Work Text:
It was no surprise that even though you moved to a new state your senior year of high school, it wasn’t hard to find the only other trans kid at your new school. As soon as you locked eyes with the kid in art class with long, black hair, smudged eyeliner that's clearly been reapplied for several days, and a baggy hoodie with thumb holes ripped in the sleeves, you knew you found your kind.
You’re not even surprised to find yourself head over heels for Illi McMillin in no time. Her soft jawline, her doe eyes, the way she laughs and it lights up the whole room.
She’s perfect. She’s everything to you.
What does come as a shock is that she likes you back. You like to tease and say it’s only because you can keep up with her Star Wars knowledge, but Illi is too sweet for her own good. She likes to gush about how handsome you are; how she managed to snatch the hottest boy in school before anyone else. Likes to even squeeze your biceps and comment on how strong you are. You think she just likes to see you turn red.
It’s more than fair– and more than easy to return the favor. You openly ogle and ask her to do a spin whenever she’s wearing a skirt, playing with her hair and telling her she’s your pretty girl whenever she puts on makeup (and when she’s not wearing it, too). It feels wickedly giddy to watch her stutter over her words as she tries to deny it and only accepts when you bombard her with kisses until she does.
The two of you try not to be so mushy in front of her friends Ray and Frank and especially not in front of her brother Mikey. You’re thankful they even let you into the friend group with open arms, so you try and make sure there’s a balance between friend group hang outs and *cough cough* couples activities.
Tonight seems to be kind of in the middle of both those things. It’s a Friday night and the boys are all going out to a house party tonight, but Illi wants to stay home and not socialize. And like a loyal mutt, you decide to stick by her side.
Your brain (and lets be honest, your dick) can’t help but buzz at all the possibilities tonight could go, but Illi seems wrapped up in a drawing she’s working on. You love that she’s engaging in her hobbies, you really do, but you can’t help but feel bored and lonely sitting on the bed skimming through one of her comic books while she sits at her desk. The two of you have been sitting in a comfortable silence for over an hour– you can tell because the Misfits cd restarted a while ago, but you try to be brave and speak up before it gets too late.
“Sweetheart, you’ve been sitting over there for a while,” you coo sweetly. “Why don’t you come over here and we can watch a movie? We can just relax for the rest of the night.”
Much to your disappointment, she doesn’t even turn around. “Sorry, I’m almost done with the outline. Maybe later.”
You huff, brows furrowed as you slide down the propped pillows you're leaning against. You’ve already figured out by now that once Illi gets sucked into a project it’s hard for her to stop. “Maybe later” can mean anything from an hour or two to a couple of days. There’s nothing that’ll really get her to snap her attention away except–
A lightbulb pops into your head and the plan is so devious it makes you nervous. If it weren’t for the fact that Illi has opened up to you a lot about her own kinks and fantasies you might’ve been too afraid to even try. But it’s not so bad to have a little bit of fun and take initiative every once in a while, right?
“Does that mean I have to keep myself busy for now?”
Illi only hums in response. It makes your eyes narrow and you bite your lips in anticipation.
The challenge is to not make it too obvious right away, but it’s hard to not want to ham it up right from the get go. You start with taking off your pants as quietly as you can at first and awkwardly slip off your sports bra under your shirt. A quick glance and you can tell your girlfriend hasn’t noticed a thing. Good.
You stare with cautious eyes as one hand slowly trails under your shirt to squeeze your tit, reveling in the feeling of pinching your nipple. It’s hard to control your breath even now with all the nerves building up. It’s especially hard when your other hand trails down your stomach and your legs spread to accommodate the space it needs to rub your dick over your boxer briefs. A quick but quiet gasp sneaks past your lips, but if Illi hears it, she doesn’t think to take a peak.
With slow rubs and slow pinches it’s enough to get your body warmed up, already desperate for so much more. But you only want it from one person. You crave even her attention now as you keep on glancing at her; beautiful even when she’s in the middle of working.
