#but it wears off really quick once he starts Messing With Things | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

freelancearsonist · 2 months

Text

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.”

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this.

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in.

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

➔ beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

2K notes · View notes

beardedjoel · 4 months

Text

pretty little wife | crazy 4 u

joel miller x f!reader one shot collection

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | ✨kofi ✨

summary: valentine's day special! joel has historically made sure that valentine's day is special for his pretty little wife, but this year he's gone above and beyond. warnings: 18+ MDNI! no apocalypse au, pre-established relationship/dynamic, sub/dom relationship, soft dom! joel, free use kink, orgasm denial if you squint hard, unprotected piv, rough sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), nipple play, choking/breath play, pet names for reader, praise kink, romantic as fuck husband joel this chapter, some domestic fluff, alcohol consumption, maybe maybe maybe there is a breeding kink moment, reader has hair that can be pulled a/n: they're so in love it makes me SICK!!! thank you so much for reading and loving this couple along with me, and happy galentine's and valentine's day my loves! 💋💗💌

reminder i have no taglist anymore, follow @beardedjoel-updates to hear about my new fics!

You quietly squeal to yourself as you start to tear open the newly delivered package on your way back inside from the mailbox. You look down at the assortment of pale pastel candies, all strung up on thin strands, waiting to be devoured. Your own curiosity and lack of self control nearly has you reaching in the box to break one off for yourself, but you hold back, reminding yourself just who you bought this for and why.

Valentine’s Day is in two days, but you’d wanted to get a jump, giving Joel a more playful vibe today considering you know he’ll have gotten you something sexy and downright depraved to wear on the actual holiday. Your skin tingles at the thought, recalling all of the things he’d had you wear in the past. Your most memorable being crotchless panties under a skin tight dress at dinner one Valentine’s Day, so he could finger fuck you under the table at one of Austin’s finest restaurants. Keeping your face straight during that had been painstaking, but you’d loved every minute of the debauched public display. When you’d asked Joel why he hadn’t just had you go sans underwear that night, he’d smiled devilishly. ‘Adds to the forbidden factor, don’t y’think?,’ Joel had replied, ‘So premeditated I had to get my baby somethin’ to weep onto while I knew I’d be shoving my fingers so deep in her pretty pussy.’ Those naughty words from Joel still send a shudder up your spine to this day as they ring in your mind. He hadn’t even waited until you two were home that evening to use that same hole in the panties to fuck you dizzy, until you’d screamed in the back seat of his car for him. Even then, he hadn’t relented until you came too many times to even remember the count now, leaving his seats a soaking mess.

You sigh, bringing yourself back to the present, brushing the memories away for now to get yourself ready to make some new ones with your husband. Once you’ve changed, you take a quick moment to admire the scant pieces of lingerie, almost laughing at the absurdity, but wondering how in all these years you’d never thought to buy candy underwear for Joel to devour off of you. You preen yourself for a few more quick moments before heading downstairs, wanting to set yourself up to act casual for Joel when he arrives home. Sometimes you do this on purpose, knowing he gets off on interrupting what you’re doing just so he can take you, fuck you however he pleases. And even when you really are in the middle of something, you get off on it too - being of service to your husband, helping him feel good while knowing you’ll be well taken care of, too.

On the dot at 5:00, you hear Joel’s car pulling up and smile smugly to yourself, continuing to wipe the counters down. A prompt pop of your hips to push your ass out follows when you hear the front door open and close.

“Doll? Where are ya?” Joel calls out, voice slightly muffled as he bends down to put his shoes away.

“In here!” you call out, voice high and sugary sweet, imitating the lingerie plastered to your body right now.

“How’s my pr-” Joel starts, freezing the moment he enters the kitchen. He takes in the sight - you slightly bent over, only a tiny string between your bare ass cheeks, pink high heels, and straps of candy running over your shoulders and across your back. You whip your head over your shoulder, rotating your body just enough to give Joel a peek at the lines of candy also covering your tits. He laughs, head thrown back in playful amusement before stepping towards you, predatory and slow, his laugh fading into a contemplative smirk.

“What do we got here?” Joel says quietly, hands immediately pressed tightly to your hips, his body pushing you forward into the counter. You whimper when the edge of the counter starts to dig into your stomach, Joel’s massive form locking you into your spot. “A little snack f’me to enjoy after workin’ so hard all day?” Joel can barely contain himself, blood running hot as he contemplates how grateful he feels right now.

“Mmhmm…” you whine out, already feeling any semblance of tension leaving your body at Joel’s gentle but calloused touch, this feeling of home. You giggle when Joel leans down to where the straps come around over your shoulders and takes a bite out of the candies, a little groan leaving him as his lips also catch on your skin, mixing the taste of you with the sweetness of the candy.

“Delicious, baby,” he hums in your ear, then goes on to kiss your earlobe. You melt, head falling back slightly with a docile smile plastered on your lips. “How’d a man get so lucky?” He takes another bite, kissing along your shoulder as he does so.

“Thought we’d get a jump on Valentine’s Day, darling,” you coo back, turning your head to kiss his cheek.

Joel freezes, his eyes going wide and body rigid. “Fu-” he murmurs to himself, lips still practically attached to your shoulder.

“What?”

He tears himself off of you with the most disgruntled groan you may have heard from him yet. “Baby, we gotta get movin’. You… fuckin’ little candy underwear, god damn it…” he starts muttering, grabbing you tightly and spinning you around. He grasps your hand in his and starts leading you upstairs. “You gotta change, honey, we’re…” he trails off, looking guilty and a bit flustered.

“Joel, what the hell is going on?” you ask, stopping and pulling back on his hand.

Joel sighs, calming himself for a moment before finally meeting your eyeline again. His gaze softens and he smiles. “Had a whole thing planned, darlin’. A surprise. C’mon and see for yourself.”

You trail after him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in your candy underwear given the change in mood. He takes you into the bedroom, opening his closet and yanking out your suitcase. Your brows furrow as you watch him pull it to the center of the bedroom, then going back for another suitcase of his own. Your mouth drops open slightly before curling into a smile, realizing that Joel had planned a trip for the two of you. He’d mentioned to keep your schedule free around Valentine’s Day, but you’d figured it was just typical plans - dinner, a picnic, or a fancy hotel room, nothing this big.

“Joel… baby…” you breathe out, clutching a hand to your chest. You feel suddenly filled with warmth, like sunshine has started filling you from the belly outwards, making your entire being feel light and tingly. Effervescence. That’s what being with Joel is like.

He gives you a lopsided smile. “We’re leavin’ tonight. Planned it all, flight is at eight so we can wake up there ‘n get a jump on everythin’. An’ then you had to wear that,” he huffs, gesturing to your entire body with a wild movement of his hand. “An’ scramble my brain right up.” His eyes linger along your entire midsection, sincerely considering throwing these plans away just to sate his hard cock, but he shakes his head and looks you in the eyes again.

“A jump on…. what’s everything?” you ask, placing an impatient hand on your hip.

Joel reaches into the built-in shelves in his closet, pulling out a soft, cashmere lounge set and walking it over to you. “Jus’ get dressed an’ I’ll explain as we go. God damn it, this was s’posed to be so much more romantic.” He sighs, a hand repeatedly running through his hair during your entire conversation, looking flustered.

“Aw, honey, it is, promise,” you assure him with a kind laugh, starting to peel off the candy underwear, bringing it over to your dresser to deposit it for another time.

“Mm-mm,” Joel chants with a smirk, squatting down to unzip your suitcase and holding out his palm to you. “Those are comin’ with us.”

You’re over 31,000 feet in the air now, the sky dark outside the plane windows as you peer out. Joel had planned an entire long weekend to head to Aspen, where he’d booked you both skiing lessons and a cozy, romantic room at a lodge there. Your heart swelled as he explained it all on the ride to the airport, remembering how it was on your bucket list to learn to ski, but being from Texas there hadn’t been too many chances to learn locally.

You stretch your legs out, admiring the leg room in the first class tickets Joel had gotten you two, bringing the complimentary glass of champagne to your lips.

“Baby, this is too much,” you say with a slight frown, despite feeling overjoyed at everything about your current situation.

“Never. I’ve been plannin’ and savin’ for this for a while. Wanted to surprise you big time,” Joel says with a toothy, proud grin.

“Well, you did. Makes my candy underwear feel kind of… well, wimpy in comparison.”

Joel’s pointer finger flies to your lips, pressing down before your glass can reach your mouth again. “Not a chance, little doll. That’s all I need from you - skimpy little outfit to keep your husband happy.”

Your lips curl into a sly smirk and you part your lips, nipping the end of Joel’s fingers. He shoots a brow up, challenging you, but you back down. You and Joel don’t always have the most public decency, but you decide it’s not worth getting kicked off the plane just for an orgasm you could wait a few more hours for. You nearly roll your eyes at the thought though, your cunt aching from the unresolved moment you two had shared in the kitchen earlier. You can tell by his wide pupils and rosy cheeks that Joel must be feeling a lot of the same way and having the same conflictions.

“If we wait a few hours… it’ll be even better…” you lean over and whisper to him, voice betraying you as it escapes in a breathy, sultry tone.

“Plane never stopped us before…” Joel says, brows raised again.

You tut, but then smile at the memory of your one sexual adventure on a plane with Joel, when you two were on your way to your honeymoon. A discreet handjob and fingering in first class under blankets hadn’t been the most romantic start to your married life together, but it suited the both of you. “Aaand…” you trail off, placing your palm on his chest. “We almost got caught like five times, big guy. Promised ourselves we wouldn’t do that again.”

Joel grumbles quickly, and you know he understands, but you feel an anxious twinge in your stomach, like you’re breaking the rules. Your face falls a little and you turn towards him, more serious this time. “I know we have… an arrangement, and you know I love our arrangement.” Joel gets what he wants, whenever he wants - the words agreed upon by the both of you within your marriage, and you were all for it. “But just this time I think we shouldn’t break the law for it.” You raise your brows, stomach turning again as you wait for his reaction - Joel is always understanding and patient with you but as usual, you find yourself desperate to please him.

Joel bites the inside of his cheek, then he leans over to plant a peck on your cheek while he reaches down to squeeze your hand in reassurance. “No, baby, you’re right. Probably should be an exception ‘bout planes in there, huh?” He tilts his head playfully and you feel your tension dissipate immediately. “Always the rational one, ain’t you, honey.”

“Barely,” you tease, chuckling in relief. “I just don’t want to ruin the trip before it’s even started. Let’s just watch a movie or something?”

Several hours of keeping yourselves occupied and dozing off had you finally arriving in Aspen, where Joel gently nudged you awake as the plane landed. You rubbed your bleary eyes and made your way through the plane and airport half-awake, just letting Joel guide you with one of your hands gently grasping at his sleeve the entire time. You two get outside the airport with your suitcases, now bundled up in an adorable puffer jacket Joel had packed for you, along with a new pair of fuzzy earmuffs. You were starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was a lot of new clothing in your suitcase.

Standing next to an impeccably shiny black car is a well dressed driver holding a tiny sign that makes you do a double take.

Mr. & Mrs. Joel Miller.

You tug on Joel’s sleeve with eager excitement as he starts towards the man and your mouth hangs open.

“Joel, you did not hire a fancy driver,” you scoff quietly in disbelief. Joel stops in his tracks, screeching the two of you to a halt before turning to face you.

“If you’re already questioning me at the airplane seats ‘n the driver, it’s gonna be a long few days, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice crackling and gruff with tiredness from the long day. Your open mouth turns to a smile while you tut and shake your head.

“You’re too much, Joel Miller…” you muse, following him to the car. The driver, Randy, takes your bags and stuffs them in the car, offering you an open car door to climb inside. Your stomach flips with butterflies, not having realized just how romantic of a weekend Joel had planned for you. You fight off a quick mist of tears as it pops up, trying not to get emotional at just how overwhelmingly thoughtful your husband could be sometimes.

When Joel sits next to you, you clasp onto his hand tightly, giving him a watery smile that he returns with a sympathetic one of his own, reading that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Sure, since Joel had become more and more successful in his business you’d been treated beyond your wildest dreams, but sometimes it all hit you hard in one big moment like right now, filling you with gut clenching gratitude for your life. Life with Joel oftentimes feels like a dream, something you’ve stumbled into somehow that you aren’t sure you deserve. Joel would never let those thoughts slide, always reminding you how lucky he feels to have met you in that bar, that fate intervened so spectacularly in his life.

You lean your head on his shoulder for the duration of the ride to your accommodation, feeling sick with nostalgia and gratitude as you get lost in your thoughts. When the lodge comes into view, you pick your head up, mind suddenly empty as your jaw drops while you take it in.

It’s dark out, the sky black against the warm, glowing lights peeking through window panes throughout the lodge. A mountainous backdrop is still visible despite the dark night, and you can’t help but ogle at everything, imagining how stunning it will look in the daylight. The lodge is huge, ornate despite the fact that it’s meant to look simplistic and cozy with its wood siding. Joel marvels quickly at the construction out of habit, being in the business he’s in gives him a certain preclusion to commenting his two cents on every place you stay. You’re stunned silent as the back door is opened by Randy and you step out underneath a large overhang, greeted by yet another person who offers to take your bags. It’s all fuzzy, your brain tired and overwhelmed by what you’re taking in right now, the fact that just hours ago you’d been at home, content to just stay in with your husband tonight. You blink back to reality, about to speak when Joel gets to it first.

“Please. Thank you kindly,” Joel drawls, quickly slipping them a bill from his wallet and then turning back to you, offering you his arm. You take it, practically ready to squeal loudly with excitement as you two enter the building. You admire the expansive lobby while Joel steps away to check in - high ceilings and wood beams, roaring fireplaces surrounded by cozy seating and tall, full but neatly arranged bookshelves. A winter dream if there ever was one.

You’re gazing around, tired, slow blinking eyes, too lost in it all to notice Joel come up next to you, his hand finding the small of your back. He leans close, lips and rough beard brushing your ear with a soft kiss.

“Room’s ready,” he practically growls, and your gut clenches at his tone, your thighs pressing together. Suddenly, your body feels alight, nerves buzzing and goosebumps peppering your flesh. Sleep is a far away notion now, recalling the way you’d begun this evening, only to have it go unfinished for the both of you. You smile, soft and docile like your husband likes, your voice a dulcet song so close to his ears.

“Lead the way.”

Your ass stings red hot from another harsh slap laid against it. Joel’s hungry mouth devouring you, your hat and coat discarded on the floor right next to the door to your room. Hair tangled from the way Joel is hanging on to it for dear life as he pounds into you. Your only view is the cream colored walls, your face pressed up against the cool, smooth surface as Joel’s body pins you there. The door had no sooner shut than Joel had thrown you here, as much clothing ripped off as he could stand before his cock was inside of you. You’d cried out, whimpered at the sudden heavenly intrusion despite your pussy needing a moment to adjust. Joel had pushed through it, anyways, delivering the first spank of the night on your ass, pants and underwear hastily pulled down, halfway down your legs - enough room for Joel to slip his cock in was good enough for now, he’d thought hastily. The pain had melded into pleasure, your cunt squeezing his cock and starting to weep, easing Joel’s firm thrusts into you.

“F-fuck…” you whine against the wall, lips hanging open as his cock hits deep, your g-spot crying out already from all the stimulation he’s giving it. He’s not going easy on you, and you’d already known he wouldn’t the second he got you alone. All those hours, the silent teasing going on in both of your heads as you’d waited for this moment.

“Takin’ my cock like such a good girl… my obedient little wife,” Joel grunts out next to your ear, his teeth scraping your earlobes, sliding to your pulse point. You shudder, your hips spasming down onto him as pleasure starts to rock your body. You’re close… so fucking close to that perfect paradise only Joel knows how to get you to. “I’d’ve fucked you right in that lobby, right in that car or that god damned plane. Want everyone to see what I do to my pretty wife, what I’ve got right here… fuckin’ mess only for me,” Joel murmurs, rambling on as he grunts over and over, giving you everything he’s got. His hands tilt your hips, holding tightly while he anchors you there. And he’s right, you are a mess. Dripping slick, coating your thighs, disheveled hair and makeup now from the pleasured tears rolling down your cheeks, wet, squelching sounds filling the hotel room that you haven’t even had a chance to see yet as your face is turned towards the corner near the doorway. It must be a sight, indeed.

“Y-yeah? Wanna s-show me off…?” you breathe out, voice trembling as much as your body is starting to. Your knees are jelly, shaking and barely able to hold you up when Joel delves deep, hitting that spongy part inside of you again, making your eyes roll back. Of course he does, you know he does - nothing brings Joel more joy than letting the world know exactly what he has.

“Fuckin’ know I do… all lookin’ at this tight little cunt takin’ my fat cock, my pretty pussy, all mine.” Joel’s body presses closer, and you’re trapped even more, the both of you damp with sweat and almost incoherent as you near your highs.

“B-baby… I’m -” you whine out, “Please…”

Joel has waited as long as he could, knowing what you need. He’d wanted you desperate for it, so close, your climax just within reach, before he took you over the edge. His hand on your hip curves forward, finding your clit, and you moan loudly at the contact on the sensitive nerves. Your body moves of its own accord, bouncing back into his thrusts wildly, barely noticing that Joel’s other hand has left your hip until it connects with your neck, hand wrapping around your throat. You gasp, the noise cut off into a small choke while Joel’s hand tightens and you croak out a moan.

“Oh my g-god… please…” you whimper again in a strained voice, hoping, no, begging for permission from him. He plays with you a little longer, feeling his cock harden beyond what he’d think possible, aching even inside of you for more, as he toys with you, making you wait. His hand squeezes your neck once more, a little harder, keeping the pressure on. You’re feral, your body screaming at you but you concentrate, holding back, your mind doing gymnastics to try to deny what your body wants so badly.

“Come.” Joel speaks the one word with finality, and you let go, your body shaking violently. His hand releases and you breathe in a full, round breath as you come, your pussy creaming so hard on his cock that you start to feel dizzy from it all.

“God damn, good girl… comin’ so pretty right now,” he whispers to your ear, the noise tickling your mind in the best way. Joel holds you up as you moan and whimper, his name falling off your lips in the way it always does in moments like these - worshiping him. You flutter and squeeze his cock like heaven incarnate, and Joel finds he can’t hold himself back any longer, spilling into you on the tail end of your own climax with a loud grunt, pretty praises for you off his lips.

You both collapse against the wall, Joel leaning against you, and you both catch your breath, the need gone for the moment after hours of waiting. You sigh, smiling in satisfaction when Joel pulls off of you, gathering you quickly into his arms, kissing you all over your head.

“That’s better, ain’t it?” he says teasingly, and you chuckle, nodding in his grasp. You both readjust yourselves, Joel helping you situate the clothing he’d haphazardly pulled aside in his frenzy earlier.

“Much,” you say with another sigh, leaning into him. “What time is our lesson tomorrow?”

“Not ‘till noon. Had a feeling we’d be… up late,” Joel replies wryly, and you laugh again.

“Such a planner,” you poke at him, raising your brows before tilting your head to kiss his cheek. You slip out of his hold and start to meander further into the room, jaw dropping for what feels like the hundredth time tonight while you take in the vaulted ceilings with those same warm wooden beams and white painted walls, a stone fireplace roaring in the center of the room across from the massive bed, adorned with rose petals. More roses sit atop the small breakfast table in a vase near the windows, and when you venture over there, the view you’re taking in is beyond stunning - the mountains in full view, moonlight shining over the entirety of the landscape and your eyes start to tear up. Champagne in an ice bucket, boxes of chocolate, fresh fruit, the entire works are all laid out - such a lavish, gorgeous display for the traditional romantic in you. You turn around finally, meeting Joel’s gaze, where he stands, a smitten look on his face as he watches you take it all in.

“Joel… What can I even say?” you gasp out, throwing your hands up before letting them hang back at your sides, defeated in the best way. “Thank you…” you say meekly, turning to peer out the window once more before walking towards him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Thanked me plenty back there. An’ every day when you just be my good little wife, that’s thanks enough, doll,” Joel replies soothingly, stroking the back of your head. You lean your head against his chest, content to just listen to his heart beat for a few seconds, take in the memories of this moment. You lean back, tilting your head to give him a warm, grateful smile.

“Take me to bed?”

The next morning is far from the slow, romantic morning Joel had desired for you, realizing the both of you had forgotten to set any alarms and slept in well past 10:00 after your late night. It was barely giving the two of you time to get ready - a rushed shower and breakfast before hurrying to your skiing lesson. He’d dreamed about this hotel that he’d booked for months, the thought of waking you up with his mouth pressed deep into your cunt on that California King as he’d planned would have to be a distant fantasy as you two got on with your day.

Joel couldn’t help but stare at you the entire lesson, the way your face is lit up with pure joy in your ski gear as you fumbled to get the hang of things along with him. He’d gotten you ski pants, a jacket, gloves, and goggles - all the works that he knew was ridiculous for your first time on the mountain for that price tag. But he also knew you’d look just like this - adorable in your matching winter set, colorful goggles perched on top of your beanie and perfect lips curled into a never ending grin - and it made it all worth it.

Joel finds his own smile recounting the day as he keeps a steady hand on your back, the open back, low cut slinky dress he’d packed for you to wear to dinner tonight leaving plenty of skin for his hands to roam over as you two walk back to your room, full and contented. A candlelit dinner in the lodge’s shockingly expensive restaurant and a few drinks had you both feeling good as new again after your long day of skiing and mostly falling.

You two had laughed for hours as you’d fallen on your asses more times than anyone could count. Once you got the hang of it enough to get on the smaller slopes, you’d been unable to stop giggling the entire time, you and Joel catching up at the bottom just to ride the lift up again and again. You two flirted shamelessly the entire day like two teenagers, your heart swelling with so much love for your husband like it was your first date all over again. It was nice to have this uninterrupted time to just talk, get each other caught up on the other’s recent thoughts, feelings, and days that got lost amid the hustle of daily life.

