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wintrwinchestr · 11 days

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obedience | part 2

summary: a week ago, you and joel had experimented with a new kink, and it’s been on your mind ever since. you had been too shy to ask to try it out again, but joel always knows exactly what you need.

warnings: 18+, smut, daddy kink, pet play (egregious use of “puppy”, joel teaches you dog commands and refers to your hand as your paw, among other things), d/s and ddlg relationship dynamics, praise kink, degradation/dumbification kink, cockwarming, edging, unprotected piv sex, creampie, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, etc), talk of reader wearing a collar, joel giving reader a bath/washing her hair, hella aftercare, reader has hair and can be carried by joel, implied age gap but reader is an adult, let me know if i missed anything!!

word count: 5.7k

a/n: literally nobody look at me please. this the most self indulgent self insert shit i’ve ever written in my life and if you get it you get it idk what else to say!!! anyway thank you for being patient with me and reading what i write, my big girl job takes it out of me sometimes but that’s what i write this type of shit to deal with <3 nice comments and reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed or if this awakened something in you :)

(read part 1 here if you missed it)

dividers by @saradika

“You want Daddy to train you, babygirl, you wanna be his pretty lil’ pet?”

It had been a week now since Joel had punished you, denied you for acting out over the phone, for disobeying him and sending him lewd photos of yourself when he had explicitly told you to stop. But you hadn’t listened, he wasn’t having it, and when he had returned home from work late that night, he had called you by a new name. Puppy, he had spat at you several times as he made you chase a ruined orgasm on his steel-toed work boot.

The pet name hadn’t left your mind since then, repeating itself over and over, along with his question of if you wanted to be trained, if you wanted to be his pet. The more you thought about it, the more you found yourself becoming desperate for it. Each day in the office was a struggle to stay focused on even the simplest of tasks, your thoughts overrun with fantasies of Joel getting you on all fours for him, giving you commands and praising you for following them, tugging you towards him by a finger hooked into a collar to tell you what a pretty puppy, what a good girl you’re being for him.

You’d left work every evening for the past several days with a damp spot in the seat of your panties, feeling ashamed by how depraved and inappropriate almost every one of your waking thoughts had become. When you would greet Joel at the door all needy and wanting, he would tease you with a “What’s gotten into you, lately, hm?”, but never push for more than you were willing to reveal to him, though he thought he might have had an idea. He would take you to the bedroom and have his way with you the way you liked, the way you had usually craved, before he had turned your world upside down by deciding on a whim to try somethin’ new that fateful night.

Joel would be more than willing to try it again, to follow through with that question he’d asked you, but he decided he was content with waiting for you to come to him, for you to decide when you were ready for him to make you his good puppy once more.

–

The weekend begins just like any other. Joel’s internal clock wakes him up no later than seven in the morning, the sun just barely streaming in through the blinds in your shared bedroom. He tries to keep his creaks and groans to a minimum as he rolls out of bed, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead before quietly padding his way into the kitchen to get a sizable pot of coffee brewing. He lets you sleep for another couple of hours, knowing full and well at this point in your relationship that he has the wrath of your grumpy morning attitude to face if he doesn’t. He does think it’s cute, though, how your face twists up into a pout but your eyes stay scrunched closed if he wakes you up at a time you deem too early.

When Joel does decide it’s a sensible time for the two of you to get a proper start on your generous two days off from the slog of your weekday jobs, he cracks the bedroom door open gently, making his way over to your still-sleeping form. He softly brushes some of your knotted hair out of your face as he places your mug of coffee on the nightstand beside your head, prepared just the way you like it. Whatever happened to good ol’ fashioned cream and sugar? Or just plain black, for that matter? Can’t believe you like it with all this cinnamon vanilla whatever you have me dump in it, he had teased, not long after you had first started sleeping over at his place. Can’t believe you drink it without anything in it. It needs at least a lil’ somethin’ sweet in it, you had bantered back to him, to which he was quick to reply with Got my somethin’ sweet right here, don’t I? before pulling you into his lap and kissing you hard until both of your cups ran cold.

You smile at the memory in your half-sleepy state, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Joel’s warm and familiar smile. “Mornin’, sweet girl,” he says, his grin only growing wider when you greet him back with the cute little squeal that comes out when you stretch your arms over your head instead of an actually intelligible word. “Got some emails and borin’ stuff to catch up on this mornin’, why don’t you just stay comfy and sip on your coffee while you wake up for a bit, hm? Probably be done in time to get lunch together somewhere, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you reply softly, real words this time, as you push yourself up to sitting while Joel props your pillows up behind you for your back to rest against. You don’t put up much of a fight against the yawn that stretches your jaw, rubbing your blurry eyes as it does.

“Alright, gimme a kiss, sleepy girl. Enjoy your creamer with a splash o’ coffee,'' Joel taunts through a chuckle. He presses his lips to yours, and his coarse beard tickles the skin around your mouth, making you giggle. The smile hasn’t completely faded from your face by the time he slips out of the bedroom to head into his office, shutting the door gently behind him.

Extending a hand down to your nightstand, you hook your fingers through the mug’s handle and slowly bring it up to your face, careful not to spill any. He’d chosen your favorite Daddy’s Girl mug, the phrase written in bold pink text curved over a little illustration of two blue daisies. You always thought your coffee tasted a little better from this mug, somehow. Taking your first sugary sweet sip, you think the sentiment is as true this morning as it’s always been.

–

A little while later, when you feel somewhat more awake thanks to plenty of caffeine and sugar working its way through your body, you finally force yourself into comfortable clothes different from the ones you slept in. With your hair sufficiently tamed, face washed, and teeth brushed, you decide now’s as good of a time as any to try and act on the plan you’d been concocting over the past couple of days, waiting for a moment just like this to pounce on.

You still felt too shy to bring it up to Joel, to tell him how badly you’ve been wanting him to treat you like his little pet, and go even further with it this time. You know he’d never judge you for it, and he had seemed to like the experiment just as much as you did. But something about your little fantasy still felt taboo and shameful, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to use your big girl words and ask for it.

Though, you had finally realized, maybe you didn’t have to ask for it. Maybe you could quietly tip toe into his office one lazy Saturday morning and sit at his feet, nuzzle into his thigh until he brings a hand down from his keyboard to scratch behind your ear, asking you What’re you up to down there, babygirl?

And that’s exactly where you’ve found yourself now, answering his question with a dreamy whimper, leaning into his touch as the feeling of his fingers on your skin makes you smile so blissfully, wiggling on your knees.

“What’s got you feelin’ so snuggly this mornin’, hm? Just need some lovin’ from your Daddy?” he asks in his still-rough morning voice, gazing down at you affectionately.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his calf and rubbing your cheek against the soft leg of his sweatpants.

“Alright, lil’ thing. Just got a couple more emails to take care of and then I’m all yours, promise.” He removes his hand from your scalp to start typing again, and you pout in protest.

Joel shoots a stern look down to you. “Poutin’ don’t typically get us what we want, now does it? Be patient, sweetheart, just a few more minutes.”

You release another upset noise, louder this time, and then he’s pushing his rolling chair back, your grasp around his leg coming apart as he does.

“Came in here actin’ so good and sweet, where’d this bratty girl come from, hm? If there’s somethin’ you want, gotta use your big girl words and ask for it, you know that,” he scolds, his expression becoming more serious.

You hadn’t meant to elicit this reaction from him at all, and it causes your eyes to well up as you stare at the carpet, avoiding his gaze. Opting to answer him with just a shrug, you fidget with your fingers in your lap to distract yourself from the sting behind your eyes. You do attempt to open your mouth and make your desires known to him, but think better of it, and any big girl words you did have swirling around in your brain are replaced by yet another half-hearted little whine.

A whine that sounds… a little familiar to him.

“Oh, I see…” Joel muses, a little less authority in his voice as he assumes a more relaxed position in his desk chair. “I think I know what’s goin’ on here.”

You look up to meet his eyes, tilting your head in confusion. The action prompts his lips to tug into a knowing smile, and he leans forward in his seat, making a beckoning motion with his hand. “C’mere, baby. Between my legs.”

You obey immediately, crawling towards him to close the small distance between you, settling in a kneeling position between his spread thighs. “Good girl,” he praises, and the words make you beam as he cups your chin, the moisture that had been blooming along your water lines now forgotten.

“Think I know why my sweet girl ain’t usin’ her words with me this mornin’...” Joel says, scratching at the soft skin under your chin with his fingertips. You can’t help but lean into his touch, lashes fluttering, and it’s enough to confirm his suspicions.

“Reckon it’s because puppies don’t know to, hm? They just whimper and whine for attention from their Daddies cause they don’t know how to talk, ain’t that right?”

You let out a pathetic little noise when he finally says the word, the one that’s been dampening every pair of panties you own for the past week, but that you’d been too scared to ask to hear again. But you were right after all, you didn’t have to ask for it, because Joel always knows just what you need, somehow.

He uses his grip on your chin to nod your head up and down for you, and continues talking down to you in that gravelly tone of voice that makes you feel like you’re about to melt straight through the floor. “Yeah… ‘F you wanna be Daddy’s lil’ puppy this mornin’, tha’s alright with him. Figured you oughta be missin’ it by now, seein’ as how you liked it so much the first time around…”

You’re barely processing what he’s saying, your lips slack and eyes unblinking as your cunt releases little pulses of slick into your panties. Something about Joel seeing through you so clearly, calling you out on your newly discovered kink and using it to pull you hard and fast into this familiar saccharine headspace, has your whole body burning hot with arousal.

“And if I know one thing about puppies, it’s that they need some trainin’, don’t they? ‘Specially impatient ones like the pretty thing I’ve got sittin’ at my feet. Don’t you agree? Don’t speak, just nod, babygirl.”

It’s unusual for him to request a nonverbal response, as opposed to a Yes, Daddy, but you’re grateful for the change as you allow yourself to fall deeper into your role. You give him what he asks for, a couple of eager nods in quick succession, even though you aren’t quite sure where he’s going with this yet.

“Asked you twice to be good and patient for Daddy, and all I got was poutin’ and whinin’ instead, didn’t I? Think my lil’ pet oughta learn her first command today: Wait. Because good puppies know how to wait for their treats, don’t they, sweet girl? Again, just nod for me.”

And you do, slower and with a little more guilt in your expression this time. But despite him making you admit to your disobedience, you’re not sure you’ve ever been more fucking soaked than you are right now. You’re throbbing, aching, shifting on your knees in an effort to get even the smallest bit of relief. You think you might be releasing little whimpers, but you can’t be sure, already feeling so floaty and far away from just his words alone.

Joel spots your desperate movements, a satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He shifts in his chair, adjusting for his own arousal, and gets an idea.

“On second thought… Got another command I might like to teach you first. Somethin’ a lil easier for that dumb puppy brain of yours to understand, hm?” He tilts his head at you, lips curved into a mocking pout.

Your eyes flutter and roll to the back of your head involuntarily, his degradation prompting the instinctual response from you. Another syrupy slow nod lets him know you’re ready to learn, to obey to the best of your ability.