After a few minutes you can’t help but add a little bit more pressure and you really can’t help but let out a small groan. Finally, finally Illi takes a glance behind her shoulder, only to do a double take, her eyes wider than usual as she quickly swivels around in her chair, ink pen still in hand.
It’s like her mind is scratching like an old cd as she just watches, mouth seemingly unable to close. You smirk at her, your movements not ceasing and if anything, you see this as the start of the show as you make a point to thrust your hips up a tiny bit and let out another noise.
“What– what are–?” Illi tries to start, but it’s like she can’t figure out what to even ask as her eyes roam over your body, trying to take in as much as she can.
You can hear your own cockiness drip out of your voice as you tell her, “I’m keeping myself busy while you’re working. You don’t mind, right?”
You playfully grip your cunt, palming yourself still through the cotton, but Illi whimpers as if you grabbed her yourself. She’s reacting about the same too, the way you can see her tenting in her sweatpants.
God, you love to see her get riled up so fast, all because of you.
She doesn’t answer you, choosing to be unusually quiet as she watches, her hands tightly gripping and letting go of the armrests next to her as if she can’t figure out what she wants to do.
Your eyes close for a moment, her dedicated gaze intense, even if that’s what you were looking for. It lets you get out of your head and savor the fire starting to burn low in your gut.
“Go back to your work, honey,” you tell her. Mock her. “I can take care of myself.”
You prove your point by finally slipping your hand under your waistband and the moan you let out as soon as you rub your dick seems to bounce and echo off of the tension in the room. Taking a sly peak you see her balking with rosy cheeks.
“Go back to—? what is this? Is this not you asking if we can have sex?”
You can’t help but giggle at the way this new power is making you feel drunk.
“This is me taking advantage of the fact we have an empty house.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Illi all but whines in betrayal. She shifts to stand up and it makes something in you snap to take control.
“Wait! I only want you to sit there and watch what y— uh, what you’re missing out on.”
Your mouth just as quickly snaps shut, nervous eyes scanning her face for anything out of place. It doesn’t help that she always looks a little nervous, but her entire body is frozen, like it’s fighting against itself before making the final decision. You know she knows there’s always an out if she doesn’t want to do this.
The red flush now on her chest matches the cranberry eyeshadow she’s wearing and you see they never leave your gaze as she sits back down with a shaky breath. You can’t help but gasp as if you’re trying to catch it.
The thrill of playing something new is intoxicating and your mind is racing around so many different scenarios it’s hard to choose what you actually want to do.
You spend so long thinking about it that Illi finds some last ditched courage to squeak out, “But that’s my bed.”
You grin, fangs exposed, the predator now knowing exactly how to toy with its prey.
“I know. And I think I’m going to steal some of your sex toys to really have some fun.”
She garbles behind you in protest as you lean over the side of the bed to pull out Illi’s “very secret and discrete” shoe box filled with her… private collection. It’s unsurprising that the two things you need are right on top: a good old fashioned dildo and some lube.
You lean back up and point the dildo right at her. “Is this clean?”
“I–” Illi opens her mouth, then closes it. “I don’t remember.”
Your annoyed groaning pushes your head back against the pillow, hating the fact that you knew to ask. She’s so lucky you love her.
She scrambles over herself and says, “But I can wash it for you right now! Please, I can help!”
You look at her and the desperation written all over her face is delicious. Illi likes to take charge most of the time (which you are more than happy with) but now that the roles have switched, she feels like silly putty in your hand and you can’t help but want to play with your new toy.
“Good girl,” you tell her, not as confident and sexy as you wanted it to be, but it appears to work just fine as Illi’s spine shoots straight up like she got electrocuted.