Joel’s lips connect with the back of your neck as soon as the door to your room at the lodge is shut. “Like t’see those candy underwear again,” he mumbles to your skin, and you giggle a little too loudly, stumbling forward a bit.

Your brows wiggle as you try to crane your neck to look back at him. “That so, Mr. Miller?”

“Christ, y’only call me that when you’ve been drinkin’,” Joel teases, snaking his arms around to your front, holding you against him, the bulge in his dress pants becoming more obvious by the second as it hardens, pressing into you. “Can’t decide if it’s cute or jus’ makes me feel old.”

“No I don’t, Mr. Miller. And it is cute,” you demand, trying to hide the tiniest bit of a slur in your voice. Joel wasn’t wrong, you had been known to use that particular nickname for him after a few drinks, but you tended to be a bit of a bratty, indignant drunk.

“Thas right, ‘cause everythin’ you do is cute, m’little wife.” Joel says with a smile in his voice. His lips connect with your neck once again, trailing a few kisses down your spine. “An’ sexy…” he adds in a lower tone, one hand sliding to your hip, then your ass, squeezing hard before giving it a playful smack.

“Keep talkin’ if you want those candy panties to see the light of day again,” you reply, leaning back into him, your weight immediately welcomed by his warm, solid body.

“Oh, sweet girl, always gettin’ so bold with that wine, aren’t ya?” Joel’s hold tightens, one hand splayed across your torso and the other gripping your ass hard enough to bruise. “You forgotten who’s in charge here? Hm, baby?”

“A-actually, it was champagne…” you strain out, starting to pant as Joel’s hold goes even tighter, his domination quickly getting your thighs sticky, and you lament the fact you don’t have any underwear on right now. All at Joel’s request, of course, that you forgo any underwear at dinner tonight. You just whimper out a quiet moan, knowing you’ve gotten Joel riled up enough to keep going on his own volition.

“Think I don’t call the shots suddenly, huh? My sweet, sweet wife, we both know,” he pauses, mouth moving right next to your ear. A small nibble, his breath warm and tickling you in the best way right on sensitive skin sends a shudder through you. “That if I say put those fuckin’ candy panties on right this god damn minute, you’re gonna do it, yeah?”

Joel’s teeth suddenly sink into your neck a little, a tiny bite followed by a suck, and you nod desperately, silently cursing yourself for giving in so quickly, not giving yourself a little more time to play with him, let that tiny bratty part of you out of her cage for one of her rare appearances.

“Ain’t that right?” Joel repeats, giving your hair a little tug.

“Y-yes, Joel, yes baby…” you breathe out, and he releases your hair, his hold loosening on your body before he gives a loving pat to your ass.

“Good girl,” he coos, satisfied, sending another wave of heat to the apex of your thighs to hear his praise. A tiny moan slips out at the two words, still so effective after all these years. Joel chuckles, a tiny little huff off his lips as he spins you to face him. His hand cups your pussy through your dress, pushing the silky material between your legs before he tuts.

“Soakin’ yourself jus’ from gettin’ called a good girl…” he murmurs, lips getting dangerously close to yours. “Good. Girl.” he says with a smirk against your lips before kissing you. It’s long and deep, reminding you that behind the play and facade is an infinite amount of care for you - his wife, his forever.

He tears himself away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Now, go on and change f’me.”

You nod against him, then step back when he releases you from his hold. Breathless, on shaky legs, you rummage through your suitcase to pull out the candy set, smiling when you hold up the pastel treats, strung up on what might be the world’s flimsiest string. One minute in Joel’s rough, domineering hands and these would be toast, you think, almost laughing to yourself.

You see Joel go towards the fireplace, sinking himself down in one of the plush chairs there and crossing his ankle over his knee, settling back as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his crisp white dress shirt, watching you expectantly. You scurry off under his hot gaze, using the bathroom to change out of his eyesight before reemerging in his requested lingerie. You fight a giggle, wine still coursing through you while being reminded of the pure ridiculousness of this little stunt of yours.

Joel eats with his eyes first and foremost, sweeping them up your body as he finishes getting comfortable, unbuttoning and rolling up his sleeves. You stand in front of him, thankful for the warmth of the fireplace right next to the two of you in your skimpy ensemble, and take him in right back. Broad, muscled, just starting to show his age with more grays every time you blink, and you love it. Love every inch of Joel.

“On the ground,” Joel says coolly, and you smirk, trying to hide it into a submissive, coy smile. Your knees go first, the plush rug under them a welcome relief, pure fluffy luxury in a weekend full of it. You start to lay prone, chest heaving with anticipation, mind spinning and reeling, wondering what torturous loving Joel has in store, how much he’ll milk it all out just for your tiny bit of bratiness earlier.

“Jus’ like that, thas’ right.” He leans forward and smiles, a little devilish and boyish in one, and you think you fall in love again as you watch him moving, looming over you now. He quickly palms the outside of his slacks, just the quickest relief before sliding his hand away, starting to circle you.

“Where to start…” Joel trills, and your body heats up even more while his eyes dig into you. When he’s standing at your feet, he starts to come down, leaning his entire body over you. “Can you be a good little doll and lay still while I have my treat?”

Breathless, you nod. Your eyes roll back a little when you blink hard, trying to catch your breath. Joel’s lifted brow and stare prompt you without him even having to say it - use your words, darlin’.

“Yes,” you say more confidently, and Joel smiles sweetly down at you.

“Good.”

He starts slow, lips moving languidly across your belly, up to where the candy rests on your tits, lapping at the sweetness there for a few licks.

“Mmm…” Joel mumbles. He’s back on you the next second, sucking the candies right on top of your nipples. The friction of the hard candies combined with the tiny licks of his tongue coming through to the hardened buds has your back arching, hips searching for him. You squirm, panting now when he bites through the candy, grazing your nipple with his teeth. Joel’s hands come down, ever so gently guiding your hips back down to the plush rug underneath you.

“What’d I say about bein’ still?” Joel teases, holding you there now before going back to bite again, crunching the candies before using his sugary tongue to tease your nipple with a few flicks as it pokes through the hole he’s just made. You start to moan, already a lost cause for your husband, the thought of trying to keep your body still already torturous.

“I c-can’t help it… I’m sorry, sir,” you pant out when your hips lift again, his mouth working harder and harder on your nipples. He grunts disapprovingly and continues on until both of your nipples are free, surrounded by the rest of the candy bra. Joel seems like a man possessed, lost in it all while he devours the candies, sucking and licking each new patch of skin, a sticky, sweet mess all over your skin.

You’re aching, body tense and in hot, hot need of him now as he teases you over and over. Your thighs clamp tight, trying to avoid bucking them up into where his hard, clothed cock hovers teasingly right above you. His hand grips tightly to your hip, the string of candy taut between his fingers. He’s eaten enough of the bra that it’s starting to droop, fall off of you completely, and Joel tears it aside, scattering the rest of the candies along the floor with a tinkling sound that pulls you out of the moment for a beat as you turn your head to watch the treats roll away.

“Good girl, bein’ so good f’me… such a sweet little thing…” Joel says, lifting his head off of your chest, giving you ferocious, unhinged eyes and candy tinted lips, puffy and overused.

“J-joel… please…” you whine out, the way he’s looking at you pulsing right to your already soaking cunt. His hand slips underneath the panties while he keeps his eyes on yours, watching them roll back completely as he fingers your clit. Your hips buck, finally, unable to stop it and you feel your lip quiver as a shaky moan releases from them. Joel leans forward, his lips finding yours and kissing you zealously, a glace mix of him and the sweets has your head spinning as you lap the taste off of his lips and tongue eagerly.

“So sweet…” you mumble into his mouth, going back for more and more, until you’re feeling just as sticky and sweaty as he is, the slow burn starting to gnaw at you, your core dripping while Joel rubs the softest circles over your bundle of nerves.

“You’re perfect, y’know,” Joel breathes out, lifting his lips off of yours just the tiniest bit. “My perfect girl…” You moan when his finger suddenly sinks inside of you, too caught up in the moment to even notice when he’d delicately slipped it from your clit to your clenching hole. You suck him in greedily, desperate for anything he’ll give you and whimper.

Joel contorts himself, sliding down your body, keeping his finger moving at a languid, steady pace as his mouth now meets the candy panties, nibbling along the top of it. You’re losing control, unable to take the teasing anymore, the slowness of everything, your rough and ready husband nowhere to be found right now.

Your moans become breathier, urgent and panting out of you more quickly than you can handle, your mind going a little fuzzy and light as the feeling of Joel completely takes over you.

“There we go… jus’ float on away baby, let me take you there…” Joel coos from your hip where his lips graze against your skin as another few pieces of candy come off. You give him an affirmative noise, barely registered even by your own mind as your eyes slip closed, your body warm and tingling, so desperately close to the edge. Joel’s finger hooks upwards inside of you and you gasp loudly, your body wracked with spasms as you start to come onto his thick finger. Joel lets you freely writhe and shake now, not bothering to have you lay still while he fucks his finger against your g-spot relentlessly while you ride out the waves of pleasure. You’re whimpering, a complete mess, chest, face, cunt, all feeling sticky and completely used by the man you love.

Your head lolls along the rug a bit before you blindly reach your hand for Joel, grasping his shoulder with your eyes still lazing shut. “F-fuck me, please… please,” you whimper, lightly clawing at his dress shirt.

You hear one more crunch of the candies before Joel’s fingers hook on the sides of the delicate string and pull your panties off. You can feel him, his presence hovering above you as he sits back on his knees and you hear him unbuckling his belt, imagining in your mind the sight of his hard cock coming free, readying itself at your entrance. You can barely think about opening your leaden eyes right now, still on the heels of your climax as your chest heaves up and down. You can feel the warmth radiating off of Joel as he climbs on top of you, hands gripping your calves to lift your legs up enough for him to fit snugly between them.

You grit your teeth a little, grunting out a gratified moan when you feel Joel start to push himself in, your cunt fluttering as it accepts as much of him as he’ll give. You’re greedy tonight, you can feel it, just needing everything Joel can give you, how far away from reality he could take you tonight.

He pumps in and out, almost uncharacteristic in his tentativeness, more of his thick length going in each time, and you finally peek your eyes open slowly, hands reaching to his shoulders and pushing underneath the collar of his dress shirt, finding his warm skin. He’s moving slower than he normally would, and you find his face looking down at you with adoration, just content to watch your face twitch and contort with each unhurried drag of his cock along your silky walls.

“Lookin’ like an angel,” Joel comments, seeing your face sheening and glowing from your climax, hair splayed around your head like a halo - pure angelic beauty, a work of art that Joel could never tire of gazing upon. You smile softly, one of your hands stroking his cheek lovingly, soft moans streaming out of you while he keeps up the same pace.

“Baby…” you moan, “I s-said to fuck me, please…”

“I am, little doll…” Joel teases back with a slow push of his dick into you, and you shake your head.

“You know what I meeeeaan,” you whine desperately, fingers itching to reach down and grasp his hips, pull him into you harder. Joel’s hips twitch a little faster, starting to roll into you with more force and you sigh, head thrown back a bit more.

“What, like this?”

Uh-huh. You start to go a little breathless, legs wrapping around Joel’s waist, securing your calves tightly against him.

“You want me to use you up again, hm? That it? My poor baby, she jus’ wants this tight little hole to be so fucked out she can’t walk, doesn’t she?” Joel says, patronizingly sweet with the drawl of each word.

You nod desperately. “Please, sir, t-that’s…” you stop to moan loudly when he bucks into you harder and harder. “That’s all I want…” you finally choke out, Joel’s cock hitting you so deep you nearly feel your breath stolen right from your lungs.

“What my pretty wife wants, she gets,” Joel practically sings to you, bringing his lips down to yours for a kiss, letting his mouth sloppily work its way to your neck, starting to bite and suck while he crashes into you harder with each thrust. You can only make tiny noises, clutching him as your hands snake around his neck, holding him close to you. Joel grunts loudly between sloppy licks and sucks on your throat, his hips moving more clumsily as your walls squeeze him to the point he’s not sure how much longer he can hold back.

“God damn it baby, this little pussy wants me in there so bad, she’s so greedy,” Joel punches out right next to your ear. You shudder, hips spasming and only tightening you around him further. Joel groans loudly.

“Please…” is all you can whisper, out of breath as he hits deep inside of you with each new movement.

“Fuck, c-can’t… need to fill you up, darlin’, need you fuckin’ full of me…”

“Pleaaaase…” More urgently this time, lips dry from the way you’re sucking in oxygen in quick gasps, starting to feel your orgasm clawing at your belly, tingly and hot.

“Fuckin’ full of me… gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart. Give you my f-fuckin’ baby right now… m-make you swell up,” Joel pants, his face buried in your shoulder, biting down. You gasp, completely lost to the moment, fingers digging into his skin as you pull him in tighter, legs and feet crushed against his back. There are no two bodies here, only togetherness and sweat and breath - two people so lost in the moment and pure pleasure that they’re outside of themselves, becoming one frenzied movement to climb higher and higher to that sweet peak of relief.

“F-fuck… yes, yes, baby, yes…” you moan out. “Fill me up… d-do it…” you whine. With a stunted grunt Joel’s hips stutter forward, burying himself deep. The power, the emotion of it all as he starts to paint your walls tips you over the edge, fluttering tightly around him as you milk every bit of his seed into you, spasming and moaning as you reach another high.

“Oh my god…” you breathe out as you come hard, Joel’s ragged breath right in your ear softly moaning for you. The both of you fully collapse, Joel rolling to the side, clutching an arm around your chest. The crackling sound of the fireplace start to come back into your consciousness, the stillness and warmth of the room hitting you all over again while you lay back, feeling the stickiness of the two of you steadily leaking out of you. You’re speechless now, barely able to catch your breath, let alone process what Joel had hummed into your ear in the heat of the moment.

A baby. Did he really want that with you?

You two hadn’t discussed having children very often just yet, wanting to wait and enjoy being married, being just you two for a few years. But you felt your heart flutter a little, the thought of a little life inside of you, yours and Joel’s, a beautiful loved baby that you’d grow and nurture together. You can scarcely breathe at the thought, the love your heart swells with for this faraway notion, this unconceived child, already imprinting themselves onto your heart.

“Joel…” you murmur. His head turns towards you, and you watch light flickering around him from the shadows the fire is casting along his golden skin.

“I-” Joel stutters, seeing the look in your eyes. For once, he’s not sure he can quite read it. He knows he said something so much more tangible this time, beyond all the dirty talk the both of you love to get lost in. It was too much, surely, he’d scared you with it. “I’m sorry, honey, that was… jus’ caught in the moment, maybe…”

Your face falls a little, eyes dropping to peer past him with a sad look. “Were you?” you ask timidly, hands coming together on your belly and wringing nervously.

Joel’s eyes bore into yours, soft now, none of that feral fire that was there only minutes ago. He shakes his head slowly.

“N-no, no I wasn’t, doll,” he replies quietly. Your lips twitch a little, a small smile that you’re not able to hold back now.

“I, uh, I wasn’t either,” you tell him, and Joel’s eyes flash, lighting up a bit.

He turns completely on his side, and you do too, facing each other and scooting even closer. Joel drapes a hand over you, starting to rub lazy patterns onto your back. “So should we… uh, talk about this, then?” he asks, giving you a half, lopsided smile.

You give him a nod and a toothy grin, resting your forehead against his. “Get me those chocolates on the table over there and then we’re in business.” Joel moves without hesitation, winking at you as he pulls himself off the floor.

“Anythin’ f’you, darlin’."

You have no idea what hour it is, how long you’ve even been asleep when you feel Joel’s warm body pressing into yours, his chest now up against your back. The room is still nearly pitch black, making you take a moment to recall exactly where you are. You sigh, smiling softly at the memory of your trip thus far and you see a tiny sliver of light coming in around the blackout curtains in the room, clearly doing their job well by keeping you two asleep for god knows how long.

“Baby…” Joel whispers in your ear. You roll over slightly, your ass now rubbing into his crotch. Your eyes flutter slightly when you feel his cock, already half hard for you. Your insatiable husband, fucking you within an inch of your life for two nights in a row, and still coming back for more - a rare man of his age so voraciously consuming you over and over, never seeming to be satisfied.

“Hmm?” you murmur in reply. Joel wraps an arm across you, snuggling you closer, all warm heat against his broad, naked chest.

“Mornin’...” he mumbles back, lips pressed to your neck. “Sweet girl.”

“Morning, handsome,” you say, reaching an arm behind you to cup Joel’s cheek, running your fingers through his beard. He hums in pleasure, dipping his lips down to kiss your neck again. You shudder, digging yourself deeper under the plush comforter as you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Joel’s hands start to roam, sliding over the skimpy, half see through pink slip you’d discovered in your suitcase last night.

Joel is suddenly shifting in the bed, and you feel the sheets rustling next to you before he’s bumping your legs as he climbs over them, settling himself underneath the comforter right in between your thighs. His touch just grazes over your plush thighs, soft and gentle, how Joel tends to be first thing in the mornings before he descends into the rough, possessive man that you’re more used to.

“So soft, little doll…” Joel murmurs from between your legs, his breath hot on your inner thighs while he leans down to kiss the outside of your panties. You just mumble incoherent noises of affirmation, still half asleep. Joel makes quick work of your panties, a pair to match the slip, of course, and pulls them down your legs, discarding them in the mess of sheets.

Your hips buck, a louder moan escaping you when his mouth finds your warm center, already wet and wanting for him.

“She’s ready f’me, ain’t she… waitin’ on her mornin’ wakeup,” Joel teases before running his tongue up your slit another time, flicking it on your clit a few times. A gentle suck there has your whining ramping up, hips begging him for more more more already. You’re barely even lucid yet and Joel is on the precipice of pulling yet another earth shattering orgasm out of you.

“J-jesus… please…” you beg, already feeling the familiar warmth pooling tighter in your core, your knees wobbling as they curl up, giving you some leverage to lazily push your hips against Joel’s tongue as it moves along your pussy.

“C’mon baby, fall apart f’me, s’okay it’s so fast…” Joel pulls back to murmur to you, kissing along your inner thighs as he speaks.

Your hand snakes below the sheets, burying your fingers into his lush, gorgeous curls, letting them massage his scalp as he dives back into your cunt, licking in just the right way he knows makes you go crazy with need, that makes you come within minutes, sometimes even much less.

You moan loudly, hips spasming as your climax surprises you suddenly, the waves of pleasure hitting you while Joel lets you ride it out onto his face. Your eyes roll back and you whimper quietly as you come down, flopping onto the bed with a content little sigh, body going limp. Joel kisses his way up your stomach, chest, and finally your lips, where you taste that primal honey of yourself on his lips. You quickly fall back into a dozing, lazy state before Joel wakes you again with his lips on your neck.

“Gonna order us room service,” he whispers near your ear, and you nod, finally opening your eyes to see your husband’s rugged, handsome face hovering above yours. Sharp smirk, stress lines, wild bedhead and all - he’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile sleepily in return.

“There she is,” he teases, giving your forehead a smooch. “One mention of breakfast and she’s all bright eyed ‘n bushy tailed, huh?” You stick your tongue out teasingly, waggling your head at him.

“How about we eat, then we can go explore the town, do a little shoppin’ f’you, see the sights ‘n all that, hm?” Joel asks, and you nod tiredly but excitedly.

“Mmm, sounds good,” you agree, blinking slowly as you try to wake up, finally coming to enough to recall the conversation the two of you had last night. The dreams you’d shared, hopes you had for having a child, all the ways your lives would change but also stay quite the same. The way your love would stay the same, deepen even, with seeing the other become a parent. Weighing it all carefully but with hopeful hushed voices, wondering if this was the right time for that next step for the two of you. When you’d both tearfully agreed that you’d start really trying in a few months after some more planning and thought, your heart soared higher than the clouds, than anywhere you could even conceive in your mind, chest tight with anticipation for all of it.

This morning that same feeling persists as you look upon Joel - so steady, so assured - everything you’ve ever dreamed of right here in this one man.

“How about we get some practice in while we wait for the food…” you suggest with your raspy, sleep laden voice, raising your brows at him as you feel his cock brush against you again, clearly hard and wanting.

“Baby makin’ practice?” Joel teases, scooping you up into his arms and peppering kisses all along the side of your face. “That kinda practice, hm? Not just an excuse to get me naked again?”

You laugh, turning your head to kiss him back, relishing in the familiar plumpness of his lips, the taste of your husband, all of it like a map you’ve traced your fingers over hundreds of times now, knowing every route, twist, and turn, filled with such a deep appreciation for the landscape laid out in front of you. You smile again as you two look at each other, feeling your cheeks starting to hurt from the way you’ve been grinning practically non-stop for the last two days because of your gruff but secretly so soft husband. Your hand moves upwards to cup his cheek, sincerity written all over you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Joel.”

Joel smiles back, the same unspoken thoughts and deeply rooted loving care for you penned all over his features, entrenched in every weathered line, nook, and cranny of him.

“Happy Valentine’s, little doll.”

dividers by the amazing @/saradika-graphics <3

#fic: pretty little wife #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #x reader #the last of us fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

teapartyprincess4two · 3 months

Text

Messy- J. Webber

pairing: Waitress!reader x Mechanic!Jake

classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, messy sex, public sex, facial, cream pie, cursing

inspiration: request

summary: Jake is a regular customer at the diner you work at, eating the same meal everyday before returning back to work. One day, when you’re taking his order, you can tell he has much more sinful intentions than a quick meal.

—

The diner is slow today, it always is on Sundays. You’ve had a total of 5 customers and it’s already past noon, making the day feel endless. You’re currently messing with the fryer in the kitchen. It turned off suddenly and now it won’t turn back on. “Stupid fucking fryer,” you grumble, clicking random buttons until it finally starts heating.