“Alright, sweet thing. When I say paw, want you to put your hand right on my knee here, ‘kay?” Joel explains, patting his muscled leg for clarity. “Paw, baby, gimme paw,” he coos at you, his tone not dissimilar to the one he uses to speak to actual dogs.

Forcing your brain to work through the dense cloud of submission that shrouds it, you lift your hand and place it on his knee, just like he had demonstrated. His enthusiastic reaction to your obedience startles you at first, but you break into a beaming grin when you see the proud expression he wears.

“Good girl, tha’s a good girl,” he praises, scratching at the top of your head and ruffling your hair. Using his touch as a distraction, Joel places your paw over his hardening bulge with his unoccupied hand, the thick shape of him prominent through his thin sweatpants. He tightens his hand on top of yours, prompting your fingers to squeeze him. He guides your hand into massaging him for a second or two more, long enough for your melted puddle of a brain to connect with the nerve endings in your fingers. Your breath hitches when you realize what it is you’re feeling, your blissed-out expression morphing into a more desperate, wide-eyed one as you focus your attention to the movement of your hands.

“Yeah, feel that, sweet girl? Feel what you do to Daddy by bein’ so good for him?” He prompts, and your thighs squeeze together as you grope him. You can’t help but draw your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it to stifle the needy whimper that threatens to escape.

“You wanna sit on it, pup? Hm? Wanna keep Daddy’s cock nice ‘n warm while he finishes up his work?”

Your aching cunt squeezes around nothing at the premise, and you nod so hard it makes you dizzy. You move to push yourself off the floor and stand up, but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you.

“Ah ah, gotta use your words this time. Speak, baby,” Joel commands, and it takes you a second of searching to find the ability to do so again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, wanna s-sit on it…” you answer softly, and you’ve never heard your own voice sound so wanton. It comes out in a pitch that you almost don’t recognize as your own, featherlight and dreamy and desperate all at once. The need in your voice alone is enough to satisfy him.

“Good girl, just learnin’ all kinds o’ tricks today, aren’t we? Trainin’ you so well… C’mon up here, babygirl,” he permits, and uses his big hands and sturdy forearms to assist you in your awkward and eager climb into his lap. “Take it out, baby, get your treat.”

You whine as you situate yourself atop his thighs, tossing your head back with a dramatic flair, overwhelmed and frustrated by all he’s been asking of you. You just wanted him to turn your brain off, to praise you, to not have to think while he plays with you however he wants, and instead all he’s been doing is asking you to listen, sit, speak, obey. But of course, you should know better by now, that Joel likes making you work for it, to wait for it.

“Hey,” he scolds, grabbing your face and pulling your head forward from where it had flopped between your shoulder blades. “You were doin’ so well, bein’ such a good, obedient girl. Don’t start actin’ up on me now. Could always change my mind, not let you have your treat after all. You want that?”

“No, Daddy…” you admit, your words distorted through the way your cheeks are squished together. He’s not using much force, just enough to keep your focus on him.

“‘S what I thought… Go on then, pup,” Joel commands, and you make quick but clumsy work of freeing his already leaking cock from the loose confines of his sweatpants and briefs. He lets go of your face in favor of placing both of his hands on your hips, lifting you up while you pull your loose shorts and panties to the side, maneuvering his length to just barely prod at your wet little entrance. You flit your eyes from where the two of you meet back up to meet his gaze, hesitating while you look to confirm your permission one last time.

“Sit, puppy,” he says through a smirk, and you release a sharp whimper as you sink down onto his cock.

On instinct, you bury your face in the warm expanse of skin between Joel’s neck and shoulder, rolling your hips back in preparation for a satisfying buck forward. His grip on your skin turns iron, holding you in place and preventing you from chasing after your pleasure.

He cuts off your pout with a strict, “I say you could move?”

“Mmph– No, Daddy,” you mumble into his firm muscle.

He huffs a mocking breath through his nose. “Really are jus’ a dumb lil’ thing for me, ain’t you? You already forget what you’re ‘sposed to be learnin’?” “‘M sorry, Daddy–” the embarrassment from his demeaning words makes you squirm, and his grip on you becomes bruising.

“Don’t need you to be sorry. Jus’ need you to listen. You’re gonna wait like a good girl ‘til I say you can start grindin’ that messy lil’ puppy cunt on me. We clear?” he orders, his deep baritone traveling straight from your ear to your needy core, the dark thatch of hair at the base of his cock already damp as a result.

You hug yourself closer to him, little fingers clawing at his t-shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, and nod meekly.

“Speak,” he spits again.

“Y-yes, Daddy, clear…”, you whine, managing to lift your head up just enough for your voice to come out a little more coherently.

“If I let go so I can finish up my work, you gonna behave and hold still for me?”

You don’t seem to have a choice, but you agree, anyway. “Mhm, yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now wait,” Joel instructs.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, the incessant clicks and clacks of Joel’s keyboard and mouse becoming more and more irritating with each passing second. Those sharp mechanical sounds, the vibration of his chest against yours whenever he clears his throat, the feeling of his pulsing cock as it splits you in two, it’s all so fucking much. You can’t help but release little whimpers and whines, pathetic pleases and Daddys that he either shushes or chooses to ignore. Any slight movement you make in an attempt to relieve some of the ache, he just responds to with a coo of wait, pup, and the tone of his commands as you twitching, clenching around him, soaking his cock more and more. It has to have been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by now, and at this point you’re sure he must be clicking around his desktop aimlessly just to drag out your training a bit longer.

Eventually, the noises stop, and Joel breathes a sigh as he replaces his large hands on your hips, their touch much more gentle this time. You lift your head from his shoulder to face him, wide and watery doe eyes frantically searching his face for a sign that the wait is over, that you’ve finally earned your treat.

He grants you a soft smile, lifting a hand and using it to just barely grasp your chin, tilting your head side to side as he admires you.

“Got such a sweet girl in my lap, don’t I? Knew she could be good, just needed a lil trainin’ hm?”

You nod, already feeling so overwhelmed that your mind has started to drift elsewhere, to the relief you’ll hopefully be feeling in just a few minutes, after he’s finished toying with you.

He releases your chin, ghosting his hand downwards along the column of your throat, stopping when his thumb and fingers are resting on the tops of your collarbones. He doesn’t apply any pressure, just admires the placement of his hand for a moment, then hums.

“Neck would look so pretty with a collar wrapped around it, don’t you think, pup? With a lil’ heart-shaped tag danglin’ from it, engraved with my name so everyone knows that you belong to me? That you’re my puppy, hm?”

Fuck.

The sentiment alone, the domination and ownership of it all, has you crying out your most pathetic noise so far this morning, eyebrows peaked with need as you bite down on your lip so hard you think you might’ve drawn blood. Joel predicts your reaction, clamping down on your hip with his other hand to stop you from moving before he’s decided you’re allowed to.

Again, you nod, willing to agree to anything and everything he wants from you if it means you’re getting closer to getting what you want from him, what you need.

“Say it, baby,” Joel demands of you, his voice calm but commanding.

You tilt your head at him, humming a confused little noise, but he doesn’t elaborate. “Say it, c’mon,” he repeats. Your foggy brain is on a second or two delay, but it catches up eventually, and you realize what he wants to hear.

“I’m y-your… ‘m your puppy,” you say, softly, your voice tinted with embarrassment.

“Wha’s that, sweetheart? Didn’t quite hear you. One more time for Daddy.”

You swallow hard, inhaling a shuddering breath before repeating the phrase a little louder, with a little less control. “I’m your p-puppy, Daddy. I’m your puppy, ‘m Daddy’s–”

“Yeah, y’ are, fuck.”

He moves his hand from the base of your neck back to your hip, and uses his strong grip to hold you still while he begins a series of sharp but rewarding thrusts in and out of your swollen cunt, each one seeming to hit deeper and deeper inside you. Falling against him once more, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and bury your face into him while you let him fuck into you like a doll. His movements are quick and desperate as he growls an incoherent string of filthy praises in your ear, his words accompanied by the sloppy wet sounds of skin on skin.

“Perfect girl, Christ, tight lil’ puppy pussy feels so fuckin’ good, always feels so fuckin’ good. Such a good girl, such a good goddamn girl for Daddy.”

The harsh bounce of your body in his lap jostles every last one of your thoughts from your brain, and he relishes in the animalistic cries and yelps you mumble into the flesh of your upper arm, now damp with your drool. He must feel the moisture as it pools underneath your face and wets the thin fabric of his t-shirt, because then he’s laughing at you, spewing more obscene words at you as he spears you up and down on his cock.

“Shit, are you fuckin’ droolin’ on me, sweetheart? Got this messy cunt and that pretty mouth both soakin’ me, Christ. This cock make you that dumb, hm? You Daddy’s dumb puppy?”

You are, you both fucking know you are, so you agree and repeat it back to him to the best of your fucked-out ability because you know it’s what he wants to hear. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to hear it too, the self-degradation lighting your whole body on fire as some of that heat forms itself into a tight ball in your tummy.

Joel’s hips begin to stutter, his hold on you starting to falter, complete sentences turning into sharply whispered expletives as he nears his orgasm. He can feel you squeezing around him, notices the telltale sign of your muscles tightening and your breathing coming out in short bursts, and uses that four letter word against you one last time.

“Not yet, babygirl, don’t you fuckin’ come for me, not ‘til I say. Wait,” he spits through gritted teeth.

You were so ready, just teetering on the edge of your orgasm, all you needed was a few more jackhammering thrusts and you’d be careening down the steep cliff of it. It takes everything in you to hold it in, to not let go. But you’ve been so good for him, and Joel doesn’t have it in him to torture you much longer, and he permits you to finish just a few minutes later.

“Alright, come, puppy, come for Daddy,” he orders, and you spasm in his lap with a debauched cry, that ball of heat in your tummy dispersing through your bloodstream, igniting every one of your nerves and sending sparks flying behind your eyelids. He reaches his high at the same time, spilling his release inside of you the way you both like.

It takes a few moments for the both of you to come back into yourselves, heaving chests eventually matching each other in a more relaxed rhythm. Joel softly scratches at the back of your head while you place delicate kisses mindlessly along his neck and up behind his ear.

“You were so good, sweetheart. Always take everything I give you so well,” Joel quietly praises next to your ear. He touches his lips to the side of your head, then your temple, then gently maneuvers your face so that he can press a final kiss to your forehead. Your eyelids flutter open in response, and your lips tug into a sleepy grin as you focus on his face. “There she is, my beautiful girl.” He sweeps a few tangled locks of hair away from your face, and even though you know you must look like a mess, you let him admire you anyway.

“Still up to go out for some lunch? After we get ourselves cleaned up ‘n all,” Joel asks, shifting his gaze down to where his spend leaks from you, staining both of your clothes a darker color and dripping onto the fabric of his desk chair.

You pause, chewing on the inside of your cheek for a bit before shaking your head.

“No? Tha’s alright, sweet girl, don’t blame you one bit. You’ll still let Daddy get you cleaned up though, won’t you sweetheart? How’s about I run you a bath with some o’ that new flowery bubble bath you just got, hm?”