“Yes! Yes I can– I can be good– yeah I’ll just–”
She grabs the dildo out of your hand and is off to the bathroom in a flash. It’s enduring the way you can hear the water running for a minute, clearly taking the time to make sure it’s clean. Your tummy is giddy thinking about all the ways she likes to go the extra mile to take care of you. Because you’re her boyfriend. Because she wants to be your girlfriend.
Your sappy thoughts get interrupted when you hear a thud and Illi curse under her breath and you turn to see her tripping over a pile of dirty laundry by the bathroom door. Although it’s not a serious problem, there are times you wish she extended her caretaking skills to herself and not just you.
When she hands it off to you, you see her shift her eyes from the empty spot on the bed, to your own face, and then back to the clean dildo. It’s not hard to piece together what she wants to ask, but you wait to see if she caves into the humiliation to ask it anyways.
Three, two, one–
“Can I– please, can I sit on the bed and watch you?”
Bingo.
“No,” you coo, the sympathy in your voice is an outright lie and it makes Illi whine like she can’t tell if she enjoys it or not. (You know she does).
Before she can open her pretty lips to protest, you cut her off. “If I let you sit on the bed, then you’re just going to whine and beg to touch me and then you’ll ask me to touch you and you’ll just end up getting what you want in the end. You made your choice to draw, and I’m making the choice to feel good. I shouldn’t even let you watch since you’ve already been ignoring me for so long I have to take matters into my own hands.
“But I can’t help but be a little soft with you, so I’ll let the peeping slide, even if it means distracting you from your precious work.”
Illi is panting like a dog in the summer heat at this point. She’s tense; hands fidgeting, nerves twitching, a slight bounce on the balls of her feet. But there’s an eagerness that seems to be at the forefront that doesn’t hide how blown out her pupils are and the way her head can’t seem to stop bobbing as if she’s ready to say yes to whatever you say.
“I want you to apologize for your mistake.”
She graciously takes your director's note and her words spill out of her mouth as if she was waiting for permission.
“I’m sorry!” she laments, “Please, honey, I was stupid for ignoring you for so long when you wanted to spend time with me. You’re right, I’ve been nothing but neglectful I– I haven’t been taking care of you like I should when all you do is take care of me. Please forgive me! Please please please I’m so sorry please I wanna make you feel so good–!”
“Go sit back down in your chair.”
With her figurative tail tucked between her legs Illi does just that, but the pout on her lips tells you that’s not where she wants to be. Oh well, so sad.
“I forgive you,” you promise, not wanting her to be too mopey, “But it’s also my job to teach you a lesson. If you don’t give me what I want, then I can just do it for myself.”
With that you prove your point by wiggling off your underwear and prep your fingers with a generous amount of lube. Illi stares like an owl in the night who doesn’t want to look away from its potential dinner as it starves. Slowly, so slowly, she brings her hand to try and slip under her sweats as if she’s trying to not get caught.
As if she could ever escape from you.
“No touching unless I say so,” you bark and it makes her moan, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your dick.
You wait until her hand is back to gripping the armrest of her chair before you finally start to jerk off and it almost makes you roll your eyes back, but it doesn’t stop the moan from slipping out of your lips, either.
Fuck, all this talking has felt like the most intense foreplay you’ve ever had without you two even touching. Everywhere on your body already feels so sensitive. You can’t even tell where the lube ends and where your own slick begins because you’re that wet. Even with this burning desire to make you want to go hard and fast, nothing is more fun than torturing your girlfriend. It wickedly turns you on to see her helplessly look at you while you move your fingers up and down your slit, lazily circling around your cock or hole. It makes you feel like she’s trying to remember every detail about you to draw this later.
Your other hand crawls back up under your shirt to play with your nipples and it makes you gasp. It’s almost weird making this much noise as you masturbate, but by the way Illi is responding with noises of her own, it only spurs you on.
You have to look away before you break this dom character and just beg her to fuck you. But it’s not like that’s what you're picturing behind your eyelids anyways. Illi’s tits in the lacy bralette you bought her, the way her hair clings to her forehead when she’s sweating, panting on top of you as she rides you with the most perfect, blissed out look on her face.