Suddenly the front doorbell rings, indicating a customer has entered the lobby. “Hello! I’ll be right with you!” you call out from the kitchen, peering your head over the order window to catch a glimpse of the customers. You instantly recognize that it’s Jake, he’s a regular customer and arrives everyday at exactly 12:30pm without fail.

Jake saunters in, dirty and sweaty from a hard days work. He works at an automotive repair shop that sits right on the corner of the street, choosing your diner everyday as his preferred dining spot. The walk from his car shop isn’t long, but he always leaves early so he misses the lunch rush.

Because he’s such a frequent customer, Jake knows the diner well, so he situates himself in the booth that gives him the best view of the kitchen. When he first started eating here, he realized that this booth provided him with a cinema worthy experience because he could watch you work as he enjoyed his meal.

You emerge from the kitchen with a big smile on your face, walking around the front counter and over to Jake’s table. “Can’t get enough of this place, huh?” you joke, retrieving a small notebook and ball point pen from the depths of your apron.

“Guess so,” Jake replies with a chuckle, folding his dirty hands over the table. They’re permanently stained with car oil, calloused by countless hours of manual labor. Your eyes travel from his broad, tattooed shoulders down to his folded arms, relishing in the way his sweat glistens in the sun that trickles in through the window. His white tank top is adorned with black smudges and stains, ripped and frayed along the edges. There’s dirt under his fingernails, a detail that you’d usually find disturbing, but it adds even more grit to Jake. You love the idea of being fucked by a hard working man who isn’t afraid to get dirty.

Jake’s messy look completely juxtaposes yours. You’re wearing your diner uniform, clad in a pastel pink dress and an apron so white it reflected the sun. Your hair is curled and pinned back, a matching pink bow dangling in between your bouncy strands. Stark white sneakers sway back and forth, as you wait patiently for Jake to order. You looked so clean, too clean, and Jake wanted to roam his hands all over you and watch how messy you could really get.

“So, your usual?” you ask, knowing Jake’s order by heart. Over the course of his visits, you’ve learned that Jake is a simple man. He orders the same thing everyday and although the food was slightly above average, he claimed it was his favorite as an excuse to watch you work.

Jake loved watching as you diligently wiped down tables, your hips rocking back and forth as you worked the rag into tough, grimy spots. When you were mopping, he’d scoot closer to the edge of his seat and watch you bend over as you rung out the mop. He especially loves watching as you walked over to his booth with his meal in hand, because once you arrive to the table you bend over just enough to expose the top of your breasts.

“You know how I like it, baby,” the nickname slips out naturally, the flirtatious undertones evident in Jake’s voice. At first you would become flustered with his incessant flirting, but now that you’re used to it, you get turned on. You feel like a car engine, revved up and ready to fuck some miles into him.

“Alright, it’ll be right out,” you reply with a playful smile, shoving the notepad and pen back into your apron before making your way back to the kitchen. Your hips sway as you walk away, the string of your apron slapping against your ass with each step.

Jake’s eyes are glued to you, mentally undressing you from across the room. He’s really hungry now, but not for the food.

—

20 minutes have passed and you’re still not back with his food. Jake isn’t the type to complain, but he knows it never takes you this long. Loud beeping rings throughout the diner, followed by a loud yell from the kitchen, “Ow! Fuck!” Metal clangs on the floor shortly after, a string of cuss words coming from you.

Jake’s natural instinct is to get up and check on you, but you come out from the kitchen before he can act on it. You’re pressing a cold, wet towel on your hand, “Sorry, it’s gonna be a while. The fryer’s been acting up all day and it just turned off. I burnt myself trying to fix it, but I popped your fries in the oven instead, okay?”

Jake sees the opportunity and takes it, “No problem. I can take a look at it if you want?” He’s an extremely handy man, and he’s hoping to get handsy with you if he plays his cards right.

“At what?” you ask confused, applying pressure to your hand.

“The fryer. I can try to fix it. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he replies, using his hands to push himself out of the booth. Before you can protest, Jake begins walking to the kitchen. His dirty work boots leave a trail of footprints on the floor as you follow closely behind, trying to keep up with his long strides. He quickly finds the fryer, following the smell of gas until he locates the source.

“No, it’s okay! I’ll just put in a work order,” you reason, watching as he kneels in front of the machine. You were beginning to panic, no one other than employees were allowed in the kitchen. What if your boss suddenly showed up and found him back here? Not to mention how unsanitary it was for him to be touching everything with his soiled hands.

“Yeah? And when will they finally come fix it?”

The question has you stumped, causing you to think for a while. The maintenance men usually didn’t come until weeks after the initial work order was put in, and working without a fryer for that long sounded like actual hell. That didn’t mean you wanted a customer working while on their lunch break, “Probably a couple of weeks, but it’s okay. It’s not a big deal, really!”

Your words fall on deaf ears though because Jake is opening the fryer hatch, a whiff of cooking oil and gas hitting him straight in the face. From that smell alone he immediately knew the problem, “Yeah, see, the gas line isn’t connected. One stray spark and this whole place is blowing up.”

Jake’s used to working in much hotter temperatures, surrounded daily by the summer weather and even hotter car engines. So, although the fryer is emitting a lot of heat, it’s nothing compared to what he deals with daily. He manages to find the main gas line, turning the nob off to ensure there isn’t any other leaks. After that, he swiftly turns the machine off before unscrewing a hot, black tube. He pulls the black tube off with a grunt, causing a loud hissing noise as the last bits of gas spill out.

“How do you know it’s the gas line?” you ask curiously, blissfully unaware and nose blind to the smell. “The smell,” he replies blatantly, strong hands removing random pieces from the machine. Well they were random to you, but Jake seemed to know the purpose of each piece.

The oven dings faintly in the background, indicating that the fries are finally done baking. You would love to stay and watch his arms flex as he worked, but you didn’t want to cause another hazard, “I’ll be back, those are the fries. I don’t want them to burn.”

He hums in response, the sound being followed by another animalistic grunt. You feel your core clench at the sound, there was something about him that made you want to push him to the ground and get messy.

You force yourself to look away, finally walking over to the oven to retrieve the fries before they burn.

—

The fryer was worse than either of you anticipated, causing Jake to spend more than a ‘few minutes’ working on it. He’s lying face up on the floor to get a better view, a broken down cardboard box is sprawled out under him to serve as a cushion and as a barrier from the cold floor.

Luckily you’ve only had one other customer since then and all they ordered was a drink, so you’ve been able to watch Jake work this entire time. Your pussy is throbbing at the possibilities, your mind delving into uncharted territory as you imagine what he’d look like under you.

Jake’s hips buck upward as he adjust himself, pushing himself further into the machine each time. Your eyes fall onto his crotch every time, you can’t help but stare and salivate at the growing bulge. He knows you’re watching and it’s turning him on.

“Here, hold this piece right… there,” he instructs, voice trailing off as his fingers pinch a wire in place. You comply, scooting closer so you can properly hold the wire in place. The position is uncomfortable though, your legs struggling to remain in place as you try not to fall on Jake.

After a while your legs start to hurt, trembling from the constant strain. “I can’t reach,” you explain, attempting to shift your weight so you’re comfortable.

Jake lifts his head up, careful not to hit it against the metal above him, as he peers at you. You were awkwardly reaching over him, one hand gripping onto the edge of the fryer as the other stretched to properly hold the wire in place. He looks down at your legs, watching as they shake before he accidentally catches a glimpse of your underwear.

“Here, just…” he begins to say, forgetting his sentence as his mind fills with sinful thoughts of you. He places his tools on the ground before taking a hold of your waist, dirty fingerprints immediately soaking into the fabric of your dress. He uses his hands to carefully guide you over him, stopping once you’re situated directly above his crotch.

“Try again,” he instructs, forcing himself to think about anything other than the newfound pressure you’re applying to him. You reposition the wire with your right hand, your left hand resting on Jake’s chest for support. Once the wire is in place, he scoots forward, his hips bucking up again as he does it. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your clothed pussy, causing you to squirm from above him. You’re forced to bite back a whine, realizing that this was not the time nor the place to be getting all riled up.

Jake is extremely concentrated, choosing to ignore the growing erection in his pants. “Hand me the pliers,” he says, but it comes out more like a command. His toolbox sits next to you, the short distance being close enough for you rummage through it quickly. You subconsciously grind down on his crotch, surprised to feel the outline of his dick through the thick material of his jeans.

His hands instinctively travel to your hips again, a firm grip willing you to stop your movements. “Sorry,” you murmur, becoming drunk on the idea of Jake fucking you long and hard on the kitchen floor.

Jake lets out a small groan, the innocence in your voice seducing him even further. “Here,” you whisper, eyes locking with his for a second through your long, thick eyelashes. He takes the pliers from you, forcing himself to return to the task at hand.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You squirm from above him, wiggling so you can feel him again. Usually you wouldn’t be this bold, but your pussy is hungry and your mind is drunk. Jake chases the feeling too, wishing there was nothing to restrict him from feeling you entirely.

“Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like you want to fuck me,” he replies sternly, the heels of his boots digging into the floor as he drags himself out from under the fryer. The cardboard makes it easier for him to slide out and he’s strong enough to bring you with him, eliciting a gasp from you as you place your hands on his chest to anchor yourself.

He sits up, his left arm immediately wrapping around your waist in the process. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his crotch.

Your hands gingerly rest on his shoulders as you look at him through hooded eyes, were you really going to do this? The sexual tension is blinding you, causing you to make yet another bold remark.

“What if I do want to fuck you?”

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t complain when it gets messy,” he replies coyly, pulling you further into him. Jake’s plump lips latch onto yours, metal lip rings digging into your face. The pain only eggs you on, your hands traveling up his neck and tangling into his hair.

“So eager,” he murmurs into the kiss, scrunching your dress up around your abdomen. His hands find your ass, slapping and kneading the skin in his firm grip. Moans are slipping from you, all of them being swallowed by Jake as he hungrily kisses you back. Your hips grind onto him again, desperate for release.

You’re whimpering, trying to feel as much of him as possible through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you. “Patience, baby,” he moans, but even he’s becoming impatient.

It comes to no surprise when you scoot back onto his thigh and feverishly unzip his pants, he doesn’t protest either, instead he watches eagerly. You make swift work of his pants, Jake lifts his hips to help you tug them off. “I want you to make a mess on my face,” you whisper, hopping off of Jake’s lap so you can wiggle further down.

The suggestion makes Jake’s dick twitch, precum spilling out from the tip and soaking into his boxers. You pull his boxers down and they pool around his ankles alongside his pants. His dick stands up straight, and it’s so big you begin to wonder if this was a good idea. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?

Jake knows exactly what you’re thinking, smirking at the sight of you gawking over the size of his cock. You’re brave though, so you crawl closer to him and slowly begin pumping his shaft. His head is immediately thrown back in pleasure, your touch alone almost being enough for him to spill his seed onto your hand.

You wrap your lips around the tip, your head inching down to the base slowly. If you go any faster, you’ll surely gag around his cock and start crying. “Just like that,” he groans, swooping some of your hair out of your face with one hand as the other holds his dick in place for you. Your lips kiss his hand as you take as much of his as possible, your throat struggling to keep up with the sheer size of him.

His hips thrust into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you that flips a switch in Jake. He wants to hear that sound again and again, so he holds your head firmly and guides it up and down his cock repeatedly. Each time you reach the tip, you gasp for air before he’s pushing you back down again. Saliva is dripping down your chin and bubbling at the corners of your mouth, tricking far enough to coat Jake’s penis entirely.

“Making such a big mess, beautiful,” he grunts, pulling you away from him to get a better look at your face. Streaks of mascara run down your face, your hair is all over the place, and saliva is actively dribbling down your chin. “Come here, let me ruin you,” he instructs, pulling you back down so he can coat your face and uniform in his cum.

He pumps his cock aggressively over your face, watching with a slack jaw as you close your eyes and allow his cum to paint your face. You’re glazed in the liquid, squealing slightly at the new sensation. “Yummy,” you giggle, licking your lips to gather as much of it on your tongue as possible.

Jake isn’t done though, he’s fully prepared to go another round with you, but this time with his dick balls deep in you. Right as you’re about to continue, you hear the front doorbell ring.

“Hello?” a customer asks, peering over the counter in search of an employee. Luckily, because you’re on the floor, you’re perfectly out of view. Jake gets an idea, immediately pulling you onto his lap and pushing your panties to the side so aggressively they rip.

“Sit,” he commands, aligning his cock with your entrance. You look at him in shock and whisper shout, “there’s a customer!” He’s unrelenting, dragging the tip of his cock up your folds as a response. You bite your lip, accepting the challenge as you sit on his thick dick.

A small gasp escapes your mouth once you bottom out, the girth of his cock stretching your walls.

“Hello? Anybody there?!” The customer shouts, tiptoeing to see behind the order window and into the kitchen. They’re becoming more and more impatient by the second.

You begin bouncing on Jake’s dick, his hands leaving prints all over your dress. You’re a whimpering mess, the stretch being both pleasureful and painful.

“C’mon, princess, is anybody there?” he taunts, sucking on the skin of your neck. You pull him in closer by his neck, moaning into his ear as quietly as possible.

“I just want a coffee!” the customer pleads, still trying to find at least one employee. Jake slaps your ass, silently instructing you to respond.

“Take a seat! I’ll be right with you,” you squeak out, trying not to sound like you’re getting your brains fucked out. Jake is satisfied with your response, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you down harder on him.

“You’re making me wait for a coffee?!”

Jake’s angles you forward so he can fuck you harder, his head resting on your chest. “I’m fixing the- fuck,” you begin, but Jake hits a spot inside of you that has you clenching around him. “What are you fixing?” Jake questions, loving how flustered you are.

“I’m fixing the fryer,” you spew out, the lame excuse annoying the customer further. The euphoric feeling in your pussy is enough to wash away any anxiety you feel, your walls clenching around Jake with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, his orgasm from earlier catching up to him. “Cum in me,” you demand, so drunk off his dick that you don’t realize what you said. The idea is enticing, so enticing that Jake doesn’t second guess it either.

One last thrust has him spilling his hot seed inside of you, the warm feeling sending you over the edge shortly after.

“Just a coffee! UNBELIEVABLE.”

“I’m coming,” you yelp, as your orgasm washes over you. You’re whimpering, moaning, and panting as you convulse around Jake’s cock. The statement puts a smirk on his face, you were definitely coming.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Jake is pulling you off of him slowly. You look like a beautiful mess. White liquid drips from your hole down your thighs, your underwear is ripped, your dress is stained from Jake’s oily hands, streaks of mascara run down your cheeks, your face is coated in cum, and your hair is tangled.

“Go get him his coffee,” Jake teases, watching as you slowly realize how crazy you look right now. He slaps your ass one last time before you’re hopping off of him, adjusting your dress and smoothing your hair down haphazardly.

You grab a napkin, running it across your face as you try and clean yourself up as best as possible. It’s no use, you look a mess. Without another word, you’re stumbling out into the lobby.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

BARK BARK BARK

First Jake story

MeOWWWWW

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

764 notes · View notes

lizard-on-a-window-pane · 29 days

Text

5 times you and Miguel walked away from each other and 1 time you didn't

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x reader notes: brother'sbestfriend!Miguel, soccerplayer!Miguel, college au, slow burn, somewhat mutual pining but written from reader's perspective more exclusively, SFW - only slightly suggestive (worst thing is probably a boner), fem reader (pretty neutral though), saying soccer instead of football felt so dirty but oh well, thank you for reading!! word count: 5.9k

You’re having your first lazy day in forever. It’s the first day in recent memory that you didn’t have something to do or somewhere to be. You’re just going to hang out in your apartment and watch your favorite shows or read for fun for once or whatever else you feel like doing. Because you don’t have to go anywhere, you don’t even take a shower, opting to stay in your comfy pajamas, not bothering with any makeup or hair effort, as you lounge around.

You have the place to yourself now, but you share it with your twin brother Alex, the two of you lucky enough to go to the same university.

When you eventually hear his keys scratching at the door, you’re sprawled on the couch reading a novel you’d left half-finished for ages despite actually really enjoying it. School really had a way of making you not read. Or at least never full books.

As Alex opens the door, you’re surprised to hear him talking to someone else. You see his unexpected guest a moment later from your spot on the couch, your college apartment rather small after all. And you’re mortified. Miguel. Alex’s best friend, university soccer team superstar, ridiculously attractive Miguel.

God, why did Alex not warn you he was bringing someone over? All it took was a quick message, for fuck’s sake. And Miguel of all people? Ugh. Well, it wasn’t like you could tell him. “Hey, brother dear, I have a huge crush on your best friend, so can I please get a warning next time he’ll be around? You know, especially so I’m not looking like a total mess when he shows up?”

He’d been coming over a lot recently actually. He and Alex were both on the soccer team and happened to share a few classes too, so their schedules really lined up. Usually, it was nice to get to see him. It’s not like either of them paid that much attention to you when they were hanging out, but Miguel was nice to look at. Even now, they seemed like they were coming back from a casual soccer match or something, and he still looked amazing. His thick, dark hair was messy in the way that made you want to run your hands through it; his t-shirt hugged his unreasonably broad chest and shoulders perfectly, and his sweatpants — fuck, his sweatpants — his ass looked miraculous as he turned to put his gym bag down.

Miguel’s looking at you as he and Alex step into the living room. “It’s Saturday, Y/N, and the weather’s finally fucking nice. Why’re you reading a book? You’re such a nerd,” Alex snaps as he plops onto the couch next you, pushing your legs off to make room.

“I’m a nerd because I’m reading a book? Am I am tomboy because I’m not wearing a dress, too, or are we keeping it to one stupid superficial stereotype?”

Miguel chuckles as he sits on Alex’s other side. “Cut him some slack, Y/N, he took a soccer ball to the head today. Might be making him even more of an idiot than usual.”

You can’t help but worry; you love the idiot after all.

“You okay? Was it bad?” you’re asking as you run your hand over his head looking for bumps. “I’m fine, mom,” he mocks, pushing you away. “And you? You asshole,” he accuses Miguel playfully. “‘Took a ball to the head’?” he repeats, then turning to you adds, “It was him that kicked it!” Miguel starts laughing.

“It was the perfect setup, man. Not my fault you were distracted.” “Whatever,” Alex says as he reaches for the video game remotes. Knowing them, it was time for FIFA.

You’re eager to hide with how you look right now anyway, so you get up to head into your room. “We didn’t mean to kick you out,” Miguel starts kindly. “ You don’t have to go; you were clearly comfortable here.” “Clearly comfortable”? God that sounded bad in your head. He was “super hot”; you were “clearly comfortable.”

“Thanks, Miguel. It’s fine. I was going to —“ but you don’t finish your excuse as you trip on the remote’s charging wire as you step across, falling unceremoniously to your face right in front of them.

“Mierda!” Miguel yells.

Alex immediately asks, “You okay?,” but it’s Miguel who’s up and over you in the same instant.

“You alright?” he asks softly as his hands grab your hips to help you up.

His hands on you were the last thing you needed right now. So much for composure. “Fine. Really,” you say, your breath shaky. You’re kneeling on your living room floor; Miguel’s squatting in front of you, close; his hands haven’t left your body even though you’re no longer prone. He just watches you closely, eyes beautiful and concerned. You stare back into them, and after a couple more shaky breaths finally manage to stand up and step away, looking anywhere but at him. “‘M fine,” you repeat. You turn away hurriedly and go the few steps to your room. Once safely behind closed doors, your face scrunches and your stomach sinks at the sheer embarrassment.

It’s been days since Miguel was at your apartment, and part of you is happy for the lack of pressure but another part of you still gets a funky feeling in her gut at the idea that the last memory of you he had was of a clumsy mess. He and Alex have a game today, and pretending to convince yourself that you just felt like it today, you make yourself up more than usual for it. You’re actually pretty happy with your look as you head out to meet some friends at the match.

They win. Miguel scores. Twice. Alex’s defense is probably the main reason for their clean sheet.

So, hyped up on adrenaline and victory, they’re laughing and messing around with their teammates as a bunch of people approach the sidelines to congratulate them. Alex spots you and makes a goofy face, always so playful when he’s happy. He jogs over to you and gives you a huge hug.

“Stop, you’re so sweaty!” you squeal. He just holds you tighter and rubs his sweaty hair on you, laughing. When he finally pulls away, Miguel is standing right next to him, smiling at the two of you. “Do I get a hug too?” he teases. “I scored two more goals than he did!”

You’re not sure if he’s kidding, and you’re sure the chuckle you give in response is somewhat tense.

But, stepping toward him, you just say, “Congratulations,” and wrap your arms around his shoulders without getting too close. Damn, they were like boulders. Miguel wraps his arms around your waist and closes the distance you’d maintained, giving you a surprisingly intimate embrace. You’re struck by the feeling of him around you. He’s sweaty, too, and you can smell his musk, but instead of off-putting, you find it incredibly arousing. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing where your chest is flush with his. He’s so warm, and you just want to breathe him in and trace every ridge of his body. But the hug is already lingering too long to be normal, and you pull back a bit awkwardly. Miguel is still looking at you, a subtle smile on his face.

He seems about to say something when a high pitched squeal right next to you startles you.

“Miguel!” a very pretty girl yells at him as she approaches, unabashedly jumping onto his back. She’s in a cheer uniform. “Oh my god, you were so good!” Miguel’s so sturdy, her jumping on him didn’t throw him off physically, but his face looks a little flustered. “Uh, thanks,” he says politely, putting her down. She just giggles and grabs his arm as she compliments him again.

You feel so awkward watching this, so you just turn around and walk away. You don’t see Miguel looking after you.

