my actual project. That would be super unethical and I want somewhat of a decent recognition for my work. You were just my little lab rat. A test dummy I could use to gather some information so that this whole experiment wouldn’t be entirely in vain. I mean, just think of the potential. Being able to sway the minds of an entire population of people with just desire alone especially as a woman. We’re a lot more powerful than anyone wants us to believe. I chose you because you’re the exact kind of ‘traditional man’ that underestimates this power.”

“You fuckin’ crazy woman. Once anyone hears about this—

“My work here is done. Tell everyone,” You whisper menacingly, tugging harder on his hair and shortening the distance between your face and his. “Tell them all. I’ll lose my job but I’ll have already gotten what I needed. And who’d believe you anyway? Everyone loves me and well…you haven’t been exactly discreet about your feelings for me either. As much as you try to deny it, I’ve seen the way you hunger for me and they probably have, too.”

“So what do ya get out of this besides bein’ a smartass and getting an old man to pop a hard one at the sight of a young thing like you?” Now he’s the one laughing. “These aren’t exactly groundbreaking results, sweetheart. You think you’ll get the Nobel peace for deducin’ that I wanna fuck ya? You really are just a pathetic little kid.”

Your tongue stretches out from your mouth, lapping up the saliva of his bearded chin. His mouth hangs open in surprise and in pleasure, eye fluttering at the sensation. For a brief millisecond, your tongue swipes over his bottom lip and pulls away with a sticky string of saliva to follow.

“The only pathetic one here is you,” You retort. “I’ve got you right where I want you. A compliant, whiny mess of a proud man. And you think that isn’t groundbreaking? Now tell me what do you need and if you ask nicely enough…I’ll give it to you.”

He couldn’t let you win. Not just yet. If you really saw him as just an experiment, then he could at least skew the narrative.

“You know, you’re wrong about me,” Joel begins, staring defiantly into your eyes. “I actually think women are quite powerful. Not all boomers think the way you think we do. But I also think you underestimate the kind of power I have as a man. It’s called ‘restraint’. So I ain't gonna be one of your little puppets to dance to your tune, sugar. Think I’m gonna finish this lovely meal you made me then I’ll just hop back into those lessons.”

He ends with a smug smirk but to his surprise your smile does not falter. You lean down for one last time, pursing your lips and a line of saliva trickles down. Instead of fighting, Joel allows it to fall on his tongue until your the one bringing a finger under his chin to close his mouth. You caress his Adam’s apple as he swallows, eyes blown in devotion as you pull away from him entirely.

“Fuck, that’s a shame,” You say and you actually do sound disappointed. You sit back onto the bench, hands planted on the splinted wood behind you for support as you lean back and legs on either side as you spread them wide. “I’d have given anything to feel your tongue here. I’d squeeze your head around my thighs and we’d conduct our own mini experiment on whether you’d sacrifice your air and right to life all for the sake of pleasuring me.”

Joel watches with a heated gaze and labored breaths as you reach your hand between your legs pulling the fabric hiding your warm core to the side, revealing the heavenly sticky plump folds he’d seen just once.

Now it’s up close and as beautiful as ever. As glazed as a cinnamon roll or a hunny bun. And he bets his life you taste like one, too.

When you decide to dip a manicured finger in, he nearly lost it there. You quickly pull it out, closing your legs once more to hold your hand in view for your attentions. It’s coated in your honeyed essence and you study it in glee, taunting him.

He has half a mind to stop you and yet he doesn’t as he watches you bring them to your finger to your mouth, sucking on it earnestly.

You release it with a wet pop. “Wish it were you tasting me instead. You’re clearly desperate for it.”

You point to his mouth, now softly smacking as it generates saliva. “I could’ve helped you with your little problem if you’d just let me.”

Now you’re rising to your feet and he’s beginning to panic. “Oh well, go on and finish. Hurry or the women’ll be in here soon.”

“Just hold your horses.” Joel calls out before he could stop himself.

You turn to face him with a devilish smirk. “Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“I…I want—I need you.” He grumbles.

“Was that so hard?” You quip, rubbing it in before gesturing him with a flick of your hand. “Lie back, dog. Don’t forget to remove those teeth, too. I know you’re all bark and no bite.”

Joel winces at your comment. Fuck, you’re more ruthless than he could have ever anticipated. Following your command, he removes the dentures from his mouth before lying back. You peer down at him with a smug look in contrast to his puppy eyed stare.

Soon, your throwing a leg onto the other side of his head, moving the gusset of your bathing suit to the side once more before lowering onto his plump lips.