Or maybe you could be eating her out and playing with her pretty clit in the school's cleaning closet like you’ve always wanted to. Nothing is easier than imagining the way she would bite her finger between her teeth, eyes clenched shut as if that’ll muffle any of her noises.
“Illi,” you breathe out.
Illi breathes in, a squeak in the chair. “What? What is it?”
With a sly glint you glance over at her, excited to already know what’s gonna come next.
“Mm, just thinking of you. I can’t jerk off anymore without thinking about you.”
It sounds like a pet hospital waiting room with all the whining and keening Illi can’t seem to hold back. You can see she’s trying to stop her hips from humping the air, but she’s failing miserably.
She’s failing oh so miserably and you know the blabber mouth is gonna ask,
“Fuck—! What about? You know I’m right here, you know I can give it to you.”
You laugh, taking the time to sort through your files of fantasies to see which one you actually want to share. But it also wouldn’t hurt to stay in the present.
“I’m thinking about how often you’re gonna fuck me after this. What do you think will get me more sex, letting you jerk off right now without touching me or making you wait until after I leave? Oh! Maybe not even after I leave. I’d keep us on the phone for hours to make sure your not touching yourself like a slut—“
“Jesus Christ!” Illi cries out, having to cut you off for a change. “You are going to be the death of me.”
You smile and finally admit to yourself that there’s no way you can look away from her now. She’s so hard there’s a wet spot on her gray sweatpants and you wonder if she was decent enough to wear underwear this time. Though, judging by how big her tent is, probably not.
“You love it,” you bite back. “You can’t deny that you don’t do this all the time. Leaning so close to my ear to whisper all the dirty things you like to come up with. It’s like your own little fucked up comic you like to read in your head.”
Illi shakes her head to agree, but she can’t help by adding, “I do draw it, sometimes. I have to limit myself on how often though; you’re just so handsome it gets me flustered every time.”
You roll your eyes, using it as an excuse to look for the lube again rather than admitting you don’t want her to see you flush over her words.
If she’s going to be a freak though, you are just going to have to be a freak back.
“You should do that now,” you suggest, focusing on lubing up her toy. “At least it’ll keep your hands busy so you don’t play with your clit.”
Illi takes it as an order and she spins her chair around a little too fast to grab her sketch book and a pencil.
Keeping up the teasing, you keep the dildo pushed against your hole, but not pressing in. You still circle your dick at a fast rate, the slick noises reminding the both of you that this is really happening.
It’s almost comical how everything about this sounds like a bad porno, played by bad actors who are way too inexperienced, but dammit you can’t help but admit how fun this is.
“I’m not going to be that still, in case you’re wondering. I hope you can work around that.”
Illi, surprisingly, is already working on her outline as she scribbles away. “Yes that’s— that’s fine. I don’t think I’ll ever forget what this looks like.”
You snort, “You big cheeser! I can’t believe you sometimes.”
Finally you push the dildo in and it pins your focus on the task at hand. Fuck, you’ve dragged this out for way too long. Of course getting Illi hot and desperate wasn’t something you got to do often, but it’s easy to get yourself lost in it too, wanting to see how far you can tease her.
You push in maybe a little too fast, but you truly don’t care. The stretch feels so good and it makes you feel so full. The devil on your shoulder can’t help but whisper something evil in your ear and it’s too good not to share.
“Damn, I should’ve brought my own toy. They’re a lot bigger. The wider stretch would’ve been so pretty to draw, wouldn’t it? Or is that not the main focus of your piece?”
Illi’s small tongue is poking through her small teeth as the furrow in her brows is the most serious you’ve ever seen her. “Working-on-the-album-in-the-studio” kind of intense.
“I’m not falling for your trap to monologue,” she finally says after a moment. “You’re just egging me on because you know I can’t come yet.”