You light up at the premise, nodding eagerly, and Joel flashes his handsome smile at you in return. “Alright, hang onto me, baby,” he says, and you wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he scoops you up and carries you to the bedroom, his softening cock still nestled inside you. The two of you detach when he sets you down on the small, handmade wooden bench adjacent to the tub, and leaves only for a moment to retrieve your favorite pink blanket from the living room. He wraps it around your shoulders when he returns, and starts the bath for you. He makes sure to squeeze a generous amount of the bubble bath into the roaring stream of water, ensuring that the bath is sufficiently fragrant and relaxing.

When the tub is full, with mounds of white soap bubbles threatening to spill over the smooth porcelain walls, he helps you strip out of your clothes, tugging your bottoms down your legs as you remove your own top over your head. Joel offers you one of his hands to steady yourself with as you step into the bath and lower yourself into the steaming water. It feels perfect, because just like he knows exactly how you take your coffee, how you want to be fucked without you having to ask, he also knows the almost-too-hot temperature of bathwater you prefer.

He allows you to wash your own body, while he uses the cup you keep by the tub to douse your hair with water, using his rough fingertips to massage your favorite coconut shampoo into your scalp. You’re almost done scrubbing yourself by the time he’s raking conditioner through your damp ringlets, and then he’s rinsing you clean, the humid air in the room now smelling like a dozen different flowers and fruits, all of them mixing together to smell definitively like you. It’s his favorite scent in the whole world.

You don’t exchange many words during your bath, mostly enjoying the intimacy of the activity in silence. The action alone is enough to let you know how deeply the two of you care for each other, how much you trust and love each other.

When the water eventually runs cool, Joel helps you out of the slippery tub, and wraps you in one of your plush bath towels, a lighter shade of pink than your blanket, but just as soft.

“I’ll let you finish up in here, and I’ll see about orderin’ us some delivery, hm? I’ll get you whatever you want, and we can throw on a movie to watch while we eat, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds good, Daddy,” you reply, the bath leaving you feeling refreshed and more like yourself, able to find your voice again.

You settle on ordering your favorite fast food, and it arrives shortly before you tiptoe your way into the living room, your wet hair now pulled up into a clip while the rest of you is dry and comfortable, wrapped in a soft lounge set and your cozy blanket.

“There she is, the Poky Lil’ Puppy,” Joel teases, removing your containers of chicken tenders and fries from the plastic bag they arrived in, setting them on the coffee table in front of the couch.

You giggle at his quip, settling down on the cushion next to him. “I’m not… poky, or whatever,” you reply, in a tone of voice that isn’t sure if you’re supposed to feel complimented or offended.

He looks at you in minor disbelief for a second, then moves his head and brows in a gesture that suggests something like touché. “It’s the name of a kids’ book. Written a lil’ before your time, I guess.”

“Oh… I’ll take it, then.” You settle against Joel’s warm, sturdy form as you munch on a fry, watching the TV screen as he flips through the most promising of the half dozen streaming services he’s subscribed to. “You know…” you start, but let the rest of your sentence drift away, not sure if you want to continue.

“Yeah, babygirl?” he replies, and it encourages you to finish your thought.

“I really liked, um… what we did today. Earlier,” you continue, doing your best to push through your shyness in an effort to get better at communicating your desires with him.

Joel pauses his browsing, putting the TV remote on the table so he can meet your eyes. “In my office, you mean?”

You can’t help but smile cheekily at the memory. “Yeah… I really like being called… that, I think. And if you don’t think it’s too weird–”

“Course I don’t, sweetheart. Would never judge you for likin’ what you like. If it makes you happy, makes you feel good, if it ain’t hurtin’ anyone, then there’s nothin’ wrong with it, baby.” Joel’s turned his upper body to face you now, to make sure you understand the sincerity of his words.

You smile, and his reassurance gives you the confidence to continue. “I really like that… collar idea,” you admit softly. “Maybe we can try that next time.”

He tucks his tongue into the pocket of his cheek, his face forming into a satisfied expression. “Thought you might. Keep bein’ Daddy’s good girl, he just might get you one. Maybe a matchin’ leash, too, somethin’ to tug on when I need you to listen.”

Your eyelids perform their involuntary flutter, a quiet whimper escaping your lungs at the thought.

“Alright, settle down now, baby,” Joel says through a chuckle, shaking his head before kissing the top of your head affectionately. “Got all the time in the world to try whatever we want. Just focus on eatin’ your lunch for now, sweetheart.”

You snuggle up close to him after he starts the movie you both decided on, happily eating your salty and savory meal as you watch. For the rest of the afternoon, you feel warm and satisfied for a few different reasons, the most important one due to how grateful you are to have Joel.

He takes care of you, understands you, and loves you like nobody else ever could. And it’s mornings like these that make you especially aware of that fact. You’ll be his good girl for as long as he wants you to be–forever, hopefully–and he’ll always give you exactly what you need in exchange for it.

Even if that something might be a collar with his name on it, fit for his perfect little puppy.

tag list (no pressure if this one isn't your thing!!) @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw (if your name is crossed out it won't let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

505 notes · View notes

pseudowho · 3 months

Note

As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???

Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)

I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd

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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.

The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--

"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--

With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.

"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"

"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."

"Ah...yeah."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.

Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.

"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--

All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.

You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.

"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"

"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."

"Oh. Like...now?"

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"Daddy, watch this--"

One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.

-----------------------------

"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"

A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.

"Daddy, I was jumpi--"

"Hush. Be more careful."

-----------------------------

"I'll race you--"

"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"

A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.

Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.

A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.

"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."

"...sorry daddy."

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You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.

"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.

"What?"

"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."

Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.

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I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.

-- Haitch xxx

1K notes · View notes

melodygatesauthor · 6 months

Text

Always Yours, Never Mine

Yandere Miguel O'Hara X f!Reader

Universe Four - The Student

Series Masterlist - Beta Read by @campingwiththecharmings

Summary

This time I found you at a university. Of course things couldn’t just be simple. You couldn’t just be a faculty member or even a damn janitor, no…you had to be my fucking student. Why couldn’t things be easy just for once? It’s fine…I’ll just have to figure out how to work around it…

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, dub-con due to identity issues, non-con, rape, More tags on the masterlist.

Word Count: 5k

It was a morning like every other.

You were on your way to your physics class, coffee in hand and your two friends on either side of you, Mira and Stacy. Mira had a skip in her step, excited about a guy she met at the coffee shop just a few minutes ago. You rolled your eyes, too concerned with the results of last week’s test in Dr. O’Hara’s class to be bothered with your friend’s endeavors.

“Hey!” Stacy screamed your name, grabbing your collar and pulling you back from the street and onto the curb.

A car flew by you, stopping your heart in your chest as you moved back from the street two more steps. You were so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t paid any attention to the road. Stacy spat your name in a scolding manner.

“Jesus, you almost got yourself killed, what the hell are you thinking?” She shook her head.

“Thank you,” you said, taking a deep breath, “I guess I’m just…I’m so nervous about my test I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” she agreed, putting both hands on her hips like a parent scolding a child. “I’m sure you did fine on your test. You said you studied right?”

The three of you started walking again toward the building where your classes were held.

“Yeah, I did, but I mean…the last test I took I failed, I can’t fail again.” You felt dread weighing heavy on your chest as the large brick building blocked out the sun on your approach.

Mira patted your back. “You’re smart, I’m sure you did fine.” She chuckled as she jogged ahead toward the building. “Besides! I’m sure that Dr. O’Hara would let you suck his dick for a better grade!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks at Mira’s comment. She never ceased to say things that were embarrassing beyond belief. Everyone knew that Dr. O’Hara was hot. The man wore dress shirts, sure, but either he couldn’t find ones that fit properly, or he intentionally wore a size too small so people would know he worked out. It was hard to think about much else when his pectorals were so prominently displayed under a thin veil of fabric. It didn’t help either that his nipples seemed to be perpetually stiff, clearly visibly underneath his shirt, just like they were today.

“Good morning cl–”

Dr. O’Hara’s failure to finish his sentence caught you off guard, forcing your eyes on him as you walked the rest of the way into the room. You felt nervous, averting your eyes immediately and staring at the floor as you walked to your desk. After your friend’s inappropriate comment, and his lingering gaze, you couldn’t help thinking about things a student shouldn’t imagine about their professor.

Things like…what if you could suck his dick for a better grade?

He cleared his throat. “Alright class, I’m going to pass back your tests now.”

You’d done a fine job on your exam. Miguel’s predecessor, the Miguel of this universe, had already graded your paper and even put a little smiley face next to the number 87 in red ink. It was obvious that this one hadn’t made any moves on you, but he had taken a liking to you. That wouldn’t work in Miguel’s favor though. He needed you to be so desperate that you might be willing to go to great lengths to get your grade fixed.

The jealousy that stabbed Miguel in the gut when he realized that his alternate was enraptured by you made it easy to rid himself of the man. In fact, he felt nothing as he watched the life leave Miguel’s eyes. He felt nothing as he buried the man so far into the ground that no one would ever find his body.

It wasn’t that Miguel wanted to be predatory toward you, in fact, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it was clear that you were younger in this universe than in previous ones. Your birth date was the same, he saw it in your records on the school database before he took over for your prior professor, but the year was different. He’d already gone through great lengths just to find you, so what was a little manipulation just to have you? You’d be grateful in the end, he just knew it.

He passed the tests around, watching you carefully to gauge your response to his little note he made at the top of your test.

Come to my office after your classes so we can discuss your grade and your future in my class.

You looked down at the glaring 62 on your exam with the note to meet Dr. O’Hara in his office later. A pit formed in your gut. The words, ‘your future in my class’, stuck out more than the rest. You gulped, hands shaking as you put the failed test in your book bag and turned your attention back to class. You hated that professors seemed to do that, handing out your tests prior to the start of class. How in the hell were you expected to focus for the rest of the class with the looming threat that you might be told to retake the class next semester?

He felt a little bad after seeing your face drop at the sight of the failed exam. In some ways Miguel missed the therapist. She was bold, more mature, and he felt like she was, personality-wise, the closest to you he had found thus far. In this universe you were naive, young, bright-eyed and inexperienced. In some ways that was exciting, thinking about how easy it would be to mold you into the woman he’d lost, or at least as close to the original as possible. In other ways he didn’t love the idea of corrupting you like that.

It didn’t matter though, in the end as long as he had you, whether by moral means or immoral, that’s all that mattered.

Later that evening, shortly after finishing your final class for the day, you found yourself standing outside of Dr. O’Hara’s office, knuckles rapping on the door in an uneven rhythm. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears was deafening while you waited for him to open the door. Earlier you and your friends had joked about what you were going to do in there, but this wasn’t a movie, this was reality, and your professor wasn’t going to let you sleep your way out of a bad grade.

Not that you really wanted to do that anyway.

Your unusually tall professor opened the door, stepping back to let you inside. He was quiet when he locked the door, so quiet that you wouldn’t even notice he’d done it. You seemed a little smaller in this universe. Miguel wondered if it was because you were actually shorter, or if the fact that you were younger made it seem to be the case.

“I don’t understand why I got such a bad grade, Dr. O’Hara,” you turned to face him, failed test in hand, eyes already glistening wet with the threat of tears. “I worked really hard after you helped me understand it better.”