He groans into your core the moment of contact. You moan at the vibrations, gripping his hair for support as you keel over. His tongue lathes across the perimeter of your hot pussy with one calculated drag of a lick before he completely surrenders and feasts.

“You’re so much better like this.” You whine, grinding your hips down against him.

The suction of his lips is an out-of-body experience. You’d have thought it’d be a lot harder to get used to the gumminess from the lack of teeth but you find your eyes rolling into the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Mmm hmph mm.” Joel strains through muffled words.

“No, no. Shut the fuck up,” You pant, hips rolling hard against his face. “Don’t talk. Just make me cum.”

Joel’s arms squeeze around your upper thighs, abandoning words as you ordered. His eyebrows furrow as your pleasure becomes his own, a tent forming in his swim trunks that threatened to bursts at the seams. Your hands were so close, leaning back onto your hands that are now supported by his hair-riddled thighs.

He rolls his hips upwards, hoping you get the idea. Touch him. Just please touch him. Oh, he hopes you’d slip your manicured fingers past the waistband of shorts and tug at his thick, veiny cock until you beg for it to be buried within you. By the contraction of your taut muscles around his tongue, he could tell you’d be a really tight fit.

God, just the thought of it makes him feel as if he’ll cum. Nope. He’s definitely about to cum and he knows you’ll give him grief over it. And yet he can’t help it when you’re moaning so loud like you’re not in a public space. Anyone could walk in to sound of your wrecked wailings. They’d stumble upon the wanton sight of you riding his face while he happily humps the air and not even King Arthur would be able to pull his wet wringling appendage out of your core.

“Oh my god, Joel, it’s so good. Fuck, it’s so good. You’re gonna make me cum. Shit, shit, shit!” You cry, a tremble in your voice.

Such a dirty mouth for whom he’d once known to be a sweet girl. Now Joel sees you almost like a little bully seeking the vulnerable to impose your power over. So why does that sickeningly turn him on so much so that he wishes to be preyed up one by you rather then the usual reversed scenario? And why did he find himself looking to please you despite you viewing him no more than a trained pet?

It’s clear.

You never had to try to begin with but you went just a step further to ensure he’d be on his knees for your attention and like a lawn chair he folded to your whim. Women truly are devastatingly powerful.

Well, should he assume his role than he’ll be glad to prove his worth, shattering your world and preconceived notions of him. He maybe “traditional” but by god he’ll ruin you unconventionally. You’ll have no chance to think so little of him as your puppet if you’re so drunk on lust that you’ve ascended another realm.

With a newfound determination, Joel uses his advantage as an old man with the years of age and experiences that allow him to flick, slurp, and swirl his tongue with the eagerness one would have with a sweet treat. All while he uses toothless mouth to suck your soul and drink in the sweetness you provide.

His meaty fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, refusing you the chance to pull away from the intensity. But what really dooms you is the way he looks holds your gaze just as the dam breaks.

Your breath is stolen. Tensing, gasping and mewling when it happens. You shake so violently in the throes of passion that he’s having to bring his hands up around your waist to keep you from falling, still licking you to completion. His eyes never leave you despite yours having long disappeared into bliss.

A few tears escape your eyes, falling onto his face and gliding down the sides as if they were his own tears. But it’s the goosebumps that rise against your smooth skin that had for some reason did him in as if that were physical proof enough that he’d ruined you.

A broken whimper escapes him to his chagrin as he cums in his shorts, hyperventilating when load after hot load begins to spurt out of him.

You continue to quake against him, aftershocks coursing through you like electricity. The tremors throughout your bodies hit at different frequencies until they meld into one and you’re both between groans, gasps, and lightheaded giggles.

When all settles, he reluctantly releases you, hairs clinging to your respective skins from the thin layer of sweat that illuminates your bodies under the fluorescent lights.

His mouth is coated in your creamy essence and you take it upon yourself to lap it up with your tongue. Joel goes a step dirtier and collects it from your tongue with his in a heated french kiss.

You’ve never kissed a man this old let alone without any teeth but you’re addicted, bringing his mouth to your neck. He latches to you like a leech and you have plans to later feel them on your hardening buds while he rams into you. The idea making your toes curl at the same time he decides to suck on a prominent vein.

“Those swimming lessons paid off, Miller. You swam well.” You quip, groaning as he cups your still wet and quivering cunt with a large hand.

With his free hand, he pops his dentures back into place before biting into your shoulder, eliciting another delicious sound from your pretty lips.