You’re at the after party with a couple of your friends. The soccer team was quite popular, and the victory parties tended to be good. You’re mostly having fun, but you can’t help but keep looking over to where Miguel is. Man of the match and man with that face, he was obviously the center of attention. People were coming up to congratulate him left and right. He handled it all so graciously. It shocked you how there was no arrogance in his demeanor; he was just the easygoing life of the party.

You wanted to go talk to him too, but you’d already congratulated him and didn’t know what else you would say. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself again. You could go talk to your brother, who was right next to him, but he was busy flirting, and you didn’t want to ruin it for him.

A bunch of people are dancing in the open space between you and Miguel, and the chaos lets you sneak long looks at him without his noticing. But when your friend leans over and asks, “Who do you keep looking at?,” you realize you have to be less obvious. “No one, just curious who Alex is flirting with,” you lie, proud of how quick you were with it.

“You a jealous, protective sister type?” she laughs.

“No, just curious.” “Is he?” “What?” “Protective?”

“Um, sometimes, depends. Why?”

“Because that guy over there keeps checking you out.” She nods toward an okay-looking guy chatting with someone on the edge of the dance floor. A second later, he was indeed looking over at you. “You should go talk to him!” “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not so interested.” “Why not? He’s hot! I’m pretty sure he’s on the team too. You don’t have to marry him, Y/N, just go dance! You’ve been weirdly tense all night.”

You look over again, and your eyes meet. Before you can do anything else, he makes the decision for you, walking over to you.

“Hey.” “Um, hi.” You exchange names and pleasantries, and he asks you if you want to dance. Without thinking about it, you glance toward the person you really wish you were dancing with. To your surprise, Miguel is already looking toward you. He looks less happy than before. You look back at this guy quickly, hoping neither of them noticed.

You feel slightly bad thinking this, using this guy you weren’t super interested in, but you couldn’t help but feel it’d be nice if Miguel saw a side of you that might make him think of you differently, not just as Alex’s sister. It’s just a dance anyway, so, you accept the offer and head to the dance floor.

You fall into a rhythm with the music, with the guy. The dancing is fun; the guy is fine. Your back is to Miguel, and you can’t resist spinning to catch another glimpse, doing it seamlessly as you keep dancing. Your breath catches when your eyes meet his.

Miguel watching you from across the room is doing much more to turn you on than anything your current dance partner is doing, but you channel your new energy into your movements. It’s not a well thought out decision, though in the back of your mind you know who it’s for, but you start moving a bit more suggestively. You let your hips follow the music, let your hands come up to your hair as your body rolls rhythmically. Feeling especially bold, you even manage to meander closer to where Miguel is, giving him a better view.

Unbeknownst to you, this unfortunately also makes Alex, now unoccupied, notice you for the first time. You don’t hear him leaning over to Miguel and saying, “Gross. I hate seeing my sister with random guys. Let’s go get more drinks.” He drags him away, and Miguel, unable to come up with a good reason not to follow, does.

The next time you spin, all you catch is the backs of their heads.

The following week, you’re coming home from classes, and all you can think about is eating. You’d had to skip lunch to finish an assignment and couldn’t wait for dinner.

When you enter your apartment, you find Miguel sitting on your couch.

“Hey,” he greets. “Hi.” He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa closest to you, and he adorably shifts over to make room, as if you couldn’t just go around. You weren’t planning on sitting anyway, but now that he’s wordlessly extended an invitation, you do. “Where’s Alex?”

“Went to take a shower. We’re gonna play a couple games when he’s done.” He gestures toward the video game console. “Are the remotes charged?” you joke. “I hear it’s a hazard to have the wires across the living room floor.” Miguel chuckles lightly at your self-deprecating humor. He’s turned toward you, sitting in the middle of the couch, his elbow on the backrest as he occasionally messes with his luscious hair. “I felt so bad that day. Taking over your space and tripping you. When you looked so peaceful when we got here.”

“Don’t feel bad,” you laugh, amused but also masking your stirring feelings at the fact that he had thought about it at all. “I was just a mess that day. And I wouldn’t call my pyjamas peaceful, just comfortable. In my defense, though, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“I liked your pyjamas,” he teases, and you roll your eyes. “What? I did! I’m all for comfy clothing; have you not noticed 90% of my wardrobe is gym clothes?”

“Yes, well, you can get away with it. You’re a guy, and you look like that,” you say, gesturing at his body before you really realize what you’re saying. You tense as soon as you do. It just slipped out, the conversation getting weirdly easy and comfortable with him. “Like what?” he asks, but he’s smirking, knowing what you meant. You just roll your eyes again. “No, c’mon, chula, like what?” He lifts his eyebrows in challenge, mirth in his eyes. You’re too busy reeling from the pet name to have mental energy to come up with a retort. You’re grateful for what would’ve otherwise been embarrassing: your stomach grumbling. Miguel looks at your stomach and giggles. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you say, taking the escape route and walking to the adjoining kitchen. He follows. “You can get away with it too, you know,” he says nonchalantly. You think you know what he means but look back at him questioningly. “The clothes. You always look good.”

You’re glad you’re not facing him, your expression probably revealing your excitement. “Thanks.” “You’re welcome.” He leans on your counter. “So what are you having?” “I don’t know, whatever we have. Haven’t had time to go to the store.” You’re rummaging through your cabinets. “I can make you something,” he offers. You stop and look at him. “What? I’m a great cook,” he shrugs defensively. “Have you never had my tamales?”

“It’s not about you being good or not,” you giggle. “There’s no reason you should have to cook when you’re just here to hang out.”

He just shrugs again, but there’s a tinge of shyness in his typically confident facade.

You turn to open your fridge, and he comes up right next to you. “Oh shit, you guys have jarritos. Can I steal one?”

“Yeah, of course,” you laugh. “Grab whatever you want.”

You didn’t think he would immediately… As you bend over to grab something from the drawers, Miguel reaches up to grab the soda, leaning forward. Both of you moving simultaneously, your ass presses firmly against his crotch. You both freeze in panic, prolonging the position, before you jump up at the accidental contact. His and your “sorry”’s and “I didn’t mean to”’s get jumbled together in the colossally awkward moment. Miguel looks down, then back up again looking startled. He scurries around to the other side of the counter, it now separating you. “Jesus, Miguel, I didn’t do it on purpose! You don’t have to put a barricade between us; it’s not like I’m gonna jump you!” “No, no, it’s not that! Fuck, it’s, uh, fuck…” He looks lost for words. His hand comes to his face, covering it in resigned embarrassment. His voice is a mumble through his obstructing hand, “I’ve a bd’ve uh sitch-ation.”

“What?” He uncovers his face with an exasperated sigh. “I have… a bit of a… situation,” he whispers, looking down.

“Oh… oh!” you say, realization hitting you. Probably largely because of the awkward tension, at least partially at the idea of you giving Miguel O’Hara a boner, you start cracking up. He just stares at you, deadpan, his hands coming to his hips. “It’s not funny.” “It’s a little funny.” His glare cracks the tiniest bit.

“Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But it’s your fault!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Alex asks nonchalantly, coming out of his room, lazily drying his hair.

“Nothing!” you and Miguel say simultaneously.

“Okay… should I just pretend that wasn’t really suspicious?”

“Yes,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, really. Just me being clumsy again.”

His eyes are still skeptical, but Alex just chuckles and nods, letting it go at the look on your face. He heads to the couch with an easy “C’mon, man” at Miguel. Miguel follows, giving you a sideways glance and tense smile. When he sits, he immediately puts a cushion on his lap. You grab the first thing that looks edible in your fridge and head to your room.

Two weekends later finds you at another soccer team party. They’d lost this time, 2-1. Miguel scored their sole goal, and the other team’s second had been a sketchy penalty. If the victory parties were good, the defeat ones were wild. Most of the players, Miguel and Alex among them, were drowning their sorrows, especially after such a disheartening defeat.

You weren’t a player, but you had your own sorrows to drown, and you weren’t stopping yourself from doing just that. You’d hardly seen Miguel in almost two weeks, and the few times you had, he’d been cold, keeping interactions mainly to greetings and goodbyes. You didn’t know if you’d done something wrong, if he was still caught up with your little awkward encounter, or if you were just making it up, your feelings for him needing some outlet. Making up stories by constantly obsessing about him was as good as outlet as you could get sometimes. Alcohol was a better one now.

A while into the party, you’re at the bar for your… you lost count… numberth tequila shot. You down it, lick the salt off your hand, and stick the lime in your mouth, cringing.

Your eyes are still closed when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You open them and see Miguel standing beside you. “Maybe switch to water, huh, guapa?” he tells you.

“Why? M’fine,” you slur.

“Maybe, but you won’t be if you keep this pace up.” “And how would you know?”

“Just noticed,” he shrugs.

You squint your eyes accusingly at him. You didn’t know what you’d feel next time you talked to him, but you hadn’t expected to feel this angry.

“You notice me enough to watch how much I drink but not to say more than two words at a time to me for weeks?” He looks surprised. “Y/N…”

You cross your arms and lift your eyebrows in an implied “what?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you just walk past him. You end up walking through the dance floor, and though it wasn’t your plan, you kind of like moving to the music. You’re drunk enough to the lack the inhibitions to just dance alone. You’re enjoying yourself, not even bothering to look back and see if Miguel was still there. A bit later though, you startle as you feel a hand on your ass. You turn and find a random guy you’ve never met before, smiling at you disgustingly drunkenly. You’re taken aback, your mind already a bit slow from the alcohol, so you haven’t decided yet how to tell him to fuck off by the time Miguel is in front of you shoving him away. He’s not overly aggressive but, even drunk, easily moves the guy away from you with an angry “What the hell, man?”

The other guy looks seriously scared and just lifts his hands with a pathetic “sorry, Miguel.”

“Fucking better be, what the hell is wrong with you?” The other guy stumbles away. Miguel turns towards you, and his expression melts from frightening anger to warm concern in two seconds. “You okay?” he asks, his hands carefully grazing your shoulders. You nod and lean into him. At your seeming comfortable, he lets his arms come around you.

“Thanks,” you whisper in his ear.

“Of course,” he whispers in yours, and it sends a shiver down your entire body. You stare into his eyes, your hands resting on his chest.

“Miguel?”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna dance with me?”

They don’t call it “liquid courage” for nothing.

Miguel considers you for a moment, but a soft smirk is whispered across is sharp features. He nods slowly, and his hands move slightly further down your back. You close your eyes at the sensation of his hands running along your body. You run your hands up his chest slowly and wrap your arms around his neck. When you open your eyes, you see his crimson ones boring into you.

You start moving a bit more as you focus on the music to relieve some of the tension you’re feeling. He follows your lead, and soon you’re dancing together much more easily. As a couple of songs go by, you’re both moving freely, staying close to each other the whole time.

You’re so exhilarated, and he seems as enveloped in you as you are in him, so the next time the beat calls for it, you let your body twist rhythmically in his grasp. Your back is now flush with his chest, your ass on his crotch, your hand reaching behind you on his neck, in his hair. His hands are firm on your hips, and when you roll them against him, you hear his whispered “Fuck, mami” in your ear and feel his arm come around your middle, pulling you into him. His hips move in rhythm with yours. You’ve probably never been so turned on in your entire life. You keep this up for a delicious while. You can feel Miguel is hard through his jeans, but he makes no sign of being embarrassed, just continuing to dance with you with expert hip movements that make your imagination go wild. Of course he’d be an amazing dancer. Of course you’d imagine what else his hips could do.

You twist back in his embrace, coming to face him. He holds you close, and you bring a hand to his face. He leans into your touch. You move your face up slightly, and he seems to be following, moving his down. You’re so close, even think you feel your lips graze his, when someone bumps up against you, making you stumble.

Miguel’s strong arms catch you, but the moment is gone, and a second later, he looks startled.

“You okay?” he asks, stepping back a bit, speaking loudly to keep his distance. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you assure, but he seems off.

“Let’s get some air, huh?”

You follow him outside, the sudden change in ambience making your head spin a little. You lean against the wall, and he puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Sure you’re okay?” You nod but don’t say anything, maybe a bit drunker than you thought, trying to ground yourself. He leans on the wall next to you. His body is warm where it grazes your side. You can feel his gaze intermittently on you. You get a little dizzy again, and you lean onto his shoulder. He just lets you, and you stand like that for a while.

His fingers graze the back of your hand.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nod into his body. He wraps a firm arm around your shoulders and leads you away from the party.

You’re home before you know it, the whole journey a blur dominated by his warmth by your side. When you reach your front door, you lean on it and look up at him. His subtle smile elicits your full one. “Thanks,” you whisper. “’S no problem,” he shrugs. “You’ll be okay?” “Yeah,” you nod. You’re already sobering up. “You?”

He chuckles and nods.

“I wasn’t the one downing tequila shots like water,” he teases. Your cheeks warm, and you look down as you chuckle.

“Wasn’t that many…”

He laughs.

“It was, cariño.” Again with the pet names.

“I’m still surprised you noticed.” “I always notice you,” he responds without missing a beat. Your eyes snap up to his, and you see the longing there.

You stare at each other for a heavy moment, then, drunk more on the sensations of your earlier almost-kiss than on alcohol, chasing that feeling, you lean up to try again. Your lips are a breath away from his when he looks down, effectively rejecting your advance. You pull away, mortified.

“Sorry, I… sorry,” you stutter as you scramble for your keys. You turn to your door. “Y/N,” he whispers, his hand holding your wrist softly. “It’s okay,” you say, looking back him, wiping tears from your eyes. “You don’t have to say anything; sorry I misunderstood.”

You quickly go inside and close the door. You lean on it, crying. Miguel, eyes closed, fists clenched, rests his forehead on the opposite side.

Miguel doesn’t come around for a while. Even as days pass, you can’t stop thinking about your night together. Confusion, sadness, embarrassment — all mixing together into a terrible cocktail.

Another match day rolls around, and you can’t stomach the idea of watching Miguel play, of potentially having to talk to him after. You tell Alex you’re really sorry to not support him this time, but that you’re not feeling well. He worries over you a while, unhelpfully but adorably emptying your medicine cabinet onto the kitchen counter, looking through stuff, suggesting this and that, telling you to text him anything you needed that he could bring you after.

A while later, you’ve just slumped down onto the couch, when your stomach sinks at the sight you’re met with. There, at the corner of the room, lie his cleats. He’d been cleaning them the night before and had clearly forgotten to put them back in his gym bag.

“Fuck.”

You lift yourself up, grab them, and head over to the stadium.

When you get there, you pound at the locker room door, and it opens — of course, you couldn’t catch a fucking break — to Miguel O’Hara’s gorgeous face. Though he looks at you intently, you can’t quite read his expression. Then he yells over his shoulder, “Ale!”

Alex jogs over and, upon seeing you, lets out the biggest sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank God. I fucking love you.” He reaches for the cleats you’re holding up to him and gives you a bear hug. “Saved my fucking life, Y/N/N. Thank you.” He kisses your forehead. “You don’t look as sick. You’ll be okay?” He’s clearly in a rush to get back but wants to make sure you’re alright.

You nod and playfully shove his chest, pushing him back into the locker room. “You’re the best!” he yells over his shoulder as he saunters back. Miguel is still just standing there, all geared up for the match. It crosses your sick mind how good the uniform looks on him.

“You’re sick?” he asks.

“Nothing I won’t get over.” You offer him a weak smile. He’s nodding slowly, considering.

“Stay for the match?”

“Miguel, I —“ “Please.” You’ve never heard him plead before. You’re head is nodding before your mind can catch up. He just nods too. “I’ll find you after.” And with that, he jogs back into the locker room.

You’d never known ninety minutes could drag on for eternity, with a half-time’s worth of eternity in between. You’re sure you’re heartbeat was elevated the entire time, your mind and emotions reeling. What was Miguel going to say to you after the match? You had absolutely no read on him during your short interaction before. Then again, apparently you weren’t always great at reading him.

Minute after minute trickles by. At the end of the second half, your team up a goal (yes, Miguel’s), the ref announces an unusually large number of minutes. You moan with everyone else, for your own reasons. What was a potential leveler compared to the leveling of your heart?

Slowly, the minutes pass. The other team builds a mounting attack; they get a good attempt; they miss. The whistle blows; the crowd cheers, and you, you’re frozen in place.

You thaw yourself slowly as the players shake hands, go to their respective huddles. By the time they’re roaming the sidelines freely, you’ve only just managed to leave your seat.

As you descend the bleachers stairs, you catch sight of Miguel. He’s obviously searching, halfheartedly ignoring the congratulations coming from all sides. His eyes eventually meet yours, and as soon as they do, he’s running over to you, meeting you much closer to the bleachers than the field.

He comes to a stop right in front of you and just watches you. You just watch him. “Congratulations,” you say. He chuckles, lightly shaking his head.

“Thanks.”

He takes a step closer to you. “Y/N…” “Yeah?” “I…” “Miguel!” you’re interrupted. “Congratulations! Way to pull it out!” “Thanks, yeah, thank you,” he says hurriedly, looking back over to you. “Listen, I just, I wanted to clear things up after how we left them.” You nod, worrying your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around you defensively.

“I didn’t want you to think that —“

“Congratulations, Miguel! Did it again, man!” And a slap on the back.

“Uh-huh, yeah, thank you,” Miguel responds, turning away, approaching rudeness. “For fuck’s sake,” he says, much more softly. “C’mere.” He grabs your arm and drags you around the bleachers, stopping when you have a semblance of cover. He’s looking around to make sure no one else is about to talk to him, and his worried looks right after he’s just won makes you laugh. The sound draws his attention fully back to you. He smiles at seeing you smiling.

“Where can a guy get a little privacy, huh?” he jokes. “Probably not still by the field where he just scored the winning goal, I’m guessing,” you tease. He chuckles. Then he takes a deep, sobering breath. “Listen, Y/N…”

His tone sounds apologetic, and it makes you immediately think the worst. He probably just didn’t want you to be embarrassed. Wanted to fix things so they wouldn’t be awkward if he hung around, which he’d obviously want to do given Alex was his best friend.

Already fighting back tears, wanting to beat him to the punch to save face in whatever way you could at this point, you cut him off. “Miguel, you don’t have to explain anything or anything. I’m sorry I made more out of a good time than I should have. Please don’t let me keep you from hanging out with my brother even if I’m around, and I hope we can still be friends.” “What? No, that’s not… This isn’t about Alex. I mean, well it is a little bit.” He’s looking unsure. “Just keep things how they were before. It’s all fine.” “Is that what you want?” He looks serious. “What do you mean?” “Is that what you want? To keep things how they were before? To still be friends?”

“I… well… it’s what you want, isn’t it?” “I never said that.” “You didn’t have to. I tried to kiss you, and you pretty much said no to that. Twice.”

“I didn’t. Well, once, yeah I did, but it was only because I was worried you were too drunk. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. And, also, maybe a little bit because I panicked, okay?” He sounds more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard him yet. “I was worried it’d be weird with Alex or that I’d fuck it up with you, and I just, I don’t know, I panicked. And the other time wasn’t my fault. I was going to kiss you if you hadn’t stumbled.” “Someone bumped into me!” “I’m not blaming you! I just, it just, it made me remember you were drunk, and I didn’t want to be like that idiot guy I’d had to push away a while earlier.” “You’re nothing like that guy,” you say sternly. “I…” He’s started to look frustrated, unable to find the words. He runs his hand over his face, takes another deep breath. “What if you try now?” “What?” “I don’t know how to tell you. So maybe I can just show you. Try again, and no one will bump into you. I won’t panic, and I won’t think of all the things that could go wrong. I’ll think of how I’ve been feeling since that night. Absolutely fucking miserable. It’s been eating away at me; all I could think about was making it right with you, but I didn’t know how, didn’t know if I should. But I can’t take it anymore, and if you feel the same way, then, fuck, let’s just stop getting in our own way.”

“Miguel…” “Yeah?” “That was pretty good for not knowing how to tell me.” Your face forms the slightest teasing smirk, your eyes lighting up at the realization of what he’s telling you. “Shut up and kiss me already,” he says, rolling his eyes, unable to help his bright smile, pulling your body to his and bringing his lips onto yours.

You pull him into you, reciprocating eagerly. He moans into your mouth, and you feel his towering body sink onto yours. His arms are tight around you, one hand cupping your head, bringing you close. His kiss is fervent, desperate but concentrated.

You run your hands in his hair, and he chuckles gruffly, the sound muffled by your chasing mouth. You lose yourself in his embrace. You grip him tightly, breaching into his mouth, wanting to kiss him as much as wanting to be kissed by him. You could feel the beginning of a beautiful push and pull as your mouths move together, your bodies mold into each other’s.

You want to kiss him forever, but some loud cheering nearby startles you slightly apart. Miguel is looking deeply into your eyes. He kisses you again, lets his forehead rest on yours when he pulls back. You’re smiling when you say, “You should probably get back. I’m sure people are looking for you.” He groans dramatically and hides in the crook of your neck. He kisses it before saying, “I just want to be with you.”

You giggle, nuzzling his face with yours, holding him close, your hand in his hair.

“Yeah, me too.” He hums into your neck. He plants another kiss there, and one on your cheek on his way up, as he lifts his head again. His rough hands caress your face tenderly.

“This is good,” he says simply. You laugh and nod. “Fuck ‘em. I’ll go over there at some point. Let’s just stay here a little while longer.”

“Okay,” you smile.

Miguel leans back into you, kissing you and kissing you and kissing you.

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara angst #across the spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #slow burn #mutual pining #bbf!miguel #soccerplayer!miguel

271 notes · View notes

fvllingflower · 5 months

Text

Yearly Kiss

pairing: nonidol!wonu, afab!reader

genre: romance, smut

warning: pda, making out, boob play, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe!), aftercare

song recommendation: nobody knows by kiss of life

happy year of the dragon:)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Parties are usually not your thing they've never really been but you decided that since Wonwoo does so much for you, you'll do this for him plus the guys are your friends too.