Fuck, he thought. His cock was already springing to life, slowly making his pants feel tighter while he looked at you. This was new territory that he didn’t know how to navigate. This wasn’t the type of person Miguel wanted to be, but he also wanted to start establishing his control over you now. If he could control you, he could keep you safe; he could have you.

“Yeah well, as you can see…” he snatched the test from your hand, “you didn’t do a very good job, did you?”

Something was different about Dr. O’Hara, you felt it as he ripped the paper from your hands. He was normally a very calm and collected type of professor, everyone loved him for that. You couldn’t understand why he was acting so harshly now. You clutched your book bag closer to yourself as though it would teleport you out of the room. He took a step closer, and you stepped back until your rear was against his desk. You felt trapped.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he said, seeing the terror in your expression. Miguel’s intention wasn’t to make you fear him, but at the same time, he was willing to do what it took to make you listen for once, since your alternates didn’t seem to pay his warnings any mind. “Look, I’d be willing to…fix your grade.”

He’d hoped that when he said it like that you would get the hint so he didn’t have to spell it out for you. Surely you’d seen enough pornos to know where this was going, right? It would make it less guilt inducing for him, and a lot less scary for you, at least that’s what he was thinking.

“Fix it how? Is there extra credit?” You decided to continue on like you didn’t know what he was playing at.

“You could say that,” he said, taking another step toward you.

There was no way he meant what you thought he meant. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that you were supposed to fuck your way into a better grade could he? That was just a stupid joke you and your friends had laughed about, albeit frequently, but it was just a joke. He couldn’t be serious.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering down to his tight-fit slacks and the way they were especially tight around his groin. You gulped, looking back up at his eyes quickly, trying to appear not to have seen anything. Maybe if you kept your eyes anywhere but on his bulge it would go away, and he would let this go.

But you wouldn’t be so lucky.

Miguel took another step forward, bringing a hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb along your skin gently. He smirked, feeling satisfied to touch you again. Spending all the time in the last universe, he’d almost forgotten what you felt like.

“I’m not going to hurt you, and if you just listen to me you might even enjoy yourself.”

No matter how much you told yourself to run, to kick, to scream, you just stood there while Dr. O’Hara leaned forward, claiming your mouth in his and melting into you. He lifted you onto the desk like you were weightless, pushing himself against you until he was almost laying on top of you. You kissed him back, but the rest of you was frozen, unsure how to respond. Should you even be allowing this to happen, or should you be trying to stop him?

What would you do anyway? Fight him off? The man was built like a damn tank. You could work out for a hundred years and still never come close to moving him. On the bright side, you would probably pass your class, though this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. This wasn’t what you wanted at all.

“P-please, Dr. O’Hara, s-stop–”

“Shh,” he whispered, kissing you deeper, “you want me to fix your grade right? You want to pass this class? Hm?”

He looked down at you, waiting for your answer, the guilt still nagging at him as he noticed a stray tear fall down the side of your face.

You nodded. “Y-yes, yes I do.”

“Then be quiet, and do what I say,” he demanded, sliding a massive hand up your skirt, his fingers teasing at the hem of your panties.

Your mind was racing with feelings you could hardly comprehend. On one hand, your body was tingling an overwhelming desire, a need to feel his touch in the most intimate way. His thick index finger tucked into the leg of your panties, knuckles sliding softly over your pussy lips. When he kissed you it didn’t feel like a dirty professor trying to take advantage, but rather a lover who wanted to take his time with you.

On the other hand, he was much older than you, and he was your professor. Not to mention the fact that you weren’t really interested in sleeping with him, despite the teasing from you and your friends.

That didn’t seem to matter now, he was pulling your underwear down your thighs and tossing them to the floor. He rubbed the pads of his index and middle fingers over your clit, forcing a choked whimper to escape your lungs. You thought about protesting his actions again, but decided against it. You didn’t want to piss him off, and you didn’t want to fail the class.

“There you go, honey,” he whispered against your lips, “don’t squirm too much okay? You’ll like it, I know you will.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to say otherwise. Dr. O’Hara pushed you down so your back was flat against the desk, his large hand pressed against your abdomen while his other started to undo his pants. You didn’t even want to look at it, so you stared out the window and kept your eyes trained on the gate at the entrance to the college campus. He exhaled a low and deep breath as he dragged the tip of his cock along your folds.

“Look at me, hermosa,” his voice was low, but still demanding.

You complied, turning your head slowly to look at him. Miguel tried to convince himself that you would come around, that you were just nervous for your first time together. He wasn’t an idiot, and he wasn’t delusional either, but he needed to believe that you would come around, because working with the you that was right in front of him was better than the unknown of whatever versions he may encounter in other universes. ‘The devil you know’, and all that.

“Hold on tight, honey,” he warned, sliding his dick through your slick entrance. He couldn’t even make it halfway in before it was too tight. “F-fuck baby…shit.”

You cried out, all of your resolve falling to the wayside. It hurt, it hurt so fucking bad.

“Dr. O’Hara pleas–��

Before you could even finish your plea his hand was covering your mouth. He shook his head, eyes narrowing dangerously in warning. You tried to beg with your eyes, your small sobs blocked by the brick wall of his palm only serving to make his cock throb inside your cunt. You grabbed onto his forearm, gripping it so tight your nails dug into his skin, but it may as well have been a pillar, unmoving and sturdy while he kept your mouth covered.

“Honey, please,” he hissed, his breaths of arousal interrupting his irritated tone. “I know it’s painful now but if you just relax, I’ll stretch you out so it won’t hurt anymore alright?”

You didn’t respond, and Miguel felt the guilt in his chest. The guilt didn’t outweigh the delicious feeling of your hole squeezing around the mere three inches he’d managed to get inside. He slid forward a little more, your eyes rolled back in response, your breaths turned into labored panting while you took him further.

“You’re doing great, hermosa,” he encouraged, “taking me so well.”

Your legs tightened around his waist as your cunt stretched even wider around him. He was bigger than anything you’d ever felt, and you couldn’t get free from him. Finally he bottomed out inside you, when you looked down at where you were connected you could see a bulge in your abdomen. Your eyes widened in fear, as though seeing it made it feel that much bigger.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he cooed, rolling his hips back and then snapping forward again, forcing a guttural groan to erupt from deep within you. “That’s it, fuck, so tight-that’s-it.”

Miguel established a steady rhythm that was made easier by how wet your little hole got. At least you’re physically enjoying yourself, he thought to himself, still trying to ease the guilt brewing inside him. His free hand grabbed onto your thigh, leveraging himself even deeper. The sight of his fat cock bulging up through your stomach made him harder, if that were even possible. He thought, for only a second, about the fact that you might not be on birth control, but then decided he didn’t really give a shit.

Your makeup was ruined, black rivers running down your cheeks while you cried even harder. When Miguel looked down at where your pussy was split around his dick he could see why, you’d made a bloody mess between both your bodies. He questioned why he thought that was hot. Causing you pain shouldn’t feel that good, but it did, the sight of your blood making his pace even faster.

“Didn’t know you had such a little pussy,” he breathed between thrusts, “so tight, so-wet-fuck.”

When Miguel thought about it, the two of you - himself and you from the original universe -, never got that rough. It wasn’t something he knew he would like, having power over you like that, causing you pain and listening to your cries. Hearing you whimper now though, laying on his desk with your legs wrapped around him while he split you open, was making him feral. If making you cry was bad, then why the hell did it feel so fucking good?

“Are you going to come for me, honey?” He asked in a low whisper.

You didn’t answer, you just kept your eyes on his, a silent prayer that he would stop. He couldn’t stop now though, he was so damn close.

“Next time m-maybe, holy-shit-fuck-fuck-FUCK!”

His hips snapped forward, stuttering and halting against yours. You felt the searing hot ropes of his spend while it spilled inside your walls, cock throbbing and stretching you further with every spurt. His breathing was deep, low, and you guessed that if he weren’t afraid of being caught he would be much more vocal. He tossed his head back, using the hand that was on your hip to push his hair from where it fell into his eyes.

Once he was finished, Miguel released your mouth, the post-orgasm clarity making his guilt take over tenfold.

“Shit,” he muttered, pulling out of you, the sudden feeling forcing a quiet cry from your swollen, trembling lips.

You didn’t speak. Now that he was finished you didn’t have words to say. What could you say? ‘You’re a monster’? ‘How could you do this to me’? ‘Why would you do this to me’? None of his answers would matter, and part of you still wondered if you’d asked for it some way. What else did you think your professor wanted you to come into his office for after all the classes had ended for the day? The red flags had been waving in your face and you ignored them. Maybe, somewhere deep down, you wanted this all along.

—

“Good morning handsome,” you said, laughing and wiping a bit of spit from Miguel’s stubbled cheek, “you were out. Having a good dream?”

—

Miguel shot up in bed, quickly realizing that he was dreaming, the reminder of that day still so fucking clear in his mind.

He looked at the calendar sitting above the coffee maker in his apartment. Well, his apartment. It had already been four long weeks that he’d spent in that universe trying desperately to get you to like him. He could tell by the look on your face though that you were still terrified of him.

He wondered if he should just leave, call it quits for this universe and move on to the next one. Miguel couldn’t shake the probability that something might be worse in the next universe though. What if he traveled there only to find that you were already dead? What if the next ten universes took him years to get through and eventually he was too old to keep looking for you? No matter how he looked at it, logically speaking, it was still better to try and work with the you in front of him, than to risk the unknown.

You couldn’t put into words the way you felt when you saw Dr. O’Hara every week in your physics class. You started sitting toward the back, hoping some other girl might grab his attention instead, but it never worked. He continued to summon you to his office in the late evenings, and he continued to fuck you until you could barely walk your way out of his office.

He terrified you.

And that terrified him.

“Dr. O’Hara,” the head of student affairs walked into Miguel’s office, pushing the already ajar door open and stepping inside.

“Oh, hi, Janice,” Miguel said, feeling his body become tense.

You better not have opened your fucking mouth, he thought.

“One of your students…” your name coming out of her mouth made him start to sweat, “...came to me and said she would like to drop out and take this class another semester. She said it doesn’t fit into her schedule right now so we need you to sign–”

“Halfway through the semester?” He asked, tone sharper than he intended. “No. She’s doing so well it would be a mistake.”

“It’s not really up to–”

“What’s the cutoff date for this kind of thing? Isn’t there always a cutoff date?”

“This Thursday is the–”

“No.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“Let me talk to her.”

The woman sighed, handing him the paper, “I think it’s a mistake too, for the record. It would be a shame to have to do all that work all over again.”

The woman left, the sound of her clicking heels fading as she walked down the hall. Miguel looked at the sheet of paper, hands shaking as he looked down at your signature. There it was. The same signature on your fucking marriage certificate, right there, telling him that you’d had enough and wanted to leave him.

He slammed his office door and walked over to his bag, the one where he kept your wedding photo. He hadn’t looked at it much since he’d left the original universe. The image of the two of you together brought him nothing but pain. He wanted you back so badly he was willing to rape a poor college girl that looked just like you in order to live in a fantasy that, deep down, he knew would never really hold a candle to the reality he once had.