“Told you I ain’t need any of them breathin’ techniques you thought you could teach me,” He soothes the teeth indents on your shoulder with an open mouth kiss. “An old man’s had enough years of experience to know.”

You rest a hand on the warm, darkened spot on the crotch of his shorts and squeeze. He bites his lips to keep another pathetic whine at bay but it proves to be futile when your lips find his ear and you whisper, “Then do you mind not coming up from air for a second time? If you’re good for it, I’ll think about touching your achey breaky senior citizen cock?”

He can’t help but smirk at this. Oh, he’s going to make you eat your words. Then just maybe if he breaks you enough, you’ll be a good little conditioned kitten for his to taunt.

He glances your way and you’re so taken aback that you’re scrambling to adjust your position. Seconds after, you ponder on whether you’d seen him move his lips.

“Huh?” You say, snapping out of your daydreams.

He lets out a quick laugh then a lingering smile. “I asked if you could get us a beaker up front. I would get it but I’m so sore from basketball practice, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Oh, of course. No problem. Thank you for asking me.” You say, cringing at how lame you sound once you turn away.

Steve purposefully sent you away for a chance to look over your computer screen. Today, practically everyone has been sending each other their purity tests results as some new trend amongst your peers. You knew you haven’t done much but to see how high your score was really put it into perspective that if you were olive oil, you’d be extra virgin.

You return to your seat, unaware of his snooping at first until you seen just how broadcasted your screen was.

“Y-you didn’t happen to see anything weird on my screen, d-did you?” You ask, heart racing.

“Wouldn’t say weird. More like…intriguing.” He smirks.

“Oh, god.” You groan, head resting on the lab table.

“So is it true? You a virgin?” He asks with contained excitement.

“Yeah,” You whisper, raising your head once again to meet his darkening eyes. “Is it hard to believe?”

“A little,” He ogles you, eyes traveling up and down your body. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to be between those thighs?”

You’re sooo confused. Only a minute ago, you didn’t exist to him. Now he’s unashamedly flirting with you.

Steve brings a foot under your chair, sliding you a little closer to him. He leans in to whisper, his breath tickling your sensitive throat.

“You’ve never had that cherry popped?” His smile grew wider.

“I already said yes,” Your face heats up, cupping your cheeks to hide yourself. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed at all for being a virgin. It’s a really neat thing that you’re one.” He says softly.

“Why?”

He looks around the classroom making sure no one’s eavesdropping before he whispers, “Because it means I get to be the one who claims it,” He lowers his lips to your ears. “You want that, don’t you?”

You nod.

“I’ll need a verbal ‘yes’, princess.” He demands.

“Yes, I want you to take my virginity.” You breathe out.

“Good girl. I’ll text you when to come over tonight.” He says, rubbing a hand on your upper thigh before turning to pay attention to the lesson as if nothing had ever happened.

Tonight?! So soon?

You spend the rest of your day, butterflies in your stomach as you count down the hours until you’ll be getting dicked down by King Steve.

Six hours went to four hours and four went to three until finally the hour arrived. You followed the address he’d given you, recognizing it was some old cabin home. He’s standing outside waiting in a t-shirt and gray sweatpants that hang low. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he isn’t wearing any underwear, the outline of his rather large member is damning.

You take one good glance at yourself in the mirror happy with the casual yet sexy look you were going for before you exit your car. He walks up to you, throwing his hands around you and taking in your scent.

“You smell nice.” He says, hardness pressing against your belly and your eyes widen as you try not to pass out. Steve Harrington is hugging you!

“Th-thank you. I-it’s my mom’s perfume,” You mentally facepalm. “I-I mean she bought it for me but it’s not like her signature scent or anything like that. That would be weird.”

He laughs, taking your hand in his. “You’re adorable.”

You feel him tug you away, guiding you towards the front entrance of the home and your stomach lurches.

“Is this your place?” You ask with a nervous laugh, trying and failing at not sounding judgmental.

“Nah, vacation home for my uncle who lives in New York,” He explains. “Don’t worry. We’re all alone. So scream all you want to, no one’ll hear you.”

You remember the rumor going around that Steve takes his lovers to this remote cabinet specifically for this reason. You swallow the hard lump in your throat as the door closes behind you.

There’s no going back.

“Could I have something to drink?” You ask trying to keep yourself from hyperventilating. “Alcohol, preferably.”

“I want your mind clear when I’m in those guts, babe,” He helps you over to the couch, encouraging you to sit as he makes his way to the kitchen. “I can get you some water, though.”