You’re barely thrusting at all, savoring the fullness for just a little bit longer, but it gives you some clarity through the horny fog to hit Illi where it hurts most.
Smiling, you innocently ask, “So you agree, I have to give you permission first to come, right? You want to follow my rules and not touch yourself, but you’re still so desperate you’ll do anything to get on my good side. I think it’s cute that you think it’s gonna work.”
Let’s be honest, it probably will. Illi always wins and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
She keeps staring at her sketchbook and this is somehow worse than her focusing on the line art that got you two in this situation in the first place. Her glances are sharp and precise, yes, but they’re critical. Calculated. It’s hot, but not the same as turning her brain stupid.
Luckily you know exactly how to do just that.
You pump some extra lube in your hand, which really isn’t necessary, but it adds to the sloppy noises of it all. The fast rhythm you’ve set on your cock, rocking your hips to match the now powerful thrusts you’re holding onto the dildo with. Hell, you don’t know if you’d really care to stop even if the boys came back from the party early.
It doesn’t look like Illi ever wants you to stop, either. You catch her lingering a little bit longer at certain spots on your body and it makes them warm up under her gaze. You’re getting close a lot faster than you thought you would but everything about this is so good.
Even with the Star Wars bed sheets and oversized tshirt you still feel like a pornstar. Fuck, the drawing is going to be a ridiculously beautiful reminder of this.
“Do you think you’ll touch yourself to that?” You ask, the goading never really coming to a stop. “Do you think you’d have a hard time keeping it clean before you cover it in your cum?”
Your girlfriend's moan is basically a yes.
Shit, you don’t think you’ll be able to keep these sheets clean with the way you’re dripping all over the place. Even though you know they weren’t clean to begin with you can’t seem to find it in you to care about adding to the filth. The amount of lube makes you feel like a toy yourself, your thrusts being met with an easy slide to pound yourself even harder. It’s not like Illi can’t please you, but the control makes things a little bit easier. You know exactly where to rub, the pressure, the sounds, the view–
“‘M so close,” you groan, knowing that’s going to spur your girlfriend on even more.
Illi’s mouth sounds dry as she whines. “Do you— are your arms tired? Do you want me to help you finish?”
You pretend to think about it for a moment before you shake your head no. “Nah, you should finish your work while you still have a reference.”
She won’t have the reference for long, you realize, the chord in your stomach growing taught as you clench down impossibly tight on the dildo and flick your hand on your dick. You almost wish this was Illi coming undone from your cunt, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stop praising you for taking her clit so well. Oh Illi, Illi, Illi—
The chord finally snaps as you come, the pleasure rolling in intense waves after taking your sweet time to get there. You distantly hear Illi in the background, gasps and please’s falling out of her lips, but she stays put as you slow down your movements.
When you peek over at her, the silence between you two is noticeable as she scans you over, seemingly looking for something before making her next move.
Illi starts by setting her paper and pencil down on her desk and then slides off her chair to sink to her knees. You observe her, still not making any noise to not break this spell, and you see in her doe eyes that she’s still wrapped up in her submissive role. She’s not ready for this to be over.
“Can I taste you?” she whispers; breathes into life. “Wanna clean up the mess.”
She looks away, as if all of a sudden her perverseness is making her shy, but you hold your breath to not scare her off.
It’s easy to find your favorite spot in the whole wide world: the side of her jaw as your thumb rests on her cheek. Just as easily you pull her up and she follows your hand all the way until she’s climbing on top of you and moving down your legs. You didn’t realize she had enough brain power to be a girl on a mission.
She shocks you by taking the dildos base out of your hands and slowly starts to pull out. You wince, even with her gentleness, but just as quickly you gasp as you watch her put it in her mouth and begin to suck.
“Oh my god, you’re sick,” you tell her in praise. It gets her to flutter her eyes open and bat her innocent eyelashes at you.