You decided to wear a tight, black shirt with a shiny, short skirt and some thigh high boots with light makeup.

"Baby you ready to go?" Wonwoo asked from the living room.

"Yeah," You replied and walked into the living room to see your boyfriend, wearing a satin white button up and some black pants.

"Damn baby you look sexy," He came up and cupped your face and kissed me.

"I got my lipstick on you," You laughed.

"That's okay," He smiled. You started messing with a few top buttons.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Unbuttoning the shirt a little, so you don't look like a waiter," You smiled.

"Always taking care of me," He kissed your head. When you finished fixing his shirt, he looked at you sweetly.

"You ready to go?" He asked.

"Yeah let me just grab my purse and phone real quick," You walked off from him to grab your stuff.

You two arrived at the party and were greeted by Mingyu. You could see the rest of the guys not too far away.

"You guys came," The taller man hugged Wonwoo and you stood there holding his hand. Jun and Minghao coming towards y'all. Mingyu pulled back and patted your head which you're use to at this point. The other two came up and hugged you. Pulling you slightly away from Wonwoo to talk to you.

"You look sexy," Jun smiled which made you smile. He always saying shit like that but Minghao still hit his arm.

"I mean true, some of the others think so as well," Minghao added.

"Ooh who?" You asked.

"We can't say-" "Shua, Jeonghan, Vernon I think," Jun answered. After talking to them you went back over to where Wonwoo was with Mingyu.

"Oh Y/N, I invited some of your friends as well," Mingyu smiled and I nodded. Once he walked of you laughed.

"He's clearly drunk," You looked at Wonwoo who agreed with you.

"I'm gonna go hang out with the guys, and you go find the girls," He smiled.

"Mhm okay," You calmed down. He kissed your forehead before walking off.

You walked in the opposite direction.

"YOOHYEON!" I shouted happily.

"Y/N," She ran over and hugged you.

"Where's Wonwoo?" She asked.

"He's talking with the guys," You replied.

"You're mine now," She picked you up causing you to laugh hard. You two went where the other girls were at.

A couple hours and drinks later it's now 11:50... 10 minutes till New Year. You felt someone hug you from behind and you turned your head to see Wonwoo.

"10 more minutes till I get my kiss," He whispered. You rolled your eyes at him.

"Who are you guys gonna kiss?" You asked the girls and some shrugged.

"Bora and Siyeon are kissing each other, I'm gonna kiss Yoohyeon, and I don't know about the other three," Minji replied and I nodded.

"Gahyeon and Dongie could kiss but then Yubin would be alone," You thought out loud and the girls nodded.

"Ooh you guys could both kiss Gahyeon's cheek," You smiled.

"Yeah that'll work," Yubin nodded.

"How much longer?" You asked Wonwoo.

"5 more minutes," He replied.

We all went over to the TV and waited to countdown. Which felt like forever.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" You all shouted. You stood on the couch and kissed Wonwoo passionately, your arms wrapping around his neck and his arms around your waist.

"Happy New Year baby," He whispered against your lips. Suddenly you saw a flash hit you two and realized Bora took a Polaroid photo of you guys which made y'all laugh. She handed you the photo, you held it tightly before kissing Wonwoo again.

"Do you wanna go back home in a minute?" You whispered.

"Of course," He smiled. You pulled my arms away from him and got off the couch. You looked at the photo that Bora took and you smiled widely. You handed the photo to Wonwoo and walked over to the girls and started leaving kiss marks on their cheeks making them laugh. Some minutes you announced to everyone that Wonwoo and you are gonna go. You two said our goodbyes and left.

You two got to the shared house and locked the door. You two took your shoes off and then you grabbed his hand and lead him to the shared bedroom. He shut the door behind him and you cupped his face to kiss him deeply, he snaked his around your waist.

"Honey let me put the photo on the nightstand first," He pulled away from you. He sat down on the edge of the bed patted his lap to tell you to come to him. You straddled his lap and he pulled your top off of you before you two started to passionately making out. Your fingers playing with the buttons on his shirt as your lips attacked one another. Your lipstick now long gone. You pulled his satin shirt off of his toned body and threw it onto the floor. You pulled your lips away from his and latched your lips onto his neck. Placing wet kisses and soon leaving hickeys on the crook of his neck, and his collarbone. His hands come up from your waist and started to unclasp your bra and threw it onto the floor. He then latched his mouth onto your left boob and started sucking on it. His tongue doing circles on your nipple, his left hand massaging your right boob.

You started moving your hips against his thigh to feel friction.

"My baby needy?" He cooed.

"So needy," panted. His hands did a switch and started to suck and mark your right boob and now his right hand massaging your left boob, all making you whimper. Your hands digging into his hair. He pulled away from your boobs and looked up to kiss you deeply. You got off of him pulled your skirt off along with your underwear. You got to him and started unbuttoning his pants and he stood up to take his pants off but he kept his underwear on. He picked you up and laid you on the bed and climb on top of you and kissed you.

"Do you want me to make you feel good?," He asked while looking at you. You nodded your head eerily.

"Baby you have to speak," He smiled and placed kisses on your tits.

"God yes please Wonwoo," You let out.

"As you wish honey," He smirked. He climbed off of you and down to the accessible area between your legs.

You felt a soft kiss on your clit. He started licking your clit like he's a cat and you're the milk he's been looking for. The kitten licks going faster and then he started sucking and then back to licking your folds so sweetly. All of this causing you to arch your back and grip his hair and let out soft moans. He started sucking on you like a drink dripping on the side of the cup. His grip on your hips you swear it could've left a bruise.

"Won..woo," You moaned high pitch.

"Mhm?" He hummed and the vibration of his voice making you crazy as he then stuck his fingers into your core.

"Oh shit babe" You moaned. You started clenching around his fingers letting him know you're close. You released into his mouth and on his fingers and he ate it up like candy and cleaned you up.

"You're so gorgeous," He got eye level with you and kissed you softly making you taste yourself against his lips. He got up and took his underwear off, and shit how he was turned on, his tip red and leaking precum. He spread him precum around his tip before lining himself up.

"You ready?" He asked.

"More than ready," You smiled. He slowly slid into your hole as you two moaned in sync.

He stayed there for a minute to make sure you were adjusted. You tapped his shoulder as his signal. He slowly started thrusting, you wrapped your legs around him to help get deeper and for him to start picking up the pace and soon he went pretty fast. You felt him pounding inside you, he was giving you no mercy it seemed like. Your head tossed back, his hands were on your breasts, squeezing away as he pounded with no mercy. He soon enough hit your g spot making you moan loudly. You felt your walls tighten around him. He kissed your lips then he went to your neck kissing away as he continued to develop the knot in your stomach.

"God damn baby," He moaned onto your neck. His pounding kept going fast, and the grip on my breasts got tighter causing you to moan in pleasure and pain but it was mainly pleasure. The things he does to you feel so unreal and you didn't want it to end, his kisses always lingers and the feeling of him on your body lingers, you swear he's like magic, he knows exactly what to do and say. Fuck you love him so much. You suddenly felt euphoria release and the knot became undone. He slowed down a bit for you to ride through he orgasm before he went back to fucking you relentlessly. You swear one day he'll break you but god does it feel good. Man has some high stamina to keep going at this pace. His eyes glued to you, watching every moan come out of your mouth.

"Holy.. fuck" You moaned loudly as you arch your back. You felt the knot come back, so you started moving your hips with his to help get to your climax quicker.

His thrusts were getting sloppier so yoy knew he was close. Luckily as soon as he released inside of you, fucking his cum into you, you came for a second time. After a couple of minutes he slowly pulled out of you which caused you to whimper at the lose of warmth. He laid down next to you, pulling you on top of him and he caressed your back.

"I love you," He panted.

"I love you too," You smiled, he kissed your head. You two laid there catching your breath.

"Let me clean you up," He smiled as he sat up laying you on the bed. He went into the bathroom and you heard the water start running. You tried standing up but you quickly fell onto the floor with a loud thump.

"Baby are you okay?" He ran into the bedroom to see you on the floor.

"I'm okay, I guess my legs are jelly," You smiled. He walked towards you and picked you up, bridal style and sat you in the bath tub.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He looked concerned. You shook my head.

"It felt good," Your hand cupped his face. He blushed as he placed you into the tub and joining you. He pressed your back against his chest as he helped to clean you up. It felt so relaxing, you felt like you could fall asleep against his chest, right there and then. You two got out of the bath and he helped you dry off and put on some underwear and an oversized shirt. He carried you to bed. You sat up in bed waiting for Wonwoo to join you.

"You're adorable," He laughed endearingly. He cupped your face and kissed you softly making you smile. He climbed into bed and you quickly went to lay next to him. We cuddled up.

"Happy New Years baby," You looked up at him with a sweet smile.

"I love you honey," He smiled

"I love you too," You kissed his lips.

#jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo fic #wonwoo smut #wonwoo thots #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader

411 notes · View notes

leilakisakabiri · 1 year

Note

heyy, can u write one where gavi is obsessed by reader's smell?

Surprise (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi are in a long-distance relationship and you go to his game to surprise him, but he catches you.

Warning(s): None

Requested: Yes

A/N: Hey anon! Thank you so much for the request and thanks for being patient. Hopefully, I did the prompt justice! Not proofread.

Word Count: [1666]

Masterlist

You had reached out to Pedri a week ago asking him to help you surprise Gavi at the final La Liga game.

You were in university studying in America, and the two of you had been doing long distance since last summer. It was now early May and you had finished your exams just in time to be in Barcelona for the final game.

You had lied and told Gavi you wouldn’t be done for another week, before wishing him the best and making yourself scarce, telling him you were busy studying.

In the meantime, you had set up a plan to surprise him with Pedri and booked your tickets.

Once you landed in Barcelona, Pedri came to pick you up. You both smiled at each other warmly, telling each other about your lives since you’d been apart.

“I haven’t seen you since December. How have you been hermana?” Pedri questioned.

You laughed, telling him about your school and all the things you and your friends got up to.

“That sounds so fun. Now I’m jealous I never got to go to school in America!” He exclaimed.

“Mm. It’s probably not as fun as being a famous footballer.” You shrugged playfully.

“Yah I guess that’s cool too.” He remarked.

Before you knew it, you were pulling up to the stadium, and the nerves were beginning to set it in. You hadn’t seen Gavi in almost six months and you were a little nervous to see him again. Did he look the same? Would he be excited to see you?

Pedri could tell that you were getting in your head, and he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t overthink it, he’ll be happy to see you. He was so sad you couldn’t be here.”

You looked up at him, “Really?”

He nodded affirmatively and you felt yourself loosen up, “Thanks Pedri.”

He gave you a smile, ushering you out of the car and into the stadium.

“Ok so we only have a few minutes before the rest of the team gets here so we have to be quick.” Pedri spoke leading you into the locker room.

The plan was that you would leave a note in Gavi’s locker telling him to look up into the family section of the stands, and he would glance up before the game and see you standing there wearing his jersey, cheering him on.

You didn’t want to mess up the before-game ritual, or the meeting with his team, so you opted for seeing him after the game as opposed to before.

You had just placed the note in his locker when you heard the locker room door open, male voices filling the air.

You looked up at Pedri in horror, his facial expression mirroring yours, as you both froze.

He snapped out of it first and pushed you towards the showers, “Oh shit, go hide!”

You had just snapped the shower curtain closed when you heard a voice, “Pedri, hey man. Why are you here so early?”

You heard Pedri let out an awkward laugh, and you cringed, poor boy was never a good liar, “Oh hey Ansu. Uhm- y’know just like to be early.”

A new voice responded, “Really since when?”

You breath caught in your throat, it was Gavi.

It had been so long since you heard his voice in person, it sounded so real, and so close. You felt a wave of emotions hit you. Hearing his voice made it ten times harder to keep yourself hidden, and only amplified how much you missed him.

“Ehh big game so wanted to start now.”

The boys seemed to accept his answer, continuing their conversation.

You silently prayed that they would move toward the other end of the locker room so that you could make a quick escape.

But it seemed like luck was not on your side today.

Gavi was in the middle of a sentence when he abruptly cut himself off.

“Do you smell that?” He asked, pausing to inhale.

“Did you just sniff the air?” Pedri asked him, trying to hold back his laughter.

“Shut up, it smells like Y/n.”

You felt your blood run cold. Oh shit. You had totally forgot about your perfume.

You had bought the perfume months ago, back when you were still with Gavi in Barcelona last summer. You had been looking for something that smelled like warm summer nights and when you found it you bought it instantly. However, it wasn’t just you who loved the smell as just twenty minutes after you wore it for the first time Gavi had you spread out on the couch, lips planting kisses all over you, hands exploring every inch of your body.

“You smell so good.” He groaned, kissing the column of your neck.

Your breathing was unsteady, and you found it hard to concentrate, “Thanks, I just bought it. It’s supposed to smell like summer."

“Well whatever it is, I love it.” Gavi murmured, his words caught between his mouth and your skin.

Since then, it had become your everyday perfume, and you spent the rest of summer wearing it and driving Gavi crazy.

He said it smelled exactly how he imagined you to be. Sweet and intoxicating.

Now you were wearing the same exact perfume, having forgotten about Gavi’s obsession with it.

You were scared that you had just outed yourself, but you were also impressed that the perfume had lingered for that long.

Guess it was a good buy.

“What?” Pedri asked him pretending to be confused, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

“She always smells like coconut and jasmine, and the locker room smells exactly like that.”

“I think the dirty socks are getting to your head. Go get ready.” Pedri retorted, trying to steer the conversation away from you.

Gavi shook his head, “Pedri I swear. Am I going crazy?”

Ansu spoke, “Nah bro I smell it too.”

That was all the confirmation Gavi needed, “Where is it coming from?” He asked as he set his bag down beginning to move around the room.

You could hear Pedri shuffling as well, presumably following the boy, “C’mon this is stupid. Let’s focus on the game. The rest of the team will be here any minute.”

Gavi sighed, “Ok yah.” He resigned, moving to go change into his uniform.

“Be honest Pedri, did you have a girl in here?” Ansu asked playfully.

You heard Pedri sputter, and you let out a small gasp, not being able to hold back your laughter.

“What was that?”

“What?” Pedri asked, his voice rising unintentionally.

“Swear I heard something over there.” Ansu stated.

You bit your lip, moving back into the shower, cursing yourself for making noise.

It was quiet for a moment, and then a second later you felt the shower curtain being ripped open.

You were greeted by a very stressed-out Pedri and a confused Ansu.

“What the fu-“ You desperately held up a finger to your mouth, pleading with him to be silent.

“What?” Gavi asked coming over.

Ansu quickly shut the curtain again, “Oh nothing. Just thought I saw a spider.”

They all moved away from the showers, and you let out a breathe. You couldn’t believe how close you were to being caught.

All you had wanted to do was surprise your boyfriend, but that was turning out to be much harder than you thought.

You heard more voices begin to fill the locker room, and you wondered if Pedri was going to come and get you or if you were on your own.

A moment later, the shower curtain slowly opened and Pedri popped his head inside.

“That was so close!” He whispered.

You stepped out of the shower, “I know! Now get me out of here.”

“Ok, most of the guys are in the main changing area, waiting for coach. We’re going the other way, so just walk in front of me and we’ll be good.”

You nodded, feeling Pedri walk behind you as you took a left out of the shower area.

You had your sights fixed on the door and were just steps away when a voice interrupted. “Pedri, do you know anything about this no-“ You heard Gavi ask before his voice faltered,

“Who’s that?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing your cover had officially been blown.

You felt Pedri freeze behind you. He began to speak without turning around, scrambling to come up with something.

You cut him off, turning around and finally revealing yourself, “Surprise!”

Gavi stood there in shock staring at you for about five seconds, unmoving, before his body caught up to his brain and then he was colliding into you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a tight hug.

“Holy shit. Y/n? What are you doing here bebe?” He asked his voice rising in excitement.

You giggled as he picked you up, spinning you around.

You looked up at him once he put you down, reaching up to caress his cheek, “I wanted to surprise you! But you kind of ruined it for yourself.” You admitted.

“I don’t even care. I’m so happy you’re here.” He spoke, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers.

You smiled, kissing his cheek as you promised you’d find him after the game.

He walked you to the door, as you basked in each other’s presence.

You gave him one last kiss before pulling away.

“I knew I smelled you!” he exclaimed.

You giggled, “Yah I forgot about that. Can’t believe you sniffed me out.” You teased while ruffling his hair.

He gave you a playful glare before fixing his hair, “Oh c’mon you know I love it.”

You smiled, “I know.”

You gave him one last wave before turning and walking through the tunnels towards the seats.

You heard him yell after you, “Nice jersey!”

You turned around, a grin on your face, “Thanks. It’s my boyfriend’s.”

2K notes · View notes

liveontelevision · 3 months

Text

Tap Out Vox X Reader

Ok, I am in LOVE with this god dam TV head lookin ass, so here's a quick one shot of him being an absolute Sub! Mess!

------

The All-Mighty Vees were the central powerline for entertainment and technology in Hell, but even those three dorks liked to have fun. Sometimes, they would play poker games on their rare nights off that miraculously lined up. Of course, money means nothing to these business partners, so they like to bet on favors. There were times when Valentino would lose to Velvette, who would get to use his studio for a day, or Valentino would get to borrow some of Velvette's actors for a shoot, little things like that; things that would be considered a minor inconvience. Until tonight, that is.

•••

Velvette created a sort of dancing competition program, and it was booming in Hell. The show was spiced up with a stage covered in landmines, falling spikes, randomly shooting arrows, etc. Contestants were judged by their talent and if they came out in one piece by the end of the routine. The season finale was fast approaching, but Velvette was lucky to get a quick game of poker in between her packed schedule. With her cunning and wit (and some cards under the table), Velvette managed to weasle a win from Vox. He was never one to complain about carrying through with these favors, so Velvette took the chance to bring her program to the next level.

"You have to compete!" She declared with pride, her hands slamming on the table, with a sly smirk. "It'll be easy, i'll get someone to train and. but i need a hook for this finale, and your dashin' face would be perfect. And! I'll pair you with my best dancer, eh? How's that sound, love?" She explained, showing no sign of wavering. She clearly had this planned ahead of time.

"Fuck me, Velvette." He squints, throwing his cards behind his shoulder. "Fine.. i guess the publicity will boost viewers on both our fronts- " He groans and crosses his arms over his chest. "- Hate to admit it, but i haven't been tuning in, doll. So, who's this dancer i'm stuck with?"

•••

You arrived in hell after a life of drugs, sex and booze. You always joked about going to Hell. It was obvious you wouldn't make the cut into heaven. What you definitely werent expectingbwas for Hell to look just like the busy and messy streets of the ritzy cities you would party in. With absolutely no shame or doubt, you were quick to work your way up in the industry to work for the Vees. You started with Valentino, working up quite an audience in that field. And he didn't even make a contract! You said yes to anything, so really, there wasn't a point. That grew to helping Velvette with some small rolls in some shows, then moved up to you, performing and acting often. You were the lead singer of a band in your life, and you had quite a few talents hidden up your sleeve. Truly, a perfect byproduct of the Vees. Once Velvette pitched the show to you, you immediately auditioned as always and were quick to get in.

Weeks pass, and you're finally in the top 3 of the show! You were a solo dancer throughout, but with the routines provided, you were required to find a dance partner. Velvette to the rescue, somehow managed to bag the other Vee, Vox himself. You'd be lying if you said this didn't get you excited.

During one of the dress rehearsals, you were finally able to work your routine with Vox. Sure, you've met him before and said hi in passing, even going out with the Vees for some press events, but you never expected to get this close to him. Velvette would provide some amazingly embarrassing footage of his dance lessons. The two of you couldn't help but giggle at the powerful demon, getting so frustrated to music. Still, seeing his towering figure made you siddently nervous to have such intimate contact with him.

He came into the rehearsal space with a black turtle neck and pants, going along with some heeled boots that he'd have to wear during the performance. No matter how nicely those tight clothes hugged his figure, it was immediately disheartened by the scowl on his face. You couldn't help but hold in a laugh, picturing the compilation of videos that Velvette had previously shown you of his many failed lessons.

You weren't wearing much, a lilac cropped tank top and some yoga shorts that almost seemed too small, as well as strappy jazz shoes that you had to wear doing the final performance. This get-up made Vox look you up and down when he finally meets with you face to face. His unethusiastic expressions made him look more childish and grumpy than intimidating.

To you, at least.

"So! Pleasure to work with you, sir. Can't wait to see how you keep up with me." You commented smugly, reaching a hand out for a formal handshake. He scoffs and brushes your hand away before simply walking off to discuss something with Velvette. You crossed your arms across your chest and huffed, letting some random assistant tie your hair up as you glared in his direction.

After Velvette scolded him on something you didn't hear, the rehearsal began. Since your usual style was fast pased and almost always involved some sort of sexual overtone, the plan was to choreograph something intimate to create a sort of power couple for people to route for. This involved a lot of close contact that you and Vox were immediately struggling with. With movements that involved swinging you around, dipping you, and generally keeping you close to his chest, it was no simple task for two demons with a competitive streak.

After hours of eventually getting the choreography down, the main notes involved the constant glares you two were giving each other.

"Hey! You owe me this, I won game night! So make this work, fucker!" Velvette was getting fed up with Vox at this point and there was a scheduled photo shoot for some promo images coming up, so you had to break anyway. You went into your dressing room to change into your costume for the shoot. A slinky red sequence dress with a tightened corset that hugged your hips and stopped right at the point where you had to pull it down every so often as to not flash anyone. Paired with some fishnets and black shiney jazz shoes. It was simple compared to some of the stuff Velvette's had you wear, but it'll definitely draw some eyes when plastered on a big enough billboard.