“Kay.” You say, fiddling with your skirt. It’s now or never. You needed to put on a brave face, you will not be missing out on this Greek god’s dick. You begin to pull off your sweater, struggling with it as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

“What are you doing there, angel?” He asks and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, ya know…thought I’d take this off since it’s getting all nice and hot in here.”

“I agree,” He says suggestively, placing the cup on the coffee table to help you remove your sweater. Once it pops off, you stumble a little causing him to wrap an arm around your waist to balance you. “That better?”

“Mhm.” You reply, forcing yourself to look in his eyes.

He lowers his lips to yours and kisses you. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips before you follow his lead. You can tell you’re sloppy at it because when he shoves his tongue into your mouth it’s heavenly but when you do it, it’s all slobbery.

But even when you’re doing wrong, it feels so right because he’s moaning into it and as long as he’s doing that then you’ll consider it a win. His hands cradle your head, deepening the kiss. You can hardly breathe nor do you care to, clutching onto his shirt.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against your head. “I usually do foreplay but I wanna feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me so badly.”

That’s the second rumor you remembered about him. He usually says that very line to whoever he fucks. Only girl to ever have been treated to foreplay was his ex, Nancy. It hurts that you get a front row seat to the truth of the rumors. I guess that’s why they say never meet your heroes or, in this case, never have a one night stand with your crush.

“Can I please?” He pleads, hazel eyes big and wet as if it physically hurts not being inside you and judging by the way he jumps and throbs in his pants you’d say it’s a possibility.

“Yes, you can fuck me. Please fuck me.” You say, kissing him once more and he whines against your lips. He loves hearing how much you need him.

Laying you on your back onto the couch, he quickly removes your clothes off your body tossing your shirt, bra, and skirt to the floor but leaving you in just your white thong. He groans at the darkened wet patch, hooking his finger underneath to pull to the side.

“Look at that pretty pussy,” He praises. “You tellin’ me no one’s had the chance to see it let alone be inside it.”

“Yeah, no one. Guess I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Fuuuck, baby, don’t talk like that or I might fill you up with my cum.” He says.

That’s another of those little rumors. He threatens to cum inside you. You should be revolted by this but you find yourself canting your hips upward in anticipation.

“You want me, babygirl? I’ll give it to you.” He pulls his sweatpants down just below his bent knees and a horse cock comes out springing and swinging.

You froze, mouth dropping. Oh hell no. You need to get out of here. The rumors do no justice at all to the sheer size of him. He’ll tear you apart!

Panic sets in as he hooks the back of your knees into the crook of his arms, positioning himself between your thick thighs.

“O-on second thought, I think I’ve found God and he tells me that maybe I shouldn’t…” You trail off when you feel his warm cock rubbing between your clothed folds. Oh, now he surely needs to be inside you. You’ll take the pain.

So we know that Oz Perkins made Dale a very layered character with one of those layers being that, aside from being so evil, he’s a very sad and lonely old man.

Dale is definitely so used to being feared and avoided that it’s natural for him to be alone for long periods of time. He never goes out much unless it’s to run some errands for himself or Satan. At home, he’s either making his dolls, singing and head-banging to his music, or straight up talking to himself.

Then, you come along. Probably as roommates or maybe you’d eventually move in to his home after sometime of dating. You and Dale instantly click because your interests align. You both love music, crafts, dressing up and such. Not to mention you’re an absolute angel in his eyes; bubbly, full of heart, and always willing to see the good in others. And you’re also very perceptive and could easily identify that Dale is in desperate need of someone who’ll care enough about him. The world’s so ostracizing of misfits and he’s been casted aside for so long that he’s not only accepted it but embraced it to the point where he simply does not care to conform.

But you don’t ever wish for him to conform. You love the way he is and despite what he may say regarding his insecurities of his appearance ‘fading’ youth, you find him so breathtakingly beautiful and you only wish he could see it. The only ways in which you’ve expressed this is by being so doting and loving to him.

The way you’d hang on his every word, hold him, sometimes clinging to his side even when he’s busy working in the basement, or telling him he’s beautiful and that you love him every chance you get, and, of course, in the way you kiss and make love to him.

At first, Dale’s probably uncomfortable and maybe a little annoyed, wondering why is it that you wished to be so close to him all the time. But give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s just not use to such sincere love like this and one day it legit makes him cry to the point where he’s sobbing so loud and you just end cradling him and telling him everything’s okay and that you’re here for him now.