Looking back he remembered the day of your wedding, the way you looked took his breath away. He was still mad that the therapist hadn’t worked out, if only she’d listened. Even the barista wasn’t too bad. She was a bit mouthy, but…no, he couldn’t stand the damn barista. She was a lost cause the moment she broke up with him.

Something told him that this version of you, the student, wasn’t going to work out from the beginning. He wanted it so badly though. When he tried to imagine a world where he could be happy with that version of you, he couldn’t. Even in the event he was able to convince you to marry him, or hell, even go on a date with him, he knew it would be all done in fear. You’d never look at him the way you did.

You would never love him.

You startled him when you opened the door to his office unannounced. You could tell because he scrambled to put something into his bag as you entered. His gaze was still so harsh, and you thought maybe you shouldn’t have come at all, but you were afraid your consequences would be harsher if you ignored his long standing request to meet him in the office during the evenings. You closed the door behind yourself, knowing that he would probably do it anyway if you didn’t do it yourself.

This is the last time, you thought. You do this one more time and then you’re done.

You hoped that by giving him what he so clearly wanted from you one last time, and perhaps being mature about it, you could convince him to let you go.

“D-Dr. O’Hara I–”

“You’re trying to drop out of my fucking class?” He snapped, eyes shooting spears through you.

You gulped, stepping toward the door, immediately regretting closing it behind yourself.

“W-well yes but I came to, um…well I thought we could–”

“Thought we could what?” He asked, standing quickly.

Regardless if you’d never love him, he was going to have to work with what he had, and right now he had a crying twenty something in front of him who was willing to do anything he said.

“We can do it just one more time and then I want to leave your class,” you whispered.

Dr. O’Hara strode over to you slowly, each step a booming quake that tore through what little determination you’d had when walking in there. He grabbed your jaw in his hand, leaning forward so his lips were against your ear. You hated that your body had become conditioned to react pleasantly to his touch, a tingling sensation spreading down to your core.

“What did you say?” He hissed against your ear.

You couldn’t speak. You wanted to repeat yourself. You wanted to convince him that this was what was best for both of you since getting caught would surely end his career. No matter how much you willed yourself to speak though, not a fucking word came out. The only sound you made was a pathetic whimper, a dumb little sound that you knew he liked; he always moaned whenever you made it.

“That’s what I thought, hermosa,” he whispered, “you can come back to my office tonight, and I’ll take good care of you like I always do, hm?”

He let go of you and stepped back, eyes scanning over your body and taking it all in as he had so many times before.

“Well, I-I can’t come tonight,” you admitted hastily, as though you might choke on the words if you didn’t spit them out.

“Why?” Dr. O’Hara’s eyes snapped to yours.

“Well my friends and I were going out tonight and–”

“No,” he said firmly, “you’re coming back here.”

Perhaps he’d said it too harshly, but knowing that there was a good possibility that this was the night of your death, your ‘canon event’ as he’d taken to calling it, he couldn’t risk you leaving his sight.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the dark glare in his eye told you that arguing was futile. It was clear that whatever this had started as, an exploitative endeavor, had turned into some sort of obsession that you weren’t going to be able to get out of easily.

“Please,” you mouthed, keeping your eyes on the floor.

He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt so much guilt. Could he really keep this up? Would he really be able to spend the rest of both your lives looking into your fearful eyes and convince himself that it was alright? As long as he had you it didn’t matter if you were a little afraid…right?

“I know this is hard for you to understand, so I’ll make it simple for you,” he moved to grab you, but you slipped under his arm and started backing away.

“Stop doing this, please,” you were trying to get away from him now, another sign that this was probably a dead-end universe for him.

Miguel couldn’t imagine much worse than you being dead, but you feeling so afraid of him that you died trying to get away from him was right up there. He wondered if closing his oversized office window would’ve still resulted in your demise that night.

“Honey, I’m sorry, if you can just come here and have a seat we can talk–”

“No!” You yelled, continuing to back up, the open window at your back.

Miguel took a step forward.

“I’m not going to hurt you, let’s just–”

“You already did!” Your lips were trembling, your whole body was tense, “Stay away from me!”

“Mi vida, please!”

He watched you hit the low-sitting window sill. The school would get sued, no doubt, for not putting a screen, or at least some form of safety precaution, in place to prevent your fall from three stories up. He looked over the window sill, watching the blood spread from your body outward, covering the pavement below.

Miguel genuinely felt bad. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was losing you again. No, this wasn’t really like losing you. This felt more like guilt around causing the death of some college student who happened to look almost exactly like you, but she wasn’t really you.

In all honesty, appearance was the only thing this girl had in common with you. So Miguel wouldn’t shed a tear for her, though he would hold on to the turmoil he’d caused you in that universe for a while. He’d wear it with him to the next one, like a pin he’d collected as a souvenir. That thought actually made him laugh. It was the laugh of a man gone mad, but a laugh nonetheless.

Maybe by the end of his journey he’d have a whole stash of pins. Perhaps he’d be so weighed down by them that he wouldn’t be able to move anymore. It was entirely possible that a suitable replacement didn’t exist, and that maybe he’d never find the perfect one.

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Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara imagine #yandere miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara noncon #miguel o'hara noncon #miguel o'hara non-con #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fan fiction #miguel o’hara x reader

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back2bluesidex · 6 months

Text

Best Fucking Friends - JHS & PJM (18+)

Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.

Pairing: Hoseok X fem!reader X Jimin

Theme: PWP, Smut, threesome (?) NSFW!!!

Wordcount: 2k+

Summary: Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.

Warnings: Explicit sex, unprotected sex (it's a no no), throat fucking, tit play, oral (both party receiving), little bit of insecure reader, jimin is blonde (yeah, that's a warning). tell me if there's more.

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: enjoy the flith.

It’s almost pathetic how you are standing at your best friends’ door, wearing a thin tshirt and a pair of sweatpants, hair disheveled, sticking to every direction because of the tantrum you threw earlier.

Two bottles of soju and a dozen beer cans dangling from your arms resting inside two black polyethene. Heavy indeed, but you can manage.

You jab at the doorbell again, way too impatient to get inside your comforting nest, in their comforting embrace, but you don’t know what’s taking them so long.

After almost 3 minutes of keeping you outside, Jimin finally opens the door and his eyebrows shoot to reach his hairline.

“Y/N? hey?” he speaks through his plump lips but you are way too angry and frustrated to give into his ethereal beauty.

“What the fuck took you so long? It’s been a lifetime since I started ringing the bell!” you spat at him, shoving him aside as you welcome yourself inside their apartment.

“Ah! We thought our neighbor was here again to complain about our overflowing trash.” Jimin follows you inside as he takes a look at the items you are placing one by one on their coffee table.

“I thought you had a date with your dumbass boyfriend today?” Jimin places carefully and you ignore his question.

“Where is Hobi?” grabbing a beer can, you jump on their plush couch. God! You love this couch more than your own.

“Taking a shower but that’s not important! You just ignored my question. Is everything alright or not, Y/N?” Jimin’s expression turns serious as he comes and sits down beside you. You ignore him again, taking a big and loud gulp from the beer can.

The bathroom door clicks open and your other best friend walks out… wearing only a bathrobe.

Your eyes fall on Hoseok and you almost choke on the beer.

The loose neck of the bathrobe hangs low on his sharp collarbones, water drips down from his wet jet black hair and drops on his chest, and gradually gets soaked in the fluffy material of the robe.

You shamelessly check him out even when you know Jimin's basically sitting beside you and can see you thirsting over his roommate slash best friend. And if you are not wrong, you probably see Jimin smirking a bit.

“Y/N?” Hobi exclaims as soon as he notices you sitting on the couch, “didn’t you have a date?”

That’s it! You come to your best friends for some solace but all they have to talk about.. Is your date!

“Why the fuck do you guys have to talk about him? He dumped me! Do you guys hear what I am saying? He fucking dumped me!!” you scream at the top of your lungs. Your eyes turn blurry and before you close them you see Hoseok running to you.

Within a moment, you find yourself being sandwiched between two warm bodies, one slightly wet and another way too soft.

Before you know, you start crying, “that fucker said he doesn’t feel the same way for me anymore! He said he found someone else and thinks that she is the soulmate he was looking for! That nutjob!”

Jimin rubs on your back saying, “it’s his loss, completely his loss.”

“I thought we could be something. I thought- he loves me! Fuck! I am a fool! Why would anyone fall for a cold, short-tempered, not-so-attractive 27 year old like me?” you shout again, voice already hoarse.

“Stop talking nonsense.” Hoseok rolls you into a sharp rebuke, “since when you are so low on your confidence? Did you forget how many guys you had warped around your fingers back in our uni days? Nothing has changed since then. You are still very much attractive and you still have at least two guys all whipped for you.”

Two guys? Wait! He isn’t referring to him and Jimin, is he?

“Which two? Show me?” you reply, trying to sit straight on the couch.

“Us” the hushed word comes out of Jimin’s lips. You whip your head to meet his eyes.

“What? What do you-”

“You know what we mean, Y/N.” Hoseok says softly. You again turn your head to take the man in. your eyes bore into his darker ones and you realize your usual jolly Hobi is very much serious now.

“Since when? And both of you? Wait! Don’t tell me you guys have fought over me or something?” Both of them break into laughter at this.

“Not at all, darling. We aren’t highschool kids. We are grown up men and we know the pleasure of sharing.” Jimin speaks in a very sultry tone and that’s when you finally take a good look at the blonde man.

Jimin has this gender-neutral charm that can rock anyone off their shoes. You will be lying if you say you are completely immune to those beautiful eyes, smooth blonde hair, perfect set of white teeth, that round juicy booty and especially those plump lips of his. Only you know how many times you imagined the taste of those pink muscles.

However, that’s it.

You didn’t think of taking your thoughts any further, especially when you have a big fat crush on your other best friend.

You have always been on your knees for Hoseok since your university days. But you have always admitted the fact that he is way too good for you. So, you tkept your feelings bottled successfully.

You might not be a giddy mess around him anymore but doesn't that mean you don’t feel weak for the man, especially when he is sitting right beside you, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and practically confessing that he has a crush on you too?

What the fuck?

“Sharing? You guys wanna share me? h-how?” you shutter, being completely aware of what you are asking.

Hoseok looks at Jimin and gives him a knowing lopsided smile.

“You wanna see how? Answer in yes or no.” Hoseok’s aura changes in a heartbeat and the sentence comes out less like a statement and more like an order.

“Y-yes.” You shutter again.

“Good girl” Jimin whispers right behind your ear, “then you will do as we say, right?”

“Yes” this time your voice comes out breathy. You already feel heat on your core even though the men haven’t even touched you yet.

“You trust us, right?” Hoseok voices softly, as he tucks a stary strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah.” another lone word slips past your lips.

“Let us take the charge then. And tell us to stop whenever you feel like. Okay?” Hoseok’s eyes flood with warmth and darkness at the same time and you don’t know how it is even possible. So you just nod in agreement.

“Strip.” Jimin says firmly and your eyes go wide.

“W-what?” you ask for confirmation.