Finally reaching the studio after hair and makeup battered your face, you got a look at Vox. He wore a white button-up that was neary opened down to his clavicle, where the red belt of a tuxedo hugged his waist, tying your outfits together. He cuffed his sleeves while waiting for some kind of direction. You couldn't help but pause to take in some of his features that you've never seen before. The bare skin of his chest and the strong arms that led into the same blue claws that were just around your waist during rehearsal. He caught you staring and knew exactly what was going on in your head. His first response was to send you a smirk that you couldn't decipher as harmless or not. You both snap out of your gaze when Velvette yells in some directions to push you into the camera's frame.

You were menuvered physically, someone essentially adjusting your position until it looked right. The final pose had your chest flush to his, and your leg hiked up his body as you swung backward to look at the camera. Vox was there to hold you in place by gripping underneath your thigh and having a tight hold onto your waist. It was difficult, but after multiple other provocative positions, the shoot was finally done. The two of you quickly pulled away from each other, smothered by the clashing energy.

"This'll have to do, i guess. Okay, flat face, you're good for today. The next rehearsal is tonight, now shoo." Velvette doesn't even look up from the screen in front of her as she nearly throws the two of you out of her studio. The door shut with a slam after you stumbled directly into Vox. He had grabbed onto your forearms, forcing your hands to lay on his chest to brace your fall. You quickly pushed off of him to stand straight, crossing your arms and stubbornly looking away. The tightened laces of your dress pushed your cleavage up a bit, giving a lovely show for the TV demon that towered over you.

He lets out a sigh of disgust after snapping his gaze away from your body. "Knock it off, will you? You're acting like a brat." He hissed at you, beginning to walk towards the hallway with the dressing rooms. You quickly stumbled in the same direction, attempting to keep up with his long strides.

"Fuck you, Vox! I'm just trying to do my job!" You quickly retorted, finally walking alongside him, your arms crossed again. He takes another quick glance at your body, unfortunately getting caught. "And stop that, you freak! You'vs been eyeing me up all day, you might as well fuck me in the dressing rooms if your so interested in my tits." You snapped at him, but your last response gave Vox a wicked idea. He wasn't one to refuse a challenge.

"Sure, we've got time, doll." He shrugs off the comment as you start to turn into your room. You quickly turned your body to face him, an angry yet reddened expression on your face.

"Seriously, fuck you." You muttered, turning to enter your dressing room. You go to open your door before you're cornered against it by Vox's arms, caging you in. You turn back to face him, trying to appear disgusted even with the heat crawling over your cheeks.

"If you think you can handle it, sweetheart." He smirked down at you, enjoying watching you squirm more than he'd like to admit. It finally evolved into an unspoken game of chicken. You took your doorknob and opened the door, letting the two of you fall in. Aware of your action, you slid back to keep Vox from falling onto you. He stumbled forward while glaring at you, still not planning on backing down. But neither were you.

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips against his. It felt like a cold screen for a moment before quickly melting into the sensation of physical lips. He was shocked by the bold move but has played this game all too many times. It was always easy for Vox to charm or hypnotise his way out of a situation like this, but his competitive spirit was strong. He was quick to lift you up from under your legs and essentially drop you onto the vanity. The wood hit your tailbone with a thud, and you let out a flustered yelp into his lips. Your arms quickly found their way to his shirt, untucking it until it loosely hung around him. He lifted himself away from you but was still close enough for your legs to be nearly draped around his hips. He began to unbotton his shirt that you had so kindly untucked.

"You sure you wanna keep this up, sweetie? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you or worse -" he leaned in, becoming uncomfortably close to your ear. "- injure you before your big show." The threat only made your blood boil, but a flashing light caught your eye. His chest was dark, with glowing blue circuits that occasionally seemed to flicker.

"As if. You couldn't even keep up with me even if i was injured." You spoke smugly, trying to keep your cool while denying the heat pooling in between your legs. He scoffs and starts to undress you, while you assisted. It was aparently a two person job, with an unspoken understanding that Velvette would kill both of you if the dress was ruined in anyway. After it was safely tossed the side, Vox was quick to start running his claws along the curves of your body. You pulled him impossibly closer, your legs nearly wrapping around his hips. You tried your hardest to stifle any response to the claws trailing down the center of your stomach. Finally, you pushed him away, letting your hands lead him to fall back on some decorative couch that was nearby. You were quick to straddle him, feeling the buldge in his pants to gauge how much of an upper hand you had.

"Aw, was the idea of fucking me on my own vanity getting you all excited?" You asked him in a teasingly sweet voice, running your hands along the bottom of his screen, then tracing your hand down towards his pants.

"I could ask you the same thing." He muttered, taking a hold of your hips and pullimg them closed towards his groin. You were quick to lift your hips off his lap, pushing his back fully against the backrest and breaking that contact. You let out a deceivingly sweet chuckle, before planting a small kiss on his neck. His skin really was metal, no matter the heat you felt through his pants. It was cold to your lips, but once you noticed a reaction from him, you just had to keep it up.

His breath became a bit heavier as his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing his clawed fingers into it almost to the point of skin breaking. You tried your best to not let a noise out, luckily your face was hidden in the nook of his neck and his shoulder. Even with his robotic anatomy, his skin was melting with each mark, bite and kiss you left on his chest. The action of covering his chest in the bright red lipstick you wore, brought the both of you closer to together, your hips finally meeting his again. As your chests became flush, you looked back up to him, seeing the eyes on his monitor glazed over, somehow some dewy tears beneath them.

You were winning.

You tilted your head back for a moment, seeing the large mirror from the vanity was directly behind them, leaving the both of you entirely visible to Vox. You tip his monitor foward with a forceful lift, holding tight as you made him look over your shoulder.

"Look at you.. quite a sight, huh?"

You teased in a harsh tone, leaning back a bit for him to see the cluster of marks and stains you left on his collarbone. "What do you think? Red really is your color. You look soo pretty." Your words were meant to piss him off, but seeing how he melted and let out a breathy groan when you called him pretty was an even better reaction. He looked away from the mirror, flustered at the sight of himself.

"Ohh, is Mr. Bigshot here enjoying some tender love and care? Aww, well, all you had to do was ask, baby~" You crashed your lips against his again, shocking him back into the moment, as he held onto your hips to brace himself. You were quick to pull away, leaving him unfulfilled before peppering multiple kisses across his screen and making sure you were to leave as many vivid red lip stains as you could.

"F.. Fuck you..." he mumbled, "fuck this'll be a pain in the ass to get off.." You look down at him from your higher position, an almost dark look across your face.

"Then tell me to stop. Either give up and accept defeat-" you started, beginning to stand in front of him." Or give in. And let me take care of you." You ran your hand along his pants, your fingertips brushing across the stiff tent in his pants. He let out the smallest yelp, not expecting the sensation. You continued to just lightly touch his groin, reaching to fiddle with his belt buckle.

"So? What are you gonna do? You gonna give in? You want me to keep touching you, hm?" You teased, leaning towards his face by placing your hands on his seated thighs. Your bent position left a great view of your ass, still clothed with sleek red underwear and fishnets. He pouted, looking into the mirror momentarily to appreciate the sight. You looked over your shoulder, grabbing his screen to jerk him back to your eye level.

"Tap. Out." You hissed, glaring into his eyes.

"Fuck! Fine, whatever! I tap out.. I-I.. Keep touching me.. i want you to keep touching me." He let out, getting progressivly flustered as he spoke. You looked at him, trying desperately to hide a smirk by biting your loeer lip. Noticing that you still weren't making a move and definitely wouldn't let him take the upper hand at this point, he rolls his eyes and looks towards the ceiling to avoid your eyes. "Please." He blurted out, a cyan hue growing across his cheeks. You let out a confident chuckle, before immediately dropping to your knees in front of him and continuing to fully release his throbbing cock from his already dampened trousers.

"Good boy~ Now enjoy the show, okay?" You let out before taking a hand around the base and sending a long lick up his length, immediately drawing the head into your mouth. You worked your magic, running your tongue in circles around the head and pumping your hand across the rest. The heat of your mouth on his tip and the coolness of the room barely breezing across the rest of his hard on made him shutter. He was looking down at you, instinctively attempting to buck his hips. You were quick to use your other hand to push his hips back down, running your neatly done nails across his thigh to the point of leaving marks, clearly indicating don't try that shit again.

You start to take in more of his cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head to set a nice rhythm, nothing that couldn't finish him off just yet, but enough to make him lose his composure more than he already has. You look up to meet his eyes, seeing him stare down at your work. You slowed to an impossibly slow speed before quickly pulling your mouth away, a line of saliva still connecting your lips to his member.

"That's not what i meant." You spoke strictly, reaching up to tilt his screen back towards the mirror. He did enjoy the pretty sight of you on your knees, but his mess of an appearance and reactions embarrassed him."If i see you looking anywhere else - if i see that you're not enjoying the show-" you squeezed his cock that had cooled from your hot spit hitting the cold air of the room. Almost too tightly. He winced, looking back down at you with a wide concern. " -Then i'll just have to stop. I can't reward that sort of behavior, hun." You sounded almost threatening and continued to tighten your grasp. He reached down, squeezing your shoulder before fixing his weary eyes to look at his wreck of a reaction in the mirror. "There we go! See? Look how lovely you look." You switched almost immediately to a sweet voice, loosening your grip and nuzzling his cock against your cheek, right at the corner of your mouth. "So? Are you gonna play along? Be good for me?" You spoke with hot breath against his member, your lips hovering just over the head. He nodded reluctantly.

"Say it." Another sudden transition from that sweet tone back to a stern voice.

"Nng... I'll be g-good.." he spoke quietly, ashamed that he had to say that while looking into the eyes of his reflection. You let out a sly chuckle, immediately assuming a quick pace. You weren't quite able to reach the base, but you made up the difference in your hand, and your other still dug your nails deeply into his thigh. The combined sensations of pain and pleasure made him whimper, struggling to keep his eyes open and his head foward. Every time you saw him start to lose his computer, you either slowed to a complete stop, ran your sharp teeth across his shaft as a warning, or behan to squeeze at his base. Each warning was enough for him to realize he was losing his attention. As he got closer, still somehow managing to stare into the reflection, he reached for your hair, running his claws across your scalp.

You allowed this, he's been doing so good for you, after all.

Holding his hips down to prevent any involuntary jerks, you began to sloppily cover his cock with your spit, speeding up even more. You needed him. Now. He was quick to let out moans and groans, not very domineering ones, which almost surprised you. He was truly unraveling.

"I-I'm gonna.." he started to say in between breathy moans. As soon as you heard you sped up right until you felt his cum hit your tongue. But as soon as you felt the smallest amount, you stopped and held your grip tightly around his base, not stopping him from finishing but definitely making it more difficult to enjoy. You pulled your head back, catching your breath. You sit up on your knees and pull his monitor to reach your lips, kissing the small amount of his cum into his mouth with your tongue. His eye twitched at the new flavor in your mouth and was quick to pull away, wiping his lips ftom a combination of drool and his own fluids.

"That was good! You handled me so well.. But i didn't give you permission to cum did I? And you ruined my hair." You almost pouted, looking back to the mirror to attempt to fix your hair up as much as possible. You got a good look at his full body and smiled into the mirror. "God, you're beautiful, Vox." You said, your voice dripped with sweetness as you turn a decievingly genuine smile his way. It only made him blush more. The sight made you absolutely giddy. You finally looked down at him, seeing him begin to go soft." Ah ah~, you need to deal with the mess you made, baby." You took a hold of his still twitching cock, moving your hands along it again. It was quick to stiffen up again, but the overstimulation from just finishing drove Vox to lean his head back and let out more breathless moans. In a quick motion, you were back in his lap, just hovering your entrance over his member. You moved your underwear to the side, running your own fingers between your folds and lifting your hands back up to his view.

" See what you're doing to me? You lost your little game, and now, i'm left with this mess." You spoke matter of fact, licking your own fluids off your fingers. You quickly pressed another kiss against his mouth, the mixutre of both your fluids making this an especially messy one. His senses were overloaded. Every now and then, some moans would come out with a slight delay or glitch to them. He placed his hands on your hips, wanting to get at least one victory out of this. With one claw, he carefully ripped the fishnets covering yout entrance before forced himself into you, bottoming out immediately. You shot up, yelping at his sudden courage. Giving you time to relax into him, you gripped onto his shoulders. He led you up and down on his cock, barely guiding you before you began to move at your own pace, beginning to unravel yourself. He tilted his head to look into the mirror again. Seeing you from both angles made him drive up into you harder. He had to admit, it was a great view.

As you bounce yourself on his cock, you take his hand and lead his fingers to rub your clit. He immediately picked up the note and began to run tight circles with the sharp tip of his finger. The sensation made you shiver, his metal like claws a start contrast to the warmth you were amitting. Beginning to hit your g spot timed with the constant contact of his finger to your clit, left you breathy, a moaning mess. He was reaching his breaking point, making his body physically react to yours. Small and sudden shocks would amit from his finger and occasionally through his cock, causing a sensational pain. His voice continued to glitch, indicating how he was about to finish, which you noticed immediately. You slam down onto him, lifting his eyes towards you by grabbing a hold of his neck, lightly squeezing.

"You have to get permission to cum. Got it?" You said sternly, your sudden halt making his leg twitch and shift underneath you. "O-okay.. fine..! Keep going, i'm close-" you yanked him closer.

"Ask. Nicely."

"Fuck... C-can I cum for you..? Please... let me-" his voice began to trail off as you quickened your pace again. "Such a good boy. Okay, but only because you asked so nicely." You praised and tapped your finger against his nose(?) mockingly, then felt another shock run up inside of you. He finished almost immediately hearing those words. You felt his cum fill you up, but you guided his hand back down to your clit to continue rubbing as you kept up your pace. His sensitivity left a twitching static shock inside of you, which was quick to lead you to finish, the heated pain in your stomach finally releasing.

You fell onto him, your head resting on his shoulder as you simply stay seated om top of him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. He was nuzzling the side of his screen into your ear and kissing just along your neck. As soon as you regained your senses, you melted into his aftercare. You wouldn't expect him to be so sweet to you after this, but he was holding on to you like his worse fear was you getting up. You ran your hands along his back, enjoying how much comfort he seemed to need so desperately.

The sweet moment lasted for a while, before you pulled away gently and looked up towards the clock near the door.

"Fuck! Rehearsal! Get up get up!" You quickly lifted yourself off of him, before you looked at eachother. Your fishnets were ripped, some small bruises on your neck. He managed to plant a few, but that was nothing compared to the sloppy lipstick covered state he was in. "Ugh, god dammit!" You stormed off and quickly grabned some wipes, scrubbing the lipstick off his screen and chest." Velvette's gonna kill me..!" You groaned, nearly getting everything off.

"Calm down doll, I'll get some people from hair and makeup to fix up this mess." He snapped his fingers, which somehow alerted an imp assistant to knock on the door. You quickly reached for a nearby robe and tied it around your waist just as they entered the room. "-and they will have no problem with keeping this little secret, right?" His eye began to run hypnotic waves as he was quick to brainwash the assistant. You hesitantly sat and let the imp quickly fix up your messy appearance after finding new fishnets and hanging up your delicate dress to put back on later. Vox sat there, his shirt still completely undone, his legs crossed and arms splayed across the back of the couch. He simply sat there, watching you get pampered to perfection again. Every tine you made eye contact with him you began to turn red. Sure, you had the upper hand just moments ago, but the effect this demon had on you was immense, making the immediate poeer dynamic switching back to him.

Once the two of you had cleaned up a bit more, you headed towards the door. He spun you before pressing a quick kiss on your forehead, then turned you back and let you walk out in front of him.

"I told you i could handle it, and it for sure seemed like you couldnt keep yourself together. So, i win!" You clarified as the two of you walked down the hall, back towards the rehearsal space.

"Fine. Sure. Watever you say. Keep telling yourself that.. if that's what it takes to make you do it again." He shrugged off your obviously victory with that dumb invitiation. You punched his arm as the two of you continued to argue. It was still clear to you both. You came out on top this time.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #the vees #hazbin smut #vox x reader #vox x you #vox #submisive sissy

272 notes · View notes

hitomisuzuya · 7 months

Note

Hiiii How r u??<333

May I request Scara trying to complete NNN but Fem Reader keeps teasing him pls? Wearing short skirts and tight clothes making it hard for him <3

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Teasing. Masturbation. Scaramouche trying really hard not to have perverted thoughts.

I'm doing okay❤️ It was really fun to write this.

You would never forget the way Scaramouche boasted that he could do No Nut November easily. Truth is, he didn't put a lot of thought behind the declaration. Pretty much his only weakness was you. But, he was determined not to crack, no matter what you did to him.

It was little things that started getting to him a first. Like Smelling your shampoo while you were taking a shower, the tendrils of hot water reaching places he wish his fingers, his mouth and his cock could go. He thudded his head against the wall of his bedroom trying not to think about making you sucking his cock until the water in the shower turned cold.

The imprints of his fingernails in the palms of his hands would always be fresh and stinging, especially when you walked around in short skirts with thigh or knee high stockings. His cock throbbed when he saw the flash of a garter belt fastened around your thigh. He wanted to snap it on your thigh while he tongue fucked you into oblivion for teasing him like this.

You made it your mission to make it easy for him to hear you masturbating, even leaving the bedroom door cracked open to add to the temptation. It was so hard for him stop himself from palming and rubbing his aching cock when you would look right at him and moaned his name, spreading the lips of your pussy so he could see your fingers pumping in an out of you. His jaw would be sore from how hard he was gritting his teeth, wanting so badly to replace your fingers with his.

The worst day for him was when you straddled his thigh wearing no panties, whispering in his ear how you wanted to use his thigh to get yourself off. He wanted to push you off of him, his cock leaking and straining in his shorts hearing you whimper as you rubbed yourself into a wet, moaning mess on this thigh. At least he got to feast his eyes on your expression whole your cum soaked onto shorts. But that only seemed to make things so much worse all the same.

You would even leave your panties laying around your room, challenging him not to jack himself off into them. You enjoyed watching him struggle with the compulsion. He was hardly sleeping by this point, it was hard for him not to cum you were teasing him so much.

On the last week was when Scaramouche caved. You walking around in absolutely no panties and a short skirt. "Fuck this challenge," He hissed, pulling you to straddle his lap. God, it felt so good to grind up against you again. He knew he wouldn't last long, but he didn't care.

"S-Scara, you got so far," You moaned, making him growl as he grinds turned more urgent. He hissed in pleasured relief when cum spurted in his shorts. He was so pent up. Cumming once wasn't going to be enough.

Scaramouche flipped you over onto your stomach, yanking your skirt up once he'd freed his already hardening cock from what he'd considered the hellish prison of his shorts. "Brace yourself, kitten. We have weeks worth of fucking to catch up on," He groaned as he slammed himself inside of you, bottoming out at once with a quick snap of his hips.

The moan of relief he let out was long and husky feeling your walls tighten and clamp around his cock as he fucked into you from behind for the first time in almost a month. His fingers were feverish on your clit, his skin smacking aggressively against yours as he pressed your face into the pillows.

Scaramouche wasn't going to stop impaling you on his cock in various positions for hours, never stopping until his cock was milked completely dry. You had to be punished severely for putting him through this hell.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #no nut november #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you

760 notes · View notes

chellestrash · 7 months

Text

Please, Mr. Ghost Face

Frank Castle x F!Reader Halloween Special (18+)

Warnings: explicit language, explicit smut, semi-public, unprotected sex, roughy sex, brat! reader, frank being kinda bitchy, oral (f!receiving) knife play, mention of blood play, teasing.

Summary: look at the title, look at the warnings, you know what it is, enjoy!!

Word count: 7.2k

AN: Oh my god okay, thank you @chelseasdagger and @suitsofwo3 for getting me to actually finish writing this (i literally felt like i was loosing my god damn mind trying to push through). I dont know why it turned out so long I dont normaly write things that are over 3k so this...yeah I really hope at least some of you will enjoy. I love reading your thoughs and feedback on my fic so please, feel free to share them. Reblogs are very appriciated as always :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

You're not sure how Frank managed to get his entire Halloween costume ready before you finished the few quick fixes to your makeup. Even considering the fact that it took you around an hour to get the whole look together, and he repeatedly told you no matter when he started getting ready, he'd still be finished before you. He was right. Was it annoying? Slightly, yes, but for once, him being right was actually a good thing since you were already late to a house party one of your friends decided to throw at the end of the week once most of you were finally done with work.

You fix up your lipstick and try the fake fangs on one more time before messing with your hair a bit and taking a couple steps back to check the outfit out in the mirror. Nothing too creative, just a simple well-fitted black dress, slightly shorter than what you'd usually wear, a couple of bright red details and some silver jewelry. A last minute vampire, sure, it'll do.

You straighten up the fabric and look up and down at your reflection one more time.

“Right, I think I'm ready!”

You raise your voice, making sure he’d hear you, before grabbing the last few things and turning to the door.

“So, what did you decide to go as?”

You shout again, curious about how much effort he decided to put into the whole thing this year. Halloween wasn't necessarily a holiday Frank enjoyed, but he'd do this and that occasionally just to make you happy.

“Did you figure it out?”

Another question since he didn't answer the previous one. You step out of the room, digging through your small bag in search of your phone before you walk directly into your boyfriend’s chest.

“Shit, sorry.”

You mumble and Frank grabs your arm, helping you regain the balance before you end up with your ass on the wooden floor.

“Christ, easy, 'you okay?”

Frank’s deep, groggy voice rumbles through your body, and you take a moment to fix up the dress before finally tracing your eyes up his body. You bite the inside of your cheek and it feels like the words get stuck in your throat before you can answer him.

Frank stands in front of you with his usual outfit on. Combat boots, the ones you rarely see him out of, one of the dark gray, now slightly worn off jeans, and a black tank top, his heavy, deep navy blue jacket already in his hand. The reason for your reaction doesn't have anything to do with his exceptionally ordinary choice of clothing, but rather with a thing you're not used to seeing on him.