No more were the days would Dale come home to a quiet and empty home because he’d barely get a foot through the threshold of his house before your jumping him and peppering his plump face with big wet kisses. No longer were there days or even weeks where Dale would go hungry, because you’d always whip him a good home-cooked meal making sure he’s well-fed and hydrated.

One day he’s home alone because your probably at work or out with friends, and these anxious feelings like the fear of abandonment would just hit him hard. He’s worried that you’ll leave him one day and he’ll be all alone again. That meant no more of your warm hugs, playing in his hair, or hearing your sweet voice singing to him. And whenever Dale gets scared, he does irrationally things. So he’s just planning ways he could keep you from ever leaving him like searching up ways to slowly brainwash you and make him be all that you need.

You learn of this tactic one day when he’s acting all suggestive and weird around you. Then, you stumble upon the collection of books he’s purchased that are about persuasion and other psychological things. And you simply laugh and feel so happy, telling him that you’re not going anywhere.

“Why else would I be stuck to you like glue, Dale?”You say. “I’m never leaving you and you’ll never leave me.” Because you’re just as obsessed with him as he is with you.

And you’d show him just how obsessed you are late in your shared bedroom where you bound his hands and legs to each post of the bed and ride him until he sees God. And even after he’s cum already 2 times, you push his limits and overstimulate him because you know he can take it. The squish and squelch of your combined fluids and symphony of moans gives you the great idea to record the noise as a gift for him to sample in a song he’ll make someday for you both to listen to.

Then for aftercare, you’d both soak in a nice hot bath and he’d lay against your chest while you shampoo his hair and lightly scratch his scalp. And you’d take the time to wash his body and really take your time admiring and caressing every part of him, handling his pretty cock with care. And it’s in that moment where he truly allows himself the freedom to bask in such wonderful treatment of him and maybe he doesn’t feel like he deserves it but you’re pretty damn convincing.

Insecurities is basically all I'm made of, confidence had been one of the most foreign things to me my whole life. Most of my life I've been on the bigger side per-say or what my "better" twin sister says, fat. Her name is Iyana and she's considered "the perfect girl" in my family but I don't blame them she had everything, she was skinny and beautiful unlike me which they made sure to remind me of everyday no matter what since i was only 7. "You look like a pig eating that y/n" and "Stop eating the whole table of food y/n" is what my mom and dad said to me the day of grandma funeral at the repass. It made me cry even harder because it just reminded that my grandma was the only person who didn't comment on my weight and she was gone.

Years laters , I officially turned 18 and decided to run away to the town of Tulsa to escape my family, unfortunately I carried my insecurity and built up walls that seem like they could never be torn down. I found a job at the so-called dingo. It paid pretty well and i was able to find a small house. It was a rather quiet neighborhood apart from my next-door neighbors, The Curtis's. There was Sodapop, Ponyboy, and the eldest, Darry. I'd met them couple times and they've invited over for dinner but I've always declined because i hate people watching me eat. Even tho there was only the three boys living there, they always had 4 other boy basically living there also. There was Keith "Two-bit" Matthews, Johnny Cade, Steve Randle, and the infamous Dallas Winston. I've met them multiple times also, Two was the funny one, Johnny is the shy one, Steve is the car one and Dallas is Dallas. They've always been pretty nice to me and all, asking me how I've been and occasionally flirting but I always brush it off because it's probably just for laughs.

Months later, I decided to grow a garden since nature has always been an enjoy for me. I watered my plants twice a week to keep them healthy. I woke up to find that it was one of the most hottest days in Tulsa, damn you heat waves. That meant that it was most likely for my plants to dry out which meant they needed to be watered. I put on my red floral sundress and hat to head outside.

When I was about half way done watering the garden I heard some of the boys coming down the sidewalk. I continued my business until I heard "Hey Ms.L/N" come from three boys, I turned and saw Dallas, Two-bit, and Johnny then I proceeded to reply "Hi boys." I went back to my plants and thats when i heard something strange come from the one and only Dallas Winston, "when you gonna let me fuck Ms.L/N" in a whisper that sounded almost purposely loud as hell. "What you say honey?" then he replied a loud nothing, and walked in the Curtis house. I shrugged, maybe i heard him wrong, I thought.

After weeks of playful banter and flirting, Dallas decided to ask me out, i was extremely skeptical because my weight and thought it was bet or something but he convinced me. Which is why months later were dating now. I was skeptical about dating someone like him because of who he is but he ended up having unexpected soft side to him. We decided to take things slow, which was cool at first but Im starting to get worried. Dallas started to get distant from me. Even after months of dating, we haven't had sex and it was all my fault, he tried a couple times but i just couldn't bring myself to do it, it wasn't that I wasn't attracted to Dallas or I didn't love him, I was just insecure about my body and what he would think of me.