“You heard me.” He states. You have never seen Jimin this serious for the entire 8 years of knowing him. You take a look at Hoseok, who seems to be waiting for you to comply with Jimin’s order.

So you do.

Standing up on your feet, you slip out of your tshirt first, then your pants, then your bra and lastly your underwear. Just when you are about to throw your underwear away, Jimin extends his hand towards you, clearly asking for the article.

You place it on his palms, embarrassed of the tiny wet patch caused by your impromptu arousal.

“Bunny, huh?” Jimin chuckles at the cartoon bunny printed on the front side of your panty. He caresses the material for a moment and then takes it to his nose and inhales sharply. You start leaking due to his actions.

You are way too busy with Jimin that you don’t see Hoseok ravishing your naked form with his eyes. He is very impatient. Finally after 8 years he is about to get the chance to taste you but you are too busy to observe Jimin’s antics. So he tugs at your hand and gains your attention.

“Lay down, angel, let me have a taste.” Hoseok’s voice dips down a few octaves lower causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Jimin takes the hold of your upper body and leans it down on the backrest of the couch. Hoseok moves on his feet, sits down on his knees right between your legs.

Parting your legs gently, he hums in satisfaction, “umm.. Wet already.”

The way Hoseok eyes your cunt, makes you gush out more arousal. The slick drips down your core causing Hoseok’s mouth to water.

On the other hand, Jimin starts placing small, wet kisses on your jawline. Even though his position is a bit awkward, that doesn’t seem to bother him.

His kisses travel down to the south and reach to your cleavage. But before you could react to that you feel a wet muscle testing your slicked slit. You look down to find Hoseok staring straight at you while lapping up your juices rapidly from your cunt.

Jimin has also started licking at your perked nipples, flicking and biting those to his heart’s content.

Fuck! It’s too much. Having your tits and cunt eaten out at the same time? A pleasure you never thought you would experience, that too, by your very own best friends.

Hoseok takes your clit into his mouth while stretching your wet heated hole with two of his fingers right when Jimin digs his fingers into one of your tit and bites your other nipple harshly.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” you moan out a string of curses. Heads on the cloud, you feel euphoric. What in the world did you do in your past life to deserve this pleasure?

You start clenching around Hoseok’s fingers as he keeps on abusing your clit with his practiced tongue. He knows you are close.. You know it too.

“Are you gonna cum, angel?” Hoseok whispers. His mouth and nose glistens with your arousal. You nod.

A harsh slap lands on your wet tit. “Use your words, bunny.” Jimin commands.

“Yes. yes gonna cum- ah! Fuck!” Hoseok cuts you off mid sentence by twisting his fingers and pressing down on your g-spot.

And you cum unannounced, on Hoseok’s tongue. He sucks up every last bit of it.

“Look at her, hyung. She drenched you.” Jimin’s tone is sultry, lust drips from it.

Hoseok chuckles darkly, “think of how much she would cum on our dicks, Jimin-ah!”

You know they are teasing you and you would fight them usually but right now you are defenseless, in your post orgasm glory and you want them to keep going.

“Fuck me please.” you murmur, pulling yourself out of your fucked up state, “fuck my cunt and mouth at the same time, please. Please!” you beg.

They look at each other for a brief moment, coming to terms, Jimin says, “You sure you can take it?”

“Yes! Yes I can.” your breath gets heavier with the anticipation of their cocks inside you one by one.

You take one of both of their hands and place those on either of your tits.

“Fuck me.. Please.” you beg, yet again.

“Fuck, Y/N. you will be the end of us.” Hoseok bites his lips,as he squeezes your supple flesh, he continues, “On your fours, ass up, right now.”

You oblige.

Jimin walks behind you and you know, he will be the one to fuck you first. Hoseok stands right in front of your face. He slips out of his bathrobe. His cock stands tall and proud. You start salivating at his sight.

Talk about length and girth, he got it all.

Craning your neck you take a look at Jimin. He, too, is naked now. And his cock is literally the most beautiful one you have ever seen.

Hoseok places his hand on your chin, tilting your head back at him, he mutters, “are you ready, angel?”

You reply saying yes.

“Open both of your holes wide of us then.” he commands, you comply.

Soon your throat and cunt fill with a pair of dicks belonging to you two hot best friends. And you can’t be happier.

Guess, your dumbass ex-boyfriend did the right thing for once by dumping you. Your best friends are more than happy to fuck you into oblivion.

#bts smut #jimin smut #hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x you #jimin x you #hoseok x you #bts fanfictions #jimin fanfic #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfiction #bts jimin #bts hoseok #bts

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hihhasotherfixations · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 12: Hate/Angry sex - Price x Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

CW: fem!reader, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), unprotected p in v, angry Price - though not at you

So, the reason these fics of the last few days are late are cause ‘twas my birthday! So I’m catching up now but I figured for my birthday day fic I’d go a little more out than usual, hehe. Enjoy Price using you to blow off some steam ;3

Word Count: 3468

Walking in through the door, John slammed it shut, an anger and vitriol radiating off of him that had you wide-eyed and silent in a second, sitting on the couch and watching him.

“John?” You asked, but it was like he didn’t even hear you as he kicked off his boots, dropping his bag with only a little too heavy a thunk before he stalked into the house, an angry frown on his face.

Immediately, he walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a scotch and pouring himself a hefty glass, not even bothering with the ice he usually so meticulously put in whenever he poured himself a drink.

Leaning back on the couch, you looked at him, a worried look on your face. “John. Big bear.” You finally got his attention with the horrible nickname you only ever used to tease him, though this time, there was not a hint of teasing or mischief on your face, your brows pulled up in worry. “What’s wrong?”

Taking in the deepest breath you’d seen him take in a long time, it almost seemed as if he was trying to reel in his anger before he sighed out deeply, rounding the couch and crashing down into it right next to you, nearly sitting down on you and spilling his drink; though it was clear his mind was somewhere else as his face twisted up in frustration. “Fucking Norris thinks he can ground my team because he’s ‘higher rank’.” He spat, making air quotes at the end as he took off his hat and slammed it onto the coffee table.

“Whoa, hey, what happened?” You ask, placing your hand on his thigh, to which John started tapping his fingers into his knee.

“Colonel Norris – bastard that he is – decided to ground my team because of a mistake his men made while we worked together a month back. An op went wrong because of it and now he’s making it a whole case, trying to spin it on my team.” John seethed, his fingers stopping their tapping as he instead started bouncing his right leg, frustrated. “Because it’s being investigated, we’re not allowed to go out until it’s solved. But we had a fucking target right in our grasp-!” John sat up, his hand wringing an imaginary neck before he huffed out a frustrated breath, falling back into the couch as he covered his eyes with his hand.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” You frowned and John sighed deep, sitting straight to throw back half of his drink in one go, barely even reacting to the burn as it glid down his throat.

“We’re not getting this guy in our sights again. It took me three months to track him down and right as we were planning a mission to get him, Norris comes with this shit!” He hissed, partially turned to you now, just ranting to you. “And I’ve had problems with Norris in the past in Urzikstan but back then it could be excused by him simply following orders from higherup, but this time it’s completely him and I’m bloody done with this bastard!” He growled to you, a fire in his eyes that didn’t seem to want to die out anytime soon.

“Is there anything you can do?” You asked, hoping to diffuse the situation a bit though it had the complete opposite effect, firing John up even further.

“I already tried everything! I sent e-mails, told Norris in person to just hold it off for a week, spoke in meetings about it but this molded muppet used his rank to override any of my requests!”

Seeing he was not going to be stopping, you knew you had to do something.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do my job when he is coming in here during one of the most vital times happening in the last half a year?! For a thing we didn’t even do?! It’s ridiculous and I’m gonna-!” “John- John?” You stopped him mid-ramble, turning his face towards you. “You’re getting too worked up. You need to blow off some steam.” You spoke softly, watching him huff out a breath as he tried to reel himself in, realizing himself he was just throwing everything on you now.

“I know, but I really can’t be bothered. I’m not going to the gym and I’m through my cigars this month. I’m not doing anything else today, sorry Y/N but-“ “That’s not what I meant.” You interrupted him again.

At that, his brows furrowed in confusion and you shifted on the couch, leaning towards him and placing your free hand directly on his crotch, your lips centimeters away from his, causing his breath to hitch.

“Plenty of ways to blow off steam without leaving the house.” You whispered and John groaned, shifting as just your touch – palming him – had him turning hard ridiculously fast.

“Darling, it won’t be pretty.” He gasped softly, trying to keep his composure as he closed his eyes, his lips pressed in a tight line while he leaned forward to slowly place his partially drank scotch on the coffee table.

You however, leaned in and started peppering kisses down his neck while he moved back to lean properly into the couch, having deposited his drink. “I don’t need pretty. Seeing you so worked up is just doing things to me.” You admitted, continuing to palm his crotch, feeling his erection straining against the fabric of his uniform.

Groaning, John just threw caution to the wind, grabbing your hips and yanking you onto his lap, his mouth slamming into yours.

You barely had any time to squeak before it was a mess of teeth clacking and tongue, John wasting not a single moment to claim your mouth for himself while his hands went down and tightly grabbed your ass, squeezing.

Pulling your hips into his, he practically forced you to straddle him as he began to thrust up, rocking his bulge against your crotch desperately.

It rubbed straight against your clit, making your eyes flutter shut as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing back with fervour.

His hands wouldn’t stop groping your ass, running up and down the expanse of it before he released his right hand, using it to smack the flesh hard. “Take it off.” He commanded, barely breaking the kiss to say it, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

“O-Okay.” You whispered, trying to catch your breath from the intensity and suddenness of the situation, only to get a firm squeeze to your rear again - you better hurry up.

Getting off his lap, you took off your pants, pushing them down and stepping out of them before looking at your husband.

His eyes were roving your thighs, his pupils blown out before he reached out and held you by the back of the thigh, right under your ass as he pulled you in. “Be good for me and take it all off.” He rumbled as he slid forward on the couch, leaning in to place his lips to the front of your panties, grazing his teeth across it and making you shudder.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, getting an approving squeeze to your thighs as you then pulled your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra as well.

While you did that, John’s hands roamed up your ass, slipping under the fabric of your undies and up until he turned his hands around and gripped the fabric, bunching it up before tearing it off your ass, leaving you completely naked as he simply dropped it to the floor.

Gasping as he ruined your panties and threw them, you didn’t even have time to protest as John locked his arms under your ass and lifted you as he got to his feet, starting to carry you to the bedroom.

“God, you’re exactly what I need right now.” He murmured against your stomach, his beard rubbing across your skin, making you close your eyes.

“Use me however you want.” You whispered, one of your hands tangling in his hair, making the man groan softly.

“Are you sure, love?” He asked, kissing your stomach while he kicked open the bedroom door, only half an eye used to navigate his way around the house.

“Positive.” You smiled and a little growl left the man.

Before you knew it, you were dropped onto the bed, your husband crawling over you with intent. Yet before he could fully eclipse you, you placed your hand against his chest, stopping him.

“What?” He grumbled, clearly unhappy by being stopped but you just smiled.