The basic Ghost Face mask from Scream covering his face makes it rather difficult to focus on… really anything else. The loose black cloth falls onto his exposed shoulders, covering part of his neck, and you catch yourself staring at him and his body for probably slightly longer than necessary.

“Oh, fuck.”

You finally manage to get out a couple of words, and Frank lets go of your arm.

“Think it'll do?”

You catch his question this time but keep your eyes fixed on the mask as his voice flows from underneath the fabric.

“Shit, yeah, yeah it’ll do alright.”

You lean back on the nearest wall, looking over his figure from head to toe once again.

“Shit, Frank, where did you even find that?”

“Corner shop.”

He shrugs and takes a step in your direction after a moment. You feel your back pushing against the door frame, a familiar warm feeling growing between your legs when his frame grows bigger in your field of view. His shoulders and chest, slightly exposed by the tight tank top, the fabric clearly struggling some right above his sternum. You catch the corner of your lips pulling up in a confident smirk once you finally take in the whole picture.

The dark, empty eyes of the mask pierce through your own for a moment and you cross your legs nonchalantly before Frank finally reaches up to get rid of the cheap Halloween costume.

Quickly grabbing his wrist, you stop him before he’s able to pull the mask off of his face. His head tilts to the side slightly, his sudden confusion expressed by the pose.

“What?”

The question, slightly muffled by the dark fabric, only amplifies the smirk already present on your face. You grin happily at the Ghost Face character right in front of you, somehow feeling like he already knows the answer to his question.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re into that.”

Shaking his head, he tries again but you interrupt the action one more time.

“Oh boohoo, and what if I was?”

You tease. Your impatient hands linger over his body, fingers rubbing over the fabric of both his shirt and jeans. Hooking your hand over the waistband of the jeans, you pull yourself up, pushing off of the wall and leaning forward towards him, rubbing your leg up his own slowly. The fabric of the dress slides off of you slightly, exposing a decent amount of skin. Guiding Frank's hand to the back of your body, you arch your back slightly, pushing your ass into his palm, humming satisfied once you feel his tight grip through the dress. Frank's chest expands with a loud sigh, the space between your bodies closing almost completely now. He watches you carefully; every move, every tease, every little movement you plan out carefully, seemingly only to get a desired reaction out of him.

“What if I was, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your purr, biting down on your lower lip, your hand now pressed against his chest as you gently drag your nails over the fabric. Frank grunts, the harsher touch clearly getting to him now, and you fight back some smart ass comment your brain so kindly decided to equip you with. Instead, you drop your hand to your thigh under the slit at the side of the skirt. Pulling the fabric back, you let a glimpse of the bright red underwear peek from underneath the costume. Frank finally breaks once you glare up at him suggestively.

“Mmmmm, fuck.”

He groans from behind the mask, gripping your ass firmly before pulling you onto himself, your leg hooked loosely behind his. Slipping his hand under the fabric of the dress, he digs his fingers into your flesh and you part your lips, letting out a satisfied moan in return.

“‘M not fucking you with the mask on, kid.”

Way to kill the mood. You think, but bite your tongue just in time, not willing to give up on the idea just yet. You can't help it. To be completely honest, it feels like his fault. You didn’t make him look this good in the costume, well, part of it, you never anticipated he’d pick out this exact one either. The fact that it was able to get these reactions from you and your body? Yeah, seems like you’re innocent. Gliding your hand between his legs, you drag your nails over the bulge before spreading your fingers apart, cupping the whole of it in your palm.

Frank grunts and the previously present smirk makes its way back onto your face, you don’t even try to act innocent anymore.

Listening to his now heavier breathing, despite his not so thrilled demeanor, his heart picks up the pace slightly, the blood rushing down between his legs.

A faint twitch under the jean fabric corresponding with his fingers digging deeper into your thigh and you know he's focused now. He's listening.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

You push the weight of your body against his groin, and his hand finds its way up to your hair. Fingers tangle into your hair before he tugs on it firmly. Your head tilts up, and the Ghost Face mask finally comes off once you cannot delay the inevitable any longer.

He leans in closer, his warm breath brushes over your lips, and you fight back the cocky smirk, not entirely sure which one of you wanted to feel the other more at this moment.

His stern expression only strengthens once you reach your hand behind him. Your fingers brush over his ass and you watch how his jaw tightens, his eyes closing.

“Oh, there he is.”

You tease, and he almost snaps this time, inhaling deeply through his nose in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“You try that shit one more time-”

He starts. Leaning closer to your ear, his lips brushing over your neck.

“And we're gonna have a big problem, kid.”

“Oh.”

You whisper, grinding into his thigh slowly.

“Oh, are we? We gonna have a problem, Mister Ghost Face?”

Your lips almost brush over his now. Frank opens his mouth to talk back, ready to have you bent over and waiting for him, ready to make both of you feel good or, most importantly, ready to have you apologize for the whole god-damn mask thing.

You breathe out a quiet laugh at the frustrated expression on his face once the sound of your phone successfully distracts you from his attempts to intimidate you.

With his hand still under your dress, the other in your hair, his leg between yours and his body leaning down over you, you answer the phone. Speaking as if it was the most casual situation possible.

“Yeah? Oh, yeah, we're on our way, we'll be there in a bit. Yeah.”

Frank watches, flabbergasted, as you make up a little story about why the two haven't joined the rest yet. You smack his shoulder a couple of times, pushing away from him and taking a few steps into the direction of the front door.

“What?”

You ask once the phone call is over.

“You're the one who said it's not happening.”

***

You arrive at the party a good while after it began. The house feels pretty crowded, the music is way louder than necessary, and you're pretty certain you're able to pick up the smell of both alcohol and cigarettes from the other side of the street. It honestly feels like one of those weekend college parties that used to always leave you with a two day long hangover a couple of years back. You shiver from a gust of the cold night wind and look over at your boyfriend while pulling the jacket close around your body. Frank looks unimpressed with that really significant frown on his face, not looking forward to spending the rest of the night in a small, crowded place with a bunch of people he didn't want to have to deal with.

“Oh, you’ll be fineee.”

Your oh so encouraging words earn you a stern look from him before he shakes his head with a deep sigh.

“Just go.”

You laugh and with his hand resting against your lower back, he pushes you towards the door, slipping on the movie accurate mask with a look of disapproval as you climb up the steps together.

“I’m throwing this thing out tomorrow.”

The muffled sound of his voice humors you, but you bite your tongue.

“Whatever you say, Frankie.”

***

This wasn’t Frank's idea, of course it wasn’t. He agreed to go to the party knowing how much you’d enjoy yourself but that was the only reason. The costumes weren’t even in the picture when you first asked him to join you, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to run around to different stores frantically trying to assemble a Halloween outfit. The mask was the first thing he saw after stepping into that corner store earlier in the day. He didn’t pay it much thought earlier, but now? After you made it blatantly obvious how much you enjoyed the whole thing, well… he struggled to get through one conversation without his thoughts slipping back to what happened before you two left your place.

You weren’t any better. Even when you split to catch up with different groups of friends after you stepped into the house, you found yourself constantly scanning the room in search of either his face, the mask, or his back. Catching his glance from across the room, you smile, raising the bottle of beer in your hand up. He does the same, but the gentle smile on his lips wears off the second you gesture for him to pull the mask back down. Frank rolls his eyes, shaking his head, before continuing his conversation with some guy you managed to interrupt.

You could try to focus on other things, on the drinks, the music, the stories shared between your friends. You could…but you can’t. There’s no use in trying when your eyes keep searching for Frank every other moment and your mind keeps slipping into places you’d rather not discuss in a room full of people.

With that in mind, you make it your mission to tease Frank through the evening and really see how hard you can make this get to him.

It starts slow: some gentle touches as you pass him by here and there, pushing your fingers through the hair on the back of his head as you two try to hold a conversation with another person, sitting in his lap when some of the people move to sit outside, and most importantly encouraging him to keep the mask on. It’s a costume party, after all.

He catches on when you two are in the kitchen and you obnoxiously brush your ass against his cock while squeezing past him to grab another beer from the fridge.

He grunts, his fingers quickly wrapping around your arm, and he glares into your eyes, silently warning you, possibly hoping it would somehow get you to behave. It doesn’t. You shoot him a quick smirk, waving at one of your friends wearing an angel costume when she walks into the kitchen.

“We’re doing a group photo in the living room!”

She announces excitedly, and you grin, immediately matching her energy.

“Are we showing our costumes off?”

Frank's fingers loosen the grip around you, and you step away from him without hesitation, taking your friend's hand while she answers your question.

“Yeah! We're trying to get everyone in!”

“Oh, fun!”

Walking by her side, you step out of the kitchen, turning back for just a moment.

“You heard that, Frankie? Costumes!!”

***

Back in the living room, you all gather together to attempt the impossible task of fitting every single person at the party into one photo together. Frank joins everyone a bit after you, walking in your direction as you all begin to take your somewhat assigned places.

“Hi.”

You start innocently, standing on your toes, to press a quick kiss to the side of his face. Frank nods in response, cautious of your tricks. Standing behind you to make you more visible in the photo, he wraps his arm around your chest, and you quickly grab onto his forearm. Glancing back over your shoulder, you quickly point out the obvious.

“You gotta put the mask on.”

“Mind your business, yeah?”

He murmurs, and you breathe out a quiet laugh, not looking away even for a second while he pulls the dark fabric and white mask over his face. You take a deep breath in, and the corner of your lips pull up in a satisfied smirk.

“Frankie-“

You start, the gentle heat between your legs returning since he put the mask on for the first time, now more prominent as he stares down at you once again.

“Leave it.”

He orders in a harsh whisper and with his hand on the back of your neck, he makes you face the camera. Your body takes over your brain and when everyone poses for the photo and his hand slides to your lower back, you push your ass out and press it against his bulge. His grunt, muffled by the mask and the constant noise of the party, slips from under the mask and his hands find your hips faster than you realize it was happening. His fingers dig into your thighs, so hard you know it'll leave bruises. He holds you still, knowing god-damn well if he lets go you'll repeat exactly what you just did.

There's a flash of the phone, and once the photo is taken he lets go of your body immediately. You make up your mind, deciding to risk it. Pushing past a few groups of people that begin to form around the living room, you excuse yourself, glancing back at Frank to make sure he's watching before you disappear behind the corner. You make your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't lock it. You know he won't let that whole thing slip. No more than five minutes pass before he decides to join you.

“Took you long enough.”

You point out and push yourself off the edge of the bathtub, standing up before taking a couple steps in his direction. Frank shuts the door closed and turns back to face you.

“Oh, you wanted me to just walk after you, huh? Make it real obvious?”

He takes a step closer to you, his chest almost rubbing against yours when he looks down.

“No one would give a shit, Frank, everyone's drunk. We could fuck with the door wide open and they wouldn't notice.”

“Stop.”

His voice harsh with the warning.

“Why?”

You push without hesitation or any intention of stopping.

“That get you too much, huh? Bet you'd like that, Frankie, hmm?”

Frank's body tenses up at your attempt to tease him. He stands up straighter, taller, and his shoulders stiffen, his chest rising when he breathes heavily under the mask. His hand balls up into a tight fist as he pushes back the frustration, trying not to hand you exactly what you want from him out on a plate.

“You just don't ever shut up, do you?”

You breathe out a quiet laugh, shaking your head slowly before you stand up on your tiptoes. Staying at eye level with the mask now, you squint, trying to see through the sheer fabric in the eyeholes.

“Oh I do. I can shut up but you don't like that, do you?”

You whisper. The muscles in his neck tensing when his jaw tightens and he shakes his head slowly.

“Yeah, okay, how ‘bout you try for once. Might do you some good.”

“Yeah?”

You whisper again, your hand now rubbing over the center of his chest, feeling the heat under his shirt.

“Make me.”

The words slip past the big smirk on your face and you decide now is the time. Sliding your hand down his body, you brush over the bulge in his jeans. Not giving him time to react, you grip his cock tightly through the thick fabric. With that, you watch whatever was left of Frank's composure crumble away.

There's a moment of silence where his fingers wrap around your wrist. His grip is tight and he holds it in place. You glance down, watching his hand for a moment, before squeezing him once again.

“F-”

He grunts, yanking your hand away with so much force you couldn't possibly even try to fight it back.

“That's it.”

Immediately, you feel his body pushing into yours once he shoves you back against the bathroom counter. Your lips part but you keep the moan back, wrapping your arms around his neck and biting into his exposed shoulder once you feel the porcelain digging into your lower body.

Breathing heavier under the plastic mask, he reaches down to the high slit on the side of your dress. His fingers push into your skin and drag up your thigh. Your breath rushes and your chest rises and falls faster now, the only indication, besides the elaborate banter and the teasing, of how much you've been thinking of this since getting to the party.

You hum loudly once his fingers brush over the hem of your underwear. Your hips push forward slightly in need of his touch once he tugs on the fabric to pull it down. You reach towards him, hands working the buckle of his belt open once the lace of your panties brushes down your calf. Frank reaches up, hand gripping the mask to finally pull it off, but you grab his wrist, stooping him once again.

There's a moment of silence when you both wait for the other to talk, the heat of your bodies radiating through the small bathroom. The pure lust for one another allows this to last only a few seconds.

“Keep it on.”

You request, knowing deep down that you can push him enough to actually have him fuck you with it on.

“Jesus fucking-”

Frank scoffs, pulling the mask off and looking away from you. He shakes his head, disapproving of whatever the hell you've been trying to get him involved in since the night started. He turns back to face you, his eyebrows pulled together, face in a frustrated frown.

“Seriously, this shit again?”

You roll your eyes with a frustrated sigh, hand on his chest as you push against his body, creating some distance between both of you.

“Could you just do one fucking thing without bitching about it so much? Like, is that too hard or?”

You push one more time, both the tone of your voice and the choice of words a lot harsher than before. You keep your gaze on his eyes, confidently staring him down after your annoyed statement, not letting go of this whole thing, not now, not with knowing how close you were.

Frank stands tall in front of you, jaw tight, teeth grinding against each other, and his chest pushes out with the breath he's been holding in his lungs. His eye twitches slightly before he looks off to the side. The bridge of his nose scrunches up when he inhales quickly, nodding once he finally turns back to face you again.

“Alright.”

He slowly pulls the mask back on.

“Your fucking call, sweetheart.”

Before there's time to react, he grabs your arm and shoves you against the sink, turning your body around in one swift motion, bending you over the counter and wrapping his fingers around your upper thigh.

“Your fucking call.”

His words travel down your body and between your legs, the excitement of getting what you wanted, followed by the thrill of the entire situation. The warmth between your legs grows once Frank pulls your ass back, kicking your legs open with his foot. You glance up, focusing on his reflection in the mirror in front of you.

The man towers over you, his shoulders broad and heavy, his chest in the dark tank top, his arm flexing when he holds your lower back down against the wood. The mask, fuck, the mask exposing the tense muscles in his neck, the whole sight taking over your senses, your mind and body.

His heavy hand rubs over your back, up and down a couple of times, before he pushes his palm under the fabric of your dress. Bunching it up, he pulls it over your ass and you can't help but push it out some more in search of his touch.

There's a loud scoff, and you see him shaking his head in the mirror.

“You know, you talk a lot of shit for how wet you are right now, sweetheart.”

He mocks you, pulling the black fabric up before pushing his fingers between your legs.

You whine out loud, closing your legs at the sudden touch but pull them apart again almost instantly.

“Yeah, s’ what I thought. You got a big mouth for-”

“Oh, shut up.”

You cut into his words and feel his fingers on the back of your neck. The grip tightens and he pulls you up, back into an upright position, your body now pressed against his chest. The reflection in the mirror makes your mouth part, but you bite into your lower lip, fighting back another moan. His figure looms over you, the mask ways up above your shoulder, his hand moving to the front of your neck. You feel yourself react to the sight in front of you, to the feeling of his fingers wrapping tighter around your neck, the warmth of his body so close behind you.

“What, you think I'm gonna say make me? Hmm?"

Pushing you back down on the counter, Frank steps closer to your body, his clearly hard cock pressing against your ass.

“Nah, that's your part. I don't do that shit.”

Taking your chance, you perk your ass up some, brushing over the warm spot between his legs. Frank grunts, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching down, pushing his pants open and then down slightly, pulling himself out of the black boxers.

Unable to win with your body this time, you slip up, letting out a moan once his cock springs out from under the dark fabric, stretched out over the large bulge up until this point.

There's a low chuckle from under the Ghost Face mask.

“That shit really gets you that bad?”

One of Frank's hands digs into your thigh, holding you close, the other wrapped tightly around his length.

You nod, making sure he catches the still confident expression on your face in the bathroom mirror.

“Oh, you've got no idea.”

You tease again and Frank moves his hand up to your shoulder blades. Pushing your body down against the counter, he clears his throat.

“Think I got some.”

He lines himself up, getting a few pumps in over his length before spreading you open with his free hand. He pushes inside slower than you'd have liked, pausing after the tip the second he feels how truly ready you are.

“You get off on these things, huh?”

He continues the questing, beginning to thrust into you, and you feel your body stretching to fit him in with every push. Your lips part as your mouth falls open before you bite into your lip, trying to muffle the sounds you're sure would otherwise fill the space of the small bathroom. You try to keep your head up, focusing on Frank's reflection. His body takes up most of your view. You focus on the mask, the low grunts coming from behind it, the feeling of his cock dragging inside of you, out of you and then pushing right back inside, and the feeling of him stretching you out that never goes away entirely.

“You want it fucking scary? Hmm? That'll do it for you?”

He keeps up the teasing, quick to point out every single reaction your body presents him with, and you finally decide to bite back.

You reach behind your back, hand on the front of his hip, tapping your palm against his body to get his attention. Pausing his movements for a moment, Frank watches your face in the mirror, giving you space to talk.

“Yeah, you got me.”

You grunt, cursing under your breath, once he decides to move his palm between your legs.

“You got me but-”

“Gotta speak up, sweetheart.”

He thinks he has you now.

“The mask isn't scary, It's just hot. You should try harder to reeeally get me."

The feeling of his fingers rubbing over your clit disappears immediately after you finish the sentence. He starts up again from behind, and you feel yourself clench around his cock once he moves inside you. You hum loudly, and Frank wraps his big hands around the sides of your body. Panting loudly with his cock still inside you, he tries to focus on your words, knowing, and being almost completely sure, of what you were asking for.

“You know what would help?”

You purr quietly, watching him in the mirror. Your confidence flows back to you once you notice him slightly stunted. The mask moves in the reflection, his eyes focus on your face from underneath the fabric, and you know he's now thinking about it too.

“Yeeeaah, I know you have it, Frankie.”

His grip on you tightens with your words.

“You don't leave the house without it. ‘Just in case’? Your words.”

It takes a moment, but after that moment he reaches behind his body without a word. There's hesitation and he pauses. The bathroom falls quiet and the only sound between your panting is the muffled noise of the party outside the bathroom door.

Slowly, Frank pulls out his black, military grade knife you've seen on him so many times before. The one he always insists on carrying with him, the one you knew he didn't leave at the house tonight.

“Ohhh that's it, Frankie, look at that.”

You whisper in a condescending tone, bumping your odds of actually getting hurt up just a bit higher. He doesn't say a word, but the knuckles of his hand turning white with the strength of the grip speak volumes.

“This what you fucking want?”

He asks, pushing his hand into your hair before tugging to pull your head up. He pushes the blade harder against your skin. The sting of the sharp edge gliding over the inside of your thigh makes you push your hips back again. Once you make sure his eyes focus on your reflection, you smirk, bigger than before, and bite into your lower lip with a quiet whine. With a grunt, Frank holds you down in place, not allowing you to move further back on him,

“You're fucking sick, you know that?”

He points out, and you feel the win in your bones. Making yourself clench around him, you murmur quietly in the most innocent voice.

“Oh yeah, but you like it, Frankie.”

He breaks. His cock twitches inside you and he shoves your chest into the bathroom counter. Thrusting inside you, he follows his every move with a grunt. You grip onto the edge of the sink, now letting the sweet sounds of pleasure slip past your lips with no restrictions. Your breath hitches, the pounding in your head rushes once Frank leans over your body. With his chest pressed against your back, he presses the knife back into the inside of your thigh. You instinctively spread your legs open a bit more as he mumbles something about the knife again. The edge of the blade nicks your skin with the next thrust and you groan at the feeling. Rolling your eyes back, you let your head fall forward, fully aware of the fact Frank just felt how good that felt for you.

“God d-“

He starts in his raspy voice. His big hand holds your lower back in place once he pulls back, the drag of his cock slipping out of your body makes you curl your toes.

Lifting your head back up, you watch him in the mirror, seeing him kneel behind you quickly. You glance back at him confused, not sure of what to expect next.

You gasp, louder than you’ve liked it, but you can’t help it, it’s not your fault. You’d be lying if you said you were expecting him to do his. Kneeling on one knee, Frank pulls you closer by your thighs before pulling the mask up and he presses his tongue flat against the cut. It stings and you jump forward but he pulls you back to him before dropping his right hand to his cock, the knife still in his other hand while he strokes over his length a couple of times.

“So your cock’s fucking throbbing and I’m the sick one?”

You throw the question into the air and it’s like a slap across his face. He pauses, immediately standing up to shove you back down against the wood.

“You gonna act like you don’t like it?”

He spits out, not even expecting an answer, as he lines himself up with your entrance again. Adjusting his grip for a moment, he pulls you back on him instead of thrusting forward, and you struggle to regain balance for a moment as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you.

Out of your control at this point, your thighs press against each other, squeezing him tighter than before. He bends in half, grunting what seems like louder than the actual music playing outside the bathroom. You part your lips ready to deliver another smart ass comment but the force of his hips pushing against your ass, his dick hitting that stop deep inside right under your stomach? It knocks the wind out of you and turns your words into one loud moan.