I tried my best to ignore it but he got fed up and finally asked "are you not into me doll?" My eyes widened and I turned to him "of course I am baby, why wouldn't I be?" He shrugged and said "We haven't you know...and Im a little worried" At that point I started tear up a little "Woah woah whats wrong?" he asked with a worried look. "Im sorry I just think you'll hate what you see if we do. At that point he told me to get up and grabbed my hand. We walked to the mirror in my room and he stood behind me. He then started to drag his hands up and down my body saying things like "I love everything about you doll" "I love your thick thighs and your legs" "Your so beautiful, I want you so bad"

Everything he said made me grow wetter and all I wanted was him at this moment, nothing else.

*************SMUT WARNING*************

I turned around we began to kiss passionately for a few moments..."I think I'm ready Dally" He replied with a breathy ok and began to kiss down my neck and chest. I let out and small whimper

"Please Dally" I said

"Please what beautiful?" he asked in a seductive tone

"Please make love to me"

"Of course baby"

I shuddered as he started to pull my shirt over my head and kiss my breasts, leaving hickeys on the hot skin. He then reached down and started to fiddle with the lining of my shorts.

"Can I take these off y/n?"

"yes sir"

"holy shit say that again"

"yes sir" I repeated

Dallas leaned down and started to kiss down my stomach and thighs. I let out a small moan when he sucked a sweet spot on my thigh.

"Lay down"

I walked over to my bed and scooted up to the pillows at the top. Dallas then took off his shirt showing his bare chest and small happy trail. He walked over and pulled me to the edge. He spread my legs and ran his pointer finger over  over my underwear.

"Baby you're soaked, is this all for me?"

"yes sir" I said as I moaned

He let out a low groan and kneeled down. Dallas then pulled my underwear down snd started to leave hickeys on my inner thighs.

"What are you doing Dally?"

"Thats not my name doll"

"Sorry sir"

"Now, what I'm gonna do is eat this pretty pussy, is that ok baby?"

"yes sir" I whimpered

Dallas then started to suck my clit hitting all the right spots. I let out a loud moan and started to pant. He then licked down and pushed his tongue into my hole.

"Dallas!" I moaned

"You like that baby?"

"yes yes yes"

"you gonna cum on my tongue?"

"Yes sir"

He continued to thrust his tongue inside of me.  As much I love this man and didn't want him to suffocate, my thighs began clamp around his head as i came. I rode out my high and he came up with my arousal on his mouth.

"I'm so sorry baby" as the tears started to form

"Sorry for what?"  he asked breathing heavily

"My thighs almost killing you" I said not knowing if i should cry or laugh.

"Would have been one of the best ways to go out" he said smirking

I giggled

"Now come here doll"

He pulled me up and started to unclip my bra letting my breasts fall. He then started to kiss all over them and suck my nipples

"Oh Dallas" I moaned

"That feel good huh?"

"Mhm" I said as i bit my lip

Dallas then stepped away to take off his pants and underwear to reveal his hard-on. I then reached to find condom but had no luck.

"Baby I don't have protection"

"I do in my drawer but I don't think we need it just yet"

"What?"

"Shh just lay down for me"

"You don't have too doll"

"Its ok I want to"

I kneeled down and wrapped my hand around his dick, starting to glide it up and down. He let out a low moan. I then took his tip in my mouth running my tongue along the slit and sucking. I then lowered my head to take him fully, lips and nose touching the base. He bucked his hips up making me gag a little.

"Yes take me down your throat baby"

"You love this dick don't you"

"yes dally"

"can I fuck your pretty mouth baby?"

"Yes"

He then lightly tugged my hair to make take his dick fully down my throat. Dallas began to thrust roughly into my mouth. He let out the most low groan and moans. He then said...

"Where do you want it?"

"Down my throat Dallas please"

Dallas then continued his thrusts in my mouth.  After a couple moments, i felt him twitch in my mouth and then I felt him cum down my throat.

"That was amazing doll"

"Thank you dally"

Dallas pulled me up from my knees and pushed me face first onto the bed. He then pulled my ass up so that I was arching. He began to rub his tip against my clit down to my whole mixing his precum with my arousal.

"you ready for this dick y/n"

"Yes Dallas!"

"say it baby"

"I'm ready for your dick" I said voice muffled by the bedding.

Dallas reached for the condom, ripping it open with his teeth. He then slowly slipped into my pussy, we both moan in pleasure as he starts to thrust slowly.