Seeing the sly look in your eye, John narrowed his own, trying to deduce what you were planning as you slowly moved out from under him, sitting up while he followed until you lowered yourself off the bed and down onto the floor.

“Thought I could do what I wanted.” He challenged, his chest deeply moving up and down, betraying how worked up he actually was.

“I’m just here to help you along.” You grinned, moving between his legs as you then reached for his belt, starting to unbuckle it, never breaking eye contact as you opened his pants.

As you moved to pull the clothing down his hips, he gripped your wrists. “No, darling. If you want to suck it, you can. But I’m in control. Understood?” He asked, dropping your wrists to instead fish himself out of his underwear, hard and leaking a drop of precum.

Swallowing softly, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his cock, a low chuckle leaving the man when he noticed. Reaching out, he placed his left hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer while his right hand gripped the base of his shaft, angling it towards your lips.

Without complaint, you parted your lips and took him into your mouth, immediately starting to suck.

Feeling that, John let his head fall back as he groaned, slightly rocking his hips. “Fucking hell-“ He hissed and you smirked around him, making the brunet snap his head down to you. “Don’t get cocky.” He warned and you innocently looked up at him, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, taking him a little deeper into your mouth.

Groaning, his brown furrowed in irritation as he clenched his jaw, his hand tightening in your hair as he then pulled your head down, making you take him even deeper.

Getting the reaction you were hoping for, you moaned around him, sucking as you bob your head, John helping you by beginning to move your head up and down, clicking his tongue to try and stay quiet when he felt your tongue swirling around him.

“God, keep that up.” He grunted, starting to lightly buck his hips up into your mouth while he pulled your head up and down.

Closing your eyes, you just relaxed your throat, letting John begin to fuck your mouth as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, his hips beginning to speed up.

Almost as if a switch flipped, John groaned as he began to lose himself, leaning forward over you as he thrusted into your mouth, moving deeper and deeper until you gagged, spit gathering at your lips as he continued to move, pleasure curling through him.

Reaching out, you placed your hands on his thighs, doing your best to stay put, tears in your eyes as he became more and more vocal, pushing past your gag reflex.

His hips eagerly pumped into your throat, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you drooled around him, both of his hands cradling your head, pulling you down onto his cock in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-“ John choked out, abruptly pulling out of your mouth, making you gasp for breath while he panted, his left hand holding the base of his cock, almost as if he was stopping himself from climaxing.

“J-John-“ You whispered but his right hand moved from holding onto your hair, down to your chin.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered through his pants.

Wiping the spit away from your mouth, you nodded and slowly got up, climbing onto the bed while still trying to catch your breath.

Grunting softly, John shifted onto the bed again, spreading your legs as he then spit onto his fingers, reaching down to rub through your folds, only to find you absolutely dripping.

“God, you love me being rough, don’t you?” John huffed, spreading your slick onto his fingers as he then pushed two fingers into you, making you whine.

“Y-Yes.” You mumbled, blushing. Though he always held an air of dominance in the bedroom, John never truly lost himself, always being just a little too careful for your liking whenever he went onto the rougher side.

Pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, John growled softly, his eyes dark and intense. “You want me to fuck you then? Blow off steam?”

“Properly, yeah.” You whispered, taking in a sharp inhale when he scissored his fingers in response, a slight burn appearing as he stretched you out just a little too fast, needing to be inside you but wanting to prepare you at least a bit. “Leave it.” You gasped, John tilting his head, still scissoring his fingers.

“It’ll hurt, darling.” He growled softly, leaning down to bite at the sweet spot on your neck he knew by heart.

“I want it to.” You mumbled, grabbing his hips and pulling him down, making John huff.

“So you’re working against my command now too? Not even letting me prepare you.” He grunted, still moving along with you as he rubbed his cockhead through your folds, spreading your arousal on it as he clenched his jaw. At his words, you nodded as you bit your lip and the brunet growled. “Very well.”

With that, he pushed into you, not waiting or letting you adjust like normal as he instead shoved in to the hilt, groaning as he felt your heat envelop all of him, his eyes closing as he paused.

Opening his eyes, he then looked at you. “You asked for it.” He spoke lowly, the gravel in his voice twice as prominent as he began to move, his hands shooting down to your hips to hold you down; no easing into it as he began to rapidly pump into you.

Gasping at the burning stretch, you threw your head back, whimpering out a moan as your husband began to fuck you, his hips slapping into yours as he took you with short and quick thrusts.

“My team disobeys me, my superiors sabotage my mission, and now my own wife won’t even let me take care of her properly.” John hissed, a fire burning in his eyes as his thrusts intensified, strokes long and deep.

Your walls clenched around him as you moaned, a flush to your face from the anger and irritation radiating from him as he pounded into you, keeping you pinned down to the bed as you tried to buck away from him and into him at the same time.

“Stay still.” He growled, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room as he kept you down on the bed, his tip pushing into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Fuck-“ You gasped, making John groan as he moved, his eyes half-lidded as he could feel every ridge of your cunt, wrapped so tightly around his shaft, rubbing into him as he pushed in and out of you.

“That’s right, take it.” He hissed, his left hand moving up to squeeze your breast while the fingers on his right dug into the side of your ass. “Just like that.” He praised, his voice still rough as he leaned his face back into the crook of your neck.

“John-“ You gasped, only for him to sink his teeth into your skin. “Shut it.” He grunted, bucking his hips into yours in a frantic pace, his cock hitting deeper because of the new angle, rutting into your cervix and making you cry out.

Feeling the entrance of your womb, a loud groan escaped the brunet, his tip bashing into it repeatedly, sending waves of pleasure and slight pain through you, making you moan out more.

“Fuck, you feel good.” The man grunted directly into your ear, making you whimper.

Huffing, he couldn’t take it anymore, pulling back from your neck to tear his shirt from his body, throwing it off the bed and allowing you to see the hair dotting his torso, leaning down into the v-line and happy trail connected to his cock currently thrusting deep inside you.

Groaning, John pushed his pants and underwear down his thighs, not willing to stop fucking you just to take it off, simply accepting it as he felt relief washing over his sweaty body, no longer completely cooking in his clothes.

Seeing his chest bare before you, you whined and reached out, running your hands down his pecs, feeling the coarse hair on his chest, hiding the scarred, warm, soft skin underneath. As you trailed further down, your lip between your teeth, John suddenly grabbed your wrists, swiftly pushing them down above your head.

“Did I say you could?” He growled, punctuating his words with a hard thrust, making you moan out. “Stay put.” He huffed, holding your wrists down with one hand while his other moved to your waist, holding you down while he slammed his mouth to yours, his chest pushed into you.

Whimpering into the rough kiss, your eyes rolled back as heat grew in your abdomen, feeling him fuck into you, your toes curling as he bottomed out with every thrust.

Pounding roughly, John was huffing against your lips with every thrust now, sweat gathering on his brow and running down his back, causing a sheen on his skin mirrored on your own, the exertion and pleasure coming to a head.

“John, please-“ You moaned, your legs weak and trembling, feeling your head start to go light as the heat spread, your walls clenching slightly around his shaft.

“I know, shit-“ John groaned, rutting into you with fervour as his cock began to twitch, feeling you clench around him.

Whining out a moan, you clenched your eyes shut as you arched your back, John moving his lips from your lips down the center of your throat, his teeth nipping and biting as he groaned out a moan of his own, trying to stave off his orgasm as he slowed down his thrusts, getting rougher.

“Fuck, please!” You cried out for him, only for his thumb to descend onto your clit, making you moan loudly as your back fully arched, your cunt tightly clenching down on him.

Feeling that, John moaned, his cock twitching while you came around him, your walls spasming and squeezing tightly, making him groan out low and desperate, his hips bucking as he continued to rub your clit, stretching out your orgasm.

“Good girl, good girl-“ He panted like a mantra, his hips bucking quick and sharp into you, your pussy so greedily taking him in, your arousal coating his entire shaft and leaking down your thighs.

Whimpering out as you came down from your high, John thrusted just a few more time before moaning low in his throat, shoving deep into you, filling you up completely before he released himself inside your walls.

His cum, thick and plentiful, spurted into you, making you whine out at the feeling of it splashing against your walls, your entire body flushed as you panted, exhausted and spent, your throat and voice raw.

“Bloody hell.” John panted, staying inside you as he lowered himself onto you, his arms on either side of your face holding him up while he tried to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” He mumbled after a moment, pressing kisses to the apples of your cheek.

“Never better.” You panted out, letting out a short and light chuckle before you reached an arm up and placed it onto his cheek. “Are you?”

Leaning into your palm, his eyes finally seemed to have calmed the storm, instead holding a loving look towards you. “Definitely a lot better.” He smiled.

Carefully, he rolled onto his side, taking you with him, refusing to pull out as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“I love you.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you too.” You replied, closing your eyes as you snuggled into him. “If you’re ever angry, you know where to find me.” You teased and John let out a rumbling laugh, kissing the top of your head again.

But then again, he was definitely considering on taking you up on that offer.

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #price x reader #captain price smut #john price smut #captain price x reader smut #captain price x reader #price x reader smut #not edited

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moremaybank · 7 months

Text

SPITTING + CHOKING — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, choking, degrading, praising, language/dirty talk, mentions of squirting

kinktober masterlist ;; rafe masterlist ;; buy me a coffee

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“Rafe, fuck. Harder!”

Rafe’s bicep pressed against the column of your throat as his chokehold on you tightened. His unoccupied hand gripped your hip, pulling your ass back to him, meeting his thrusts. He pounded into you unapologetically, teeth gritted as he panted harshly.

“That’s right, baby. Take this fucking cock. Always knew you liked being punished.”

“Spit on me. Make me dirty.” You turned your head, getting a partial view of him from the corner of your eye. Your brows were pulled together, your mouth gaping when you felt him hit your cervix like he was trying to burst it open. “Oh my god.”

Rafe watched your eyes roll back, and he felt your hand clawing at his forearm. Your nails pressed into his skin, almost splitting it open when his hand smacked the abundant flesh of your ass. “Yeah? Want me to dirty you? Treat you like a useless hole to fill?”

All you could manage to release is a shaky moan, broken and desperate as you nodded. But your answer wasn’t enough to suffice. Rafe wanted more. Needed you to beg for it like it was the last thing you’d ever receive. His arm moved, and his hand gripped your throat instead. He yanked at you, pulling your head upward and causing your back to arch. “Fucking say it or you’ll regret it.”

You squealed when he fucked you harder, but you still couldn’t scramble to get the words together.

“Tell me you’re just a fucking toy to use for my own pleasure before I leave you here and finish myself off.”

You whined, finding it hard to breathe. He was squeezing your throat so hard that you struggled to breathe. “Yes, yes, I’m just a toy for you. I’m your fuck doll, you can do whatever you want to me. Spit on me, give me all of it.”

Rafe’s hand abandoned your throat and he moved both of them to your hair. His fingers weaved through your locks, and he gained a strong grip on your scalp while his hips smacked against your ass. He leaned forward, pulling your head back, and he spat onto you once, and then twice more.

“Fuck, look at you, baby. Begging for my fucking spit? You really are pathetic.”