She draws it out, moaning as she takes the dildo deeper, the wet squelching noises almost louder than when you were fucking youself. Illi’s showing off now, unsurprisingly, and you wonder if she’s trying to get you worked up to want to go again. You have to give her credit; it would work if you didn’t find more joy in knowing she’s going to suffer later.
With a pop she pulls it out and unceremoniously tosses it on the bed. Licking her lips, she stares at your cunt like it’s her last meal.
“You’re dripping, sweetheart,” she says, as if you didn’t know. “Did you want to give me a little present for later? Leave a big wet spot of your cum so I can jack off to it later?”
“I’m not a freak like yo—AH!”
Your teasing would’ve been a quick quip if it weren’t for the fact that Illi wraps her lips around your cock and sucks with the same intensity as before. She uses the flat of her tongue to lop up your hole and the lube that leaks out. Your girlfriend is hamming up her performance and it’s ridiculous and you love it.
You rake your fingers through her hair until it reaches the bottom, tugging at the roots.
“You can clean me up, but I’m not letting you try to get me to come again.”
Her grumble is so sad and you can’t help but admit it feels great on your dick.
“Please? Maybe I just need some— ah, new art inspiration?”
You laugh at the funniest girl in the world. “Yeah, nice try. Last time I checked your art isn’t 4D with scents and shit.”
“But it helps me get in the right mindset!” Illi argues even as she lets you pull her head back. “You don’t understand, you’re my muse! My light! My—!”
It didn’t take you very long to figure out that the best way to get Illi McMillin to stop talking is to stop her lips physically with a kiss. The short circuits in her head pop and it lets her brain shut down to just melt into your mouth and body and warmth.
You love the slowness of it, the way her hands hold your hips gently. The both of your tongues swirling and dancing light waltz with no rush. How is this more of a turn on when she was literally just eating you out?
You pull your head up to free your mouth, but Illi has no intentions of doing the same as she presses forward to attack your neck instead.
“No marks!” You panic, having learned the hard way one too many times.
She huffs against your neck, “You never let me have any fun,” before kissing your necks again. In revenge, she swipes her tongue in a long strip up to your earlobe before biting and pulling with her teeth.
“OI! That’s it! Get off me now!”
You’re both giggling, the playfulness still there, but now it’s settling into wrapping up the end of the scene. Illi does get up and you use that space to stretch out your back and roll your wrists out.
“So do I get to come once you leave?” Illi asks. Fuck, the fact that she’s asking permission is hotter than you like to admit.
You think about it as you pull up your underwear. “Mm, no, I don’t think so. You have two new projects to finish, right? That’s gonna take up the whole night. I should go and leave you to it.” She groans dramatically as if you’ve physically hurt her.
“Why are you giving me homework?!”
A smile worms its way on to your face and you can’t help but move over to her so you can pull her down into a kiss.
She hums and when you pull away, she defeatedly sighs. “Ok, you're forgiven. For now.”
You pull away to laugh a little louder. “Why do you think I’m being a little bit of a masochist right now? I know you’re gonna punish me later anyways! Might as well have some fun.”
Illi laughs too and the both of you get dressed in a comfortable glow; content, but still buzzed with what might come next.
Your girlfriend kisses you sweetly at the front door and you kinda don’t care about how long it’s been letting the cold air in if that means more time with her.
“Drive home safe,” she says, then a kiss.
“Text me when you get home.” Kiss.
“I’ll miss you.” Kiss.
You giggle, pretending to hurl over her cuteness. “Illi! You have to let me go home!”
She gives you one last tight squeeze before pulling away, saying her goodbyes with a constant wave. As you walk to your car, you’re a little dumbstruck, your body still tingling from everything that happened. Shit, maybe you might masturbate when you get home.
You know in your heart you wouldn’t even be mad if Illi “broke the rules” and did the same thing. You’re so happy to be with her and you can’t help but wonder if it’s always going to be like this.
You hope it lasts forever.