"Dallas!"

"You like that?"

"Yes harder please" I moaned in response

Dallas started to thrust hard into me as he moaned. I felt like I was in heaven with the pleasure I was receiving. My eyes started to droop and i start to drool a little. I felt like i was on cloud nine, clenching around Dallas with almost every thrust.

"You going dumb already babydoll?"

"Mhm"

"You gonna cum all over me?"

"yes dally" i spoke lowly

He then reached forward to rub my clit in fast and harsh circular motions. I cried out in massive pleasure. My legs began to shake and I clenched hard as I came, I rode out my high as Dallas's was approaching. He continued his thrusts as I started to feel that overstimulated feeling. He slowed his thrusts as they became sloppier and he came into the condom. He pulled out and disposed of the condom, then flopping onto the bed.

"Hows that for a first time doll?"

"You were so good Dallas" I said out of breath.

"That was all you baby, you were such a good girl"

"I love you Dallas"

"I love you too doll"

[THE END]

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“What is that?” Bucky stepped up from the couch to help you at the door, the fifty-pound box you were trying to slide across the floor. You grin up at him,

 “A firepit.” 

 Now that the inside decor was mostly taken care of you were slowly piecing together something for your small patio. You’d been bringing home cushion covers, string lights, a crate for blankets. “For when it gets cold.” You tell him. But he was happy to let you do whatever made you happy. And this seemed to make you really happy.

 It was an odd day off for him. After giving Sam a few days off for him and Wanda to travel upstate to a bed and breakfast for their anniversary he pushed Bucky to take some time off for himself. The only problem with that was, you’d been busy all week.

 It was the end of another quarter, a big project that Stark was trying to launch, some app that you didn’t really explain too much to him about because it was mostly for corporations to see what quality of workplace they were creating. It had something to do with hours of work, versus difficulty of work, versus pay and formulated a score. And with this score it would show you how to improve the quality of work for employees.

 Needless to say, in testing, Tony had given you a raise among many others.

 But it took up a lot of your time.

 Which is why he was so surprised you came home with the firepit anyway. The two of you were listening to music and sitting outside, Bucky on the ground while you sat on the cozy deep outdoor couch that you’d given him heart eyes over when you’d originally gone shopping for outdoor furniture.

 “Can you hand me that screwdriver, right there?” He asked, holding his hand out for you to hand the tool to him, which you did, while also letting him take a sip of your old fashioned. His own long since finished but hadn’t quite gotten up to make another. “Thank you.”

 You were anxiously waiting for him to finish. A pile of sticks off to the side you’d already collected along with a couple of large branches you’d snapped and what was left of the briquettes from the grill just in case it wasn’t enough and beside you on the coffee table he’d pushed out of the way, marshmallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers.

 He flipped the metal base over, pushing himself off the ground he moved it a comfortable distance away while you sipped on the strong drink, admiring the view of your boyfriend bending over in front of you.

 “What do you think?” He asked. You grin up at him,

 “It’s perfect.” You stood while he went inside to make more drinks, laying the dry sticks and branches on top of the briquettes, using old newspaper from the move to stuff in the sides and light. The sun was just setting, the outdoor string lights flipping on their timer. You hum contently and stick a marshmallow on a skewer. You twisted it around in the flame until it was bubbly and brown, pulling it out as soon as Bucky joined you back outside.

 You held the melty fluff to him and he wrapped his mouth around the marshmallow, pulling it off the skewer before sitting down. Munching happily while he handed you a drink.

 “Thank you.” You grin at him, a sweet marshmallow and bourbon kiss. Next time the marshmallow was melted and you smushed it between the two graham crackers and a couple squares of chocolate, happily taking a bite while Bucky pulled the blanket across your laps.

 “This was a great idea.” He mumbled over a mouth full of s’more. You sip on your drink, a pleasant buzz going through your body, leaning back into his chest as you worked on your second s’more.

 “How do you think Sam’s doing?” You ask. It was a Friday night after all. The first Friday night that Bucky hadn’t worked since the restaurant opened. He kept glancing at his phone in worry. Like maybe Sam would need him. He was also checking the numbers, sales. A 10k hour.

 “They did a 40k lunch today which isn’t bad for a Friday lunch.” That was busy. So they were hoping to do another 50k at least for dinner, “But we are looking closer to 75,” Bucky was worried but he knows and trusts Sam to handle it.

 “Maybe you should have taken off during the week.” You take a sip. “You’d be able to relax more.”