Your walls closed in around him, notifying him of how close you were to your high. He pulled out suddenly, flipping you over and slotting his cock back into your dripping hole harshly. He choked you again, using his grasp to pull you up. You couldn’t find the strength or courage to avert your eyes from him, his heated gaze holding you hostage.

“Yes, yes, I’m pathetic. Desperate for you, for your cock,” you spoke. “Use me until there’s nothing left.”

“Fuck,” Rafe spat. He threw his head back, still pounding hard into your pussy. He looked back down at you again, grasping your jaw and using his other hand to slap your face. He alternated between your cheek and your tits, leaving your skin stinging with heat. “This’s all you’re good for, yeah? Just this tight pussy.”

You clenched at his words, your hair sticking to your sweat-ridden forehead. He pushed the strands away from your forehead, before gathering all your hair into a makeshift ponytail with your hands. Almost by nature, you stuck your tongue out for him, and he spat down onto you again, coating both the muscle and your face. You lapped up everything you could and poked your tongue out for more. Rafe chuckled darkly, tugging at your hair harder.

“Gonna cum in this pretty pussy of yours,” he grunted, cock already spasming inside of you. “You’re gonna take all of it. Understand?”

“Y-Yes, Rafe.”

“Good girl. Give me what I want ‘n then I’ll let you cum.” His hands cascaded down your body, and his hands closed around your hips. He held you in place firmly, fucking you with abandon as he chased his high. He shot his cum deep inside your pussy, pushing it further and further until he was satisfied. Then, he stuffed his fingers into your mouth, shoving them back far enough and getting them nice and wet with your spit. You gagged around him, tears brimming as he finally removed them and slid them into your pussy. “You’re gonna squirt for me, soak the fucking bedsheets. Got it?”

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RAFE TAG LIST (JOIN HERE): @pankowperfection @maybankslover @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @softherveauxs @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @countryclubkook @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @belcalis9503 @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @rafesthroatbaby @maybanksbabe @slut4drudy @jjmaybanksgun

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ourautumn86 · 1 year

Text

playing dangerous

police! ellie williams x fem! dealer! reader

pt2

summary; this really cute cop wants you to talk, and she perfectly knows how to make that happen.

cw; fingering, making out, orgasm denial, teasing, oral sex (r giving), choking, praising, degradation, mention of drugs and deals, mention of weed, usage of drugs, cuffing…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

“Got you.” you groaned, her body pressing you up against the cold and harsh wall of the dark alleyway. You laughed when you felt her hands on you, registering you.

“Woah woah, get me a coffee first at least, wouldn’t you?” the officer turned you around, her auburn hair and green eyes popping under the dim lights. You smirked. “Got nothing on me, officer. Pinky promise.” you rose your pinky finger and she slapped it away, making you laugh.

If you weren’t high you would probably be scared shitless right now. You’d been caught by a police officer in the middle of a deal, and now she had you completely cornered in a goddamn hallway. You were trapped. This could get real bad.

“You’re definitely on something. Why don’t you tell me what it is, huh?” you sighed when her big and veiny hands took your face, her eyes focusing on yours to see how dilated your pupils were.

“I’m onto you, if that’s what you mean, officer.” you smirked and she huffed. Up this close you could see how long her lashes were and the little freckles decorating her cheeks. She was hot. Really hot. First cop you ever considered hot. And the weed on your system was making it much easier for you to forget that she was a cop. “Let’s get in the back of your cop car, officer.” you smiled at her, one of your hands coming up to rest on her chest. “You can ask me anything you want there.” you said, and she squinted her eyes.

“Anything?” her eyebrows perked up and you nodded.

“Anything.” you promised.

She looked away for a few seconds before sighing. Your smile only grew. The officer pulled her cuffs from her side and your eyebrows arched.

“ ‘S that for me? You gonna cuff me, officer?” you teased and she rolled her eyes.

“If you want me to go by your rules you’re gonna have to go by mine too, sweetheart.” that little and sarcastic nickname made you shiver. It sounded a little too good coming from her lips.

“Kinky.” you winked at her. “I like it.”

You handed her your hands and she cuffed you, a little more tighter than needed too, but you still liked it. You were down bad. She looked amazing on that fucking uniform.

She pulled you on the back, following right behind and closing the doors of the car with her keys once inside. It was cool, and the leather was comfortable on your back. You were too high for this. Now that you were so close you could smell her perfume. And god if you didn’t like it…

“Okay, now, tell me what you’re onto and who did you just sell it to.” she said, and you looked at her, silence filling the car.

“Why don’t you tell me your name first? Maybe I’ll tell you then.” you gave her a smile and her green eyes squinted at you. After a few seconds she huffed.

“Ellie.” she answered and your mind repeated it over and over again. It sounded just as pretty as her.

“Hmmm…” you hummed, leaning closer, your eyes on her lips as you cocked your head to the side while looking at her. “Pretty.” “My name is y/n, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever. Now. Tell me what you sell.” she ordered, and your pussy throbbed.

“Oh yeah, use more that tone.” you whispered. “I like it.” you let out a choked laughter when her hands suddenly snapped and gripped your neck.

She was extremely close to your face, her angry eyes boring into yours.

“Talk.” she spat, and you almost whimpered.

“Oh, I’ll sing if you know where to touch, Ellie.” you whispered, and she took a deep breath.

“Is that all you need? A little fuck for you to start talking?” she inquired, her free hand landing on your thigh, the warmth of her palm seeping into your jeans.

“Why don’t you find out, officer?” you smirked against her lips, and before you could blink, she was kissing you, harshly, angry, and you were loving it.

You moaned, pushing up your hips for her to have a better access to the button of your jeans when she started to fumble with it. Quickly enough the leader was sticking to your naked thighs, your jeans forgotten on the floor of the car.

“Ah, Ellie.” you moaned when she cupped your cunt over your panties, her fingers pressing against your clit and making your head fall backwards.

“Talk.” she repeated, and you bit your lip when she pulled your panties aside, you couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips when her fingers dipped into your folds, fingertips soaked on your slick. Her fingers were moving against your clit and you were seeing stars. When you didn’t answer she stopped and pulled away.

“No! Please don’t stop.” you whimpered, and she repeated her order.

“Talk.”

“Fuck…” your hips rose towards her hand when she started to tease you again, barely touching you. “Weed, shit, I’m on weed.” you muttered, and you had to bite down on a scream when he plunged one of her fingers inside of you, curling it against your g spot. “Oh, fuck!”

You moaned when she started to fuck you like that. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” she smiled, and you would have thought of a clever come back if you weren’t feeling so good. “Atta girl.” you moaned, and she scoffed, adding another finger. “Someone is needy, huh?” she muttered against your neck when you started to fuck yourself on her fingers.

“Ellie…” you whimpered, already on edge now that her thumb against your clit. You were tightening around her fingers, and your cunt was squelching with your building orgasm.

“Oh, look at you. Already so close. You gonna cum for me, hm? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” you nodded, and just as you were about to reach your peak, she pulled her fingers away, making you whimper.

“No! I was so close, please, Ellie, please.” you begged and she laughed.

“Aw, aren’t you cute…” she falsely pouted at you, her thumb on your bottom lip, getting closer.

“Tell me who you just sold it to.” she ordered, once more starting to play with your clit. You sighed and pulled at your cuffs, moaning.

“I can’t.” you muttered. And she stopped touching you.

“Fuck.” you whined, your hips pushing against her gone touch. “Okay! Okay!” your eyes were rimmed with tears, your voice all wobbly and fragile. “Eugene. I sell to Eugene.” you whimpered, moaning when she plunger her two fingers back inside your pussy, starting her relentless pace and quickly building back up your orgasm. “Fuck, yes, yes, don’t stop please. I’m gonna cum!” you cried out, that well known warmth spreading all over your lower stomach.

“That’s it. Cum for me.” she smirked, and watched you fell apart as you reached your peak, your thighs clamping on her hand and shaking, your mouth falling open in weak and spent moans as you came all over her fingers.

She fucked you through it until you were whimpering due to the overstimulation. Her fingers were sticky with your cum, which she tasted as she pushed them inside her mouth.

You were breathing heavily, still some spasms making your legs jerk when she hummed.

“Drug trafficking and intake, huh? You’re a really bad girl, maybe I should send you to jail.” she said and your eyes widened. Oh no, you couldn’t go there.

“No please, Ellie, I’ll be good. I promise.” you begged, your beautiful and teary doe eyes staring into her harsh emerald ones.

“You’ll be good?” she inquired, her eyebrows arching.

“Yes, yes, I promise.” you looked at her, and one of your hands slowly made its way up from her knee to her clothed cunt. “Let me show you.” you whispered, leaning in until only mere inches stood between the two of you. Your lips brushed hers, and when she didn’t pull away, you kissed her. She corresponded the kiss with the same intensity, your fingers quickly unbuckling the pants of her uniform and tugging them down her legs the best you would with your cuffs still on. She helped you, pulling off her panties as well. You moaned when you noticed how wet she was. Fuck. You couldn’t wait to eat her out.

She hummed against your mouth when your fingers spread the lips of her pussy apart, her slick connecting them in fragile strings. You quickly pulled away from her, and she sat facing you and leaning on the car’s door. You sat/laid on your tummy the best you could. You smirked at the way her thighs shook when your breath hit her cunt. Ellie bit down on her bottom lip when you started to slowly kiss her inner thighs, getting closer where she needed you most. Her hands laced on your hair, pulling it backwards to see much better your face when your tongue met her cunt. She moaned, and your nose nudged at her clit, you smirked against her when she threw her head backwards, her emerald and shiny eyes closing in ecstasy.

“Taste so good…” you praised, and she moaned when your tongue pushed into her, lapping at all she would give you.

“Fuck.” her grip tightened on your hair when you moved up to her clit, your plushy lips sucking on it. You middle finger pushed inside, curling up towards her g spot, making her back arch. “Don’t stop.” she whispered, and you started to eat her out like a starved woman, humming and moaning at the pulling on your hair and the sweet noises that would fall from her lips.

Your second finger went in, and that’s when she started to shake. You gripped at her right thigh the best you could while being cuffed, trying to get her to not move, wanting to make her feel good.

“Shit, y/n.” he moaned, and your pussy throbbed. ‘Cause she sounded as sweet as she tasted. Your fingers sped up, her moans rose in volume. You knew she was close by the way her walls were clamping around your fingers, the way she whispered your name over and over again, begging you to go faster, harder.

You moaned when she finally fell apart, warm and sticky cum painting your lips and filling your mouth as you lapped it all up, fucking her through it.

She hissed and pulled from your hair so you’d detach from her pussy when the overstimulation became too much for her, almost painful. Your hazed expression met her, still drunk on her taste, on her pussy…

She pulled from you to land a searing kiss on your lips, her tongue pushing into your mouth to taste herself, humming.

You two kissed for a couple of minutes before she’d pull away, her thumb pressing against your bottom lip, shining in spit.

“You’re free to go this time. But next time you won’t be that lucky.” she said, and you smiled at her.

“I’ll be waiting for it then.”

a/n; okay buy just imagine them meeting over and over again and ellie always letting reader go ‘till they finally develop a crush on each other 😭

ellie williams masterlist! <3

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