 “Yeah, but you’re not off during the week.” You sigh, leaning further into his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you squeezing you to his side.

 “Still… it would have made you worry less about what’s going on in the restaurant.” He pulls his skewer from the fire, blowing on the marshmallow that had caught fire and he popped it into his mouth.

 “Maybe.” It’s so comfortable. The silence. The radio still playing softly in the background as you both get lost in the flames. Both chocolate bars gone, Bucky munched on graham crackers and the two of you finished off most of the marshmallows. He tasted like sugar and bourbon. A soft kiss on your cheek and then on your mouth, soft fingers tilting your head towards his. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” His tongue is soft, slow. Bucky liked to savor everything, even kissing. His fingers brushing your neck made you shiver. Your lips parting in a soft moan against his. His other hand comes to your leg, tapping it gently before helping you straddle his lap, the blanket falling around your hips, his fingers tracing figures down your back while you slowly kiss. Your fingers finding his hair, scratching gently on his scalp.

You broke for air, resting your head on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him as he hugged you to his body. You could almost fall asleep. The smell of just him, clean and masculine. The warmth between you. Work had been so stressful this week and you’d looked forward to spending the entire weekend with him. It was the only thing that made you make it through the workweek. Truly. And this hug, those sweet kisses, this closeness, it was giving your brain a much-needed rush of serotonin and you could feel yourself growing drunk with it.

“I love you so much.” You mumble into his neck, the fire warm on your back.

“I love you too baby.” He rubs your back for a moment, “You wanna go to bed?” A soft nod into his neck. “I’ll put this fire out, go ahead, I’ll meet you up there.”

He wasn’t far behind, meeting you at the sink to brush his teeth. You look at him in the mirror, watching him brush, to which he gives you a silly look, moving back to let you spit into the sink and grab mouthwash. A minty kiss after.

You change into some sleep shorts and an old t-shirt, rubbing lotion on your legs and moisturizer on your face while he changes and washes his face.

Bucky had this skin care routine, and he was very diligent with it, but then again his skin was very nice and clear for working in a kitchen and sweating for 75% of his time. The next part of the nighttime routine was probably the hardest.

He would sit next to you on your side of the bed and you’d take the medicated steroid cream given to him by his doctor and rub it into his left arm. The first time you’d done it you didn’t ask how it happened, “I can’t reach fully on my back.” He said. But he applied this cream every day to give the skin its flexibility back. It was stiff and hard to move sometimes. The tattoos he’d gotten, “They did more harm than good.” The inky swirls and Aphrodite herself, he’d gotten them before he went to war. The full sleeve. “There was an accident,” He told you, “It was friendly fire.” What almost blew his arm off was, of all things, friendly fire.

Against Doctor’s orders Bucky enraged the flesh more by going back to his tattoo artist and having the guy fix what he could on the healing and mottled flesh. “I was a dumb kid,” he said, “I thought I was doing the right thing.” Joining the war. “But they just chew you up and spit you out, thank you for your service and sorry but you’re going to be on the phone calling trying to get help every day for the next however many years of your life.” And it hurt you. It hurt you that he’d gone through this. Trying to get the military to pay for his hospital bills, the corrective surgeries, all the pins and rods in his arm. “I’ve got more metal than bone.”

You did what you could, rubbing the steroid cream into his arm, massaging the sore muscles he’d never complain were sore, working the joints of his fingers and massaging it into his back. The heel of your palm digging into his left shoulder at the knots that would form there from the stress on it. A kiss to the back of his neck and you went to wash the cream off your hands.

When you return the covers are turned down, Bucky already scrolling through the sales app on his phone. “He’s fine.” You scold him, climbing into bed. “Put your phone down.” Bucky sighs and darkens the screen, placing it on the end table.

“I know he’s fine…”

“You need to relax.” You softly kiss him, cuddling up into his side. “Sam can handle it, just like you did.”

“I don’t know about all that,” He jests. “He’s terrible at multitasking.” You roll your eyes, the room partially dark save for the light coming from the cracked door of the bathroom. A must for Bucky.

“You’re terrible at multitasking.” You mumble into his chest.

“That’s not what you were telling me yesterday.” Your core pulsed at that, the memory drifting back. You lift up to glare at him, a cheeky grin on his face. “You’re so beautiful.” He licks his lips, “Did you know that?”

“You’re a suck up.” You scoff, burying your head back into his chest, “Did you know that?”

“I love you baby.” His fingers tracing patterns on your back, your eyes beginning to find that tiredness you’d had on the patio.