“Fuck.”

You grunt, feeling your body dancing on the edge now. You prop yourself up, watching his body flex in the mirror as he fills you up, what feels like better than anyone has before.

You move on top of the counter, move with his body when he slips his hands between your bodies to finally push you over the edge. Making him drop the knife, you grab onto that hand and bring it up to cover your mouth with his big palm, muffling the sounds of your pleasured body as he works it even deeper inside you.

“Just needed it to hurt a bit, huh?”

Frank teases, pointing out how your body gives away how close you are now, how you’re unable to keep up the bratty demeanor anymore.

“The knife got you this close?”

You whine quietly through his fingers when he holds your back against his chest. His voice turns slightly softer when he fully takes in the state of you.

With your body shaking, your chest moving faster than he’s ever seen it before, your eyes watering and your hands clinging onto his arm, you let him make the call.

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart? Hmm?”

You grunt, frustrated with the slightly condescending tone, but still nodding your head quickly.

“Attagirl, you calmed down a bit?”

And another nod, his fingers roughing over your clit, his cock twitching deep inside you.

“Yeah, that’s it, c’mon. C’mon you got it.”

He mumbles quietly, helping you lean over the counter one last time. His hands rest on your sides and as he pushes inside you again, you whine. Then again you cry out, pushing your legs together. He only manages half a thrust after pushing his fingers hard against your clit, rubbing over the most sensitive spot. You feel your body tensing up with both pain and pleasure as you reach back to hold onto his arm.

“Attagirl, you got it, that’s it”

Your nails dig into his skin while he works over you, letting your body squeeze around his cock once it finally hits you. The overwhelming pleasure floods your body, and you feel the heat from the top of your head down to the very tips of your toes. Winning out his name, you make it pretty obvious he managed it once again. With your muscles tense around him, Frank grunts loudly, pushing into you one more time before he follows with his own climax.

“Fuuuuuuuck-“

He groans, his cock aching for release once he finally reaches it. He gives a few final thrusts when he fills you up before taking a step back to pull his cock out.

Taking a deep breath in, he reaches up, pulling the mask off of his face while watching you attempt to collect yourself.

You try to catch your breath, pushing yourself up before you feel Frank's hand on your arm. He helps you up, turning you around to have you face him now and you notice his loud breathing slowly beginning to mirror your own.

You lean forward and so does he, both of you taking a moment to calm down. Your forehead rests against his as you close your eyes and attempt to steady your breathing.

“Shit.”

You glance down quickly, feeling his cum drip down the side of your leg. Frank's eyes follow, the mask tilts down when he watches the drop slide down over your skin. His hands move to your waist, and he helps you up onto the counter with a grunt. You sit right at the edge, getting comfortable and spreading your legs apart while he slowly gets on his knees right in front of you. You hold up the mask, resting it on top of his head, focusing on his face. You smile at the red hues in his skin.

“Oh, Frankie, I almost forgot how pretty you look.”

You tease and he follows up with a scoff.

“Yeah okay, c'mere.”

He pulls you forward, slightly closer to him, before helping you pull the dress up one more time. His warm breath fans your skin for a moment before he licks over his lips. They press against your skin now, right above the knee. Another kiss follows but higher up your leg and then once more. You push your legs apart more to make it easier for him.

“Attagirl.”

He mumbles against your skin, his hand rubbing over your calf softly while he works his lips over your skin for another moment.

“See? You can be nice sometimes.”

He whispers, and you hum impatiently, pushing your fingers through his exposed hair before tugging at them slightly. He scoffs, and you feel the quick breath on your center.

The second his tongue brushes over your folds, you shut your eyes completely. Still sensitive from the previous orgasm, you let your body lead this time and your head falls back, resting against the mirror while Frank takes care of you.

You moan out his name, not even attempting to fight it back, and he picks up the pace. The warm and wet sensation quickly works you up more than you're actually willing to admit. Relaxing into the feeling, you push your legs open further and Frank chuckles against your body. Your core rumbles with the sound and your thighs quickly press together, closing around his head. He groans, tongue slipping inside you while the pressure around his face tightens. Tilting his head up, he nudges the tip of his nose against your clit and your hips buck forward, a motion accompanied by another loud moan of his name.

You cover your mouth, but only for a second, failing to keep the sounds in once he wraps his lips around your most sensitive spot. Sucking your clit into his mouth, Frank successfully pushes you into an impatient state where you know if he won't get you to finish soon, you'll do it without his help. Your back arches and you mumble his name in an attempt to get his attention.

“Frank.”

You start and your body twitches. Feeling another long stroke of his tongue.

“Mhhh.”

He hums deep into you. Reaching for your legs, he throws them both over his shoulders and digs his fingers into your ass, quickly tugging you closer to him.

“Frank-”

Your breath hitches and you gasp quietly, whining his name out one more time. You feel yourself getting closer, the sounds of the party seem so distant now you almost forget where you are. Almost, because as you feel yourself getting close to your second climax, when his touch becomes so much more intense, when your legs tremble with the feeling, right at that very moment you realize. You never locked the door.

Hearing the sound of the doorknob turning, you press your foot against Frank's shoulder in a desperate attempt to push him away, but before you can do it, with his head still between your legs, Frank leans to the side quickly. With a loud grunt, he shoves the door closed with his shoulder without pulling away from you. He reaches up blindly, feeling the door for the lock, before you reach your hand over his head and finish for him.

He hums into your body, satisfied, and you feel yourself relaxing back into the feeling.

“Shit, Frankie...”

You whisper, pushing your hips forward against his face slightly. There’s a low, raspy chuckle that leaves his chest and you close your eyes, titling your head back to rest it against the mirror while he works on the second round.

You come shortly after and with your body so severely overstimulated, the soft, warm sensation of his tongue works better than he’d expect. He makes sure to take a mental note of it as he looks up from between your legs, watching when the second wave finally pushes you over the edge.

You rest, leaning against the mirror as he stands up in front of you, hand rubbing over your legs gently, his eyes fixed on yours.

“You okay?”

He asks. His soft, quiet question contrasts with whatever the hell the two of you just did in the small space of the bathroom. You lift your hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking and he chuckles quietly.

“Fair.”

He mumbles before turning his attention to his reflection. You watch as he cleans himself up a bit, washing the wet shine off his face and drying himself with the hem of his shirt.

Reaching over to the other side of the counter, he leans down, grabbing his knife off the floor and putting it away before handing the plastic mask over to you.

“Imagine if I didn't go out and pick this shit up.”

You snort, exhausted, enjoying how he literally managed to fuck the frustration out of himself.

“I don’t wanna think about that.”

You whisper, and he scoffs loudly, looking down and shaking his head before glancing back up at you.

“Yeah I bet.”

He helps you collect yourself, staying close by when you clean yourself up and straighten the fabric of your dress before handing you the previously abandoned underwear as you both get ready to leave the bathroom.

He offers you his hand, helping you off of the counter, and you lean on him while stepping down from it.

“Can you walk?”

He asks, and you look up at him, unimpressed with the not-so-subtle tease.

“Shut up.”

You mumble, hoping and praying your legs wouldn't just give out on you and give him something else to tease you about.

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

He grabs the mask and pulls it back on his face, then turns to you.

“Can you walk?”

He repeats the question, clearly enjoying this more than he should.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I saw how hard you got.”

“Okay, that’s it. Out.”

He gestures to the door, pulling it open to let you out of the room. You hold onto his hand, letting him lead. You ditch your shoes and he carries them for you as you both make your way towards the front door, glancing back in the direction of the party before turning back to face each other again.

“You wanna get the hell out of here?”

“Yeah.”

You nod.

“We gotta get all the use out of that mask before you toss it tomorrow.”

You point out, pulling the door open, and hear his laugh over your shoulder.

“You don’t think maybe you’ve had enough now?”

His voice cuts through the night, and you turn around with a playful smirk, feeling the cold, crispy autumn air fill your lungs.

“No, no, I don’t think so. Besides...”

You slowly pull the mask onto your face staring him down.

“I don’t think you’ve had enough either.”

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank catsle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank catsle x you #marvel punisher #frank catsle smut #jon bernthal #jon bernthal character #frank catsle fan fiction #jon bernthal fanfiction

484 notes · View notes

slut4sugu · 9 months

Text

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐋 𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐇 — RODIRICK HEFFLEY X FEM!BLACK READER

✰ including: intimidating but sweet reader, simp ass rodrick, mutual pining, rodrick suddenly not being as much as a usual ass to Greg (because you’re around lol) shy reader, golden retriever Rodrick fr, ✰ Summary: What it’s like crushing/ being crushed on by rodrick heffley ✰ authors note: Bro I js started thinking about how big of a crush I had on rodrick heffley sooo ima do sum random hcs for him <3

def stares at you for a good 3 minutes the first time he saw you. Your whole dark streetwear/cyberpunk/y2k aesthetic was really doing it for him

though trust and believe he was gonna act like he didn’t know his left from his right when he was talking to you, your sweet smile didn’t help much either since it made his heart race like 80mph

once he notices how friendly and sweet you are he loosens up a bit

Introduces you to what music he listens to, and almost falls for you when he sees how much you like it.

Def would be into: girls with doe eyes/ droopy eyes, girls who smell like candy, girls who wear silver rings, sleepy heads, short girls, ‘mommy’ type girls, girls who wear band tees/ graphic tees/baggy clothes

When you first came over to his house to work on a project together his parents and brother were surprised to see he brought such a pretty girl home, though at first they all thought you were apart of his band.

Rodrick saw the hearts starting to form in Greg’s eyes when he saw your smile but he shut his brother down real quick. Flipping him off when your back was turned

He hardly got any work done because all he could focus on was your pretty voice and your probably soft hands, you noticed his gaze on you but didn’t say anything as you smiled to yourself before asking if he understood anything/ if he needed help.

You let out a fit of giggles before saying, “Rodrick you don’t have to act or anything around me yknow, just be yourself.”

You thought it was almost cute how hard he tried to be cool when you asked about things he liked/ did in his spare time/etc.

One time Rodrick had left you in his room to go deal with greg ‘messing with his stuff.’ leaving his phone behind, which had lit up with a text from one of his band members “still talking to that angel you were blabbering about earlier?’ (You never mentioned this to him and pretended you didn’t see the text, though it was hard to not smile so wide and tackle Rodrick into a bear hug when he came back.)

Definitely makes notes of things you like, don’t like, what makes you annoyed, things like that.

Always tries to be the first person to compliment you hair & like your story on insta

The way rodrick’s personally switches up when he sees you is almost cartoonish, he’ll be cursing his brother out one minute before following you around like a lost puppy and asking if you need anything the next.

Damn near blushes every time you initiate any type of physical contact with him and you think it’s the cutest thing, sometimes you tease him by getting close or resting your head on his shoulder when you feel even the little bit tired. (Though you know good n well that your heart is racing too.)

Accidentally tells you that he likes you from a butt dial ( rodrick froze when he heard your sweet voice say that you felt the same.)

Back to masterlist

#🌸. 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐊𝐀𝐌 #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley x Black!reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick x y/n #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley x fem!reader #rodrick heffley x reader

964 notes · View notes

murdrdocs · 1 year

Note

hi! sooo I have this idea for dave lizewski

imagine you coming to his house after school and he goes to grab a snack or something for you both and he comes back to find you in his kick-ass suit

(the reader could know or not, it’s up to you!) and maybe it leads into smut or fluff, maybe even a tad bud of angst if the reader didn’t know before !

tysmmm♥️

this is so cute to me :( also reader wears a bra hope that's cool also also this is straight porn at the end (i mean that like reader is very pornstar)

he left to grab an arizona tea. that's it. you wanted an arizona tea and dave cheerfully told you that his dad had recently bought some, so he left to grab you one and he promised he would be back quick.

he was gone for 6 minutes tops, delayed by the hot pocket he'd immediately started craving once he was in the kitchen. but six minutes is long enough for you to meddle, as it turns out.

because whenever dave pushes open the half-closed bedroom door with his shoulder, he turns around and he's met with the green and yellow suit, on a body that it definitely wasn't meant for.

"what the–" his curse is cut off whenever you turn to face him and he expects you to be upset, concerned maybe, but you're beaming.

"you have a kickass suit? that's so cool, davie!"

he's stunned, staring at you and doing nothing but blinking. you start to question if he's even breathing, but then he smiles.

"uh, yeah. i'm a huge fan."

you go into a whole spiel, talking about how you thought he was impartial to the new superhero that's recently inspired comics. all the while he sits on his bed, slowly chewing a bite of the pepperoni hot pocket while he watches you with wide eyes, silently begging for the conversation to change.

it seems that you're almost done, but you walk to the mirror, giving yourself a once over, and say one last thing.

"you know what i think about sometimes? the testimony from those thieves who claimed they stabbed kick-ass that one day. i mean, it was like a month before he got started so like we don't really even know if it was him or if it was true but if it was true that would..."

you've trailed off, words fizzing out into the air until there's nothing that follows. dave doesn't know why until you turn around, holding up the patch of fabric that he had to sew back together. the patch that used to be split in half from where he got stabbed.

"dave?" is all you say, your voice expectant, yet it trembles just a little.

"baby..."

"dave." it's firmer this time and he tries to meet your eyes, but you're looking at his torso, where the knife pierced through his skin months ago. you look back down at the suit, then back at where you know the scar to be, and then into dave's eyes.

"what the fuck, dave!"

he stands, placing the hot pocket on the plate behind him, approaching you with crumb coated fingers and sincere eyes.

"baby, please, listen to me, okay?" you have no choice but to do what he says, no coherent sentences coming to mind.

he gives you the speech about wanting to protect you, going about his goal by depriving you of information of who he actually was. you want to ignore the excuse, you want to be angry with him, but his big blue eyes are so soft and he looks so small and almost afraid of the decision you'll make.

he finishes, his admission of love for you just leaving his pretty lips, the same set of lips that you push yours against. instantly, his hands that are always scarred for reasons you now understand, come to your hips, pulling you flush against his roughly. he kisses you hungrily, his head tilting, lips moving against yours borderline sloppily. you welcome it, allowing the clash of teeth and the mess of saliva to exist as you busy your hands in his hair. meanwhile, dave busies his hands with pulling the hidden zipper down, letting the suit fall off your body and to the floor.

he lets you push him back towards the bed, narrowly avoiding the hot pocket that you hurriedly put on the bedside table as dave lays there, tapping his fingers against his thighs as he waits for you to straddle him.

"you know if you would've told me sooner," you take your place above dave, sitting low on his torso, scooting back until you've hovering above his cock. "i would've let you in on all my kick-ass fantasies." his lips part, the corner lifting into a small smirk.

he tries to play it cool, tilting his head, letting his eyebrows lift curiously. but his voice waver when he speaks, giving his true feelings away. "fantasies?" you nod eagerly, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra which you let fall to sit on dave's torso. his eyes flick down to the set, and he doesn't even attempt to meet your eye again.

"i've thought about him coming into my room late at night," you drag your core along dave's hardened dick, shamelessly letting your head fall back with the feeling. "taking me in any way he wanted." you do it again, and again, moans increasing in volume each time. dave can barely speak below you. you can almost hear his breaths at this point, loud and slightly labored.

"r ... really?" he finally says.

you recenter your head and nod, biting down on your lip while you continue your actions. "yeah. is that something you'd like to do to me, davie?"

he nods, finally letting his hands lift and find your hips. they trail up your torso, sliding around to cup your tits. "yeah."

"yeah?" another nod from him. "then why don't you do it? why don't you take me?" that's all it takes for dave to grip your hips and flip you over. he grinds his dick into you as he kisses along your neck, collarbones, chest. your panties are pulled down from your legs with a force that scratches the fabric against your skin, and then he's slipping two fingers into you, swallowing your moans with his lips on yours. you're trying to pull his shirt over his head, but he's so entranced with marking your skin up and pumping his fingers within you that it takes him a few moments to even process what you're trying to do.

his shirt is thrown over his head, and his pants and boxers are tugged down and dave is fully sheathed inside of you quicker than you can really process. the way he fucks you is intense, different from any of the times before (even that quickie you had in the back of your moms car that day). he's fucking you as if he's desperately chasing his high, doing whatever he wanted to you, just like you'd asked. but dave is still dave, even though he's able to bare his alter-ego to you, and your dave gets off when you get off. so he's aiming for that spot, and letting the pad of his thumb slip and slide along your clit.

it's not long until he's close, but his brows are furrowed and his hand speeds up and you can tell that he's trying to get you to cum first. you've never been one to disappoint dave, so you arch your back, push your hips further into him, alert him of your incoming orgasm, and you fall over the edge with two more thrusts from dave. he slips out of you and uses the hand that's not still on your clit to pump himself until he spills spurts of warm cum on your stomach.

it's silent, save for heavy breaths, while you both come down. dave speaks first.

"thanks ... for not being mad at me." you open your previously closed eyes to look at him.

"who says i'm not mad?" dave looks confused, and the look deepens when you grin cruelly.

"you're just gonna have to fulfill my fantasies to make it up to me."

#davesworld!#dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski #celeste writes misc

1K notes · View notes

moonhoures · 8 months

Text

Stargazing

🕷️ kinktober — day 8: choking 🕸️

pairing: changkyun (monsta x) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, kyun sucks his own fingers, choking, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, creampie, pet names: ‘babe’, ‘baby’, ‘naughty girl’ (all for reader), kyun slaps reader’s ass once

word count: ~1.8k

synopsis: you and your boyfriend discover a kink of yours 🤭

a/n: me while writing this > 🫨🫨🫨

posted: october 8, 2023

kinktober masterlist

“You really couldn’t wait until we got to the shower, huh?”

“I’ve been waiting since we left this afternoon, so no. I can’t wait any longer,” your words came out half-muffled as your lips pressed kisses to the skin of your boyfriend’s newly-exposed chest. His collarbones, neck, and pecs were getting all the love you could give them, and he couldn’t help but smile. You were so desperate for him. He loved when you got like this.

“If I knew you’d be like this, I would’ve fucked you before we left.”

You let out a soft whine that had him biting back a laugh. Changkyun had told you he had some quick errands to run which included stopping at his workplace for an hour or so. You offered to tag along, knowing you had nothing else to do for the day. But what you didn’t sign up for was being forced to go throughout your entire day watching your boyfriend saunter around in the most simple, yet hottest outfit he could wear. Tattered jeans and a white, sleeveless muscle top that showed off his sides and drooped low enough on his chest to show the top of it. He also had a black beanie that hid his fluffy hair, and to top it all off, a chain that dangled around his neck. There was nothing particularly extravagant about the look, but he looked like a model to you. And you made it very clear to him how much he was turning you on.

The knowing glances. The pointed compliments. The not-so-innocent touches. The lustful confession of how horny he was making you. He had told you in the car to prepare for when you got home, insinuating that he would take care of you during a shower, and you couldn’t wait. It all boiled down to you two making it through the front door and instantly pouncing on each other. You had managed to pull off his shirt as you made it into the bedroom, but you just couldn’t hold out anymore.

“So needy,” he smirked.

His eyes closed for a moment as your lips trailed back up his neck and to his jaw. He reached up, clutching your chin to bring your lips to his ravenously. Low, grumbling sounds echoed from his chest as he kissed you. Your waist was pulled in close to his by his other arm, and the next thing you knew your back was against the wall. The back of your head bumped lightly against the hard surface behind you as you continued to make out passionately.

Your hands plucked at his clothes, urging him to strip, or at the very least, free his cock that you needed so badly. And your mouth watered at the sight of it alone. You had seen his length countless times, but it never failed to send arousal pooling between your legs every time. The things it could do to you. The things it has done to you. You were buzzing with anticipation.

“You’ve already got me so hard,” he breathed out, catching your gaze briefly before you both watched your hand beginning to stroke him. Small moans and whimpers of your name graced your ear, making you grin. You loved when he moaned your name.

“Good.”

Your boyfriend bucked into your grip, attempting to get some more friction. His tip was starting to leak with precum just for you, and as it made a mess on your hand, you itched to have him inside of you. Fortunately, Kyun was having the same thoughts.

“Turn around for me.”

No hesitation. In seconds, you had swiveled around, facing the wall of your bedroom. You waited, rather impatiently, hips swaying back a little as if to urge him to enter you already. But all you got was his hands on your ass, rubbing the bare skin before landing one, nice slap against your right cheek.

“Kyun-“ you warned him, but got a snarky chuckle in response.

“Sorry, babe, I couldn’t resist.”

“Just fuck me, please,” you whined, “I’ve been waiting all day.”

“Really? All day?” he continued to tease you, both verbally and physically, as he pumped his cock behind you. You could feel the head of it bumping against your cheek, leaving behind a spot of wetness on your skin.

“Yes, all day,” you had a hint of aggression as you confirmed your horniness yet again, if only for the amusement of your boyfriend. A moan freefell from your parted lips and your body jolted forward slightly at the feeling of his fingers swiping up through your lips, collecting your arousal on his fingertips. He smiled to himself as he brought them up to his mouth, sucking on them.

“Just for me,” he said it, not as a question, but as a statement. He didn’t need to ask. He knew it was all for him. It was always for him. Nobody else. “Are you ready?”

“Kyun, if you don’t fuck me in the next ten seconds-“

“Alright, alright.”

He cut you off, his hands grabbing a stern hold of your hips as he thrusted into you slowly but deeply. You felt your breath escape you in one gasp and you quickly braced yourself, placing your palms against the wall in front of you before you could smash your face against it. Once he knew you were secure, he began pounding into you just how he knew you would want it. Hard. Fast. Deep. Yet, careful. He only thrusted into you as much as he knew you could handle, and he kept it just soft enough that you wouldn’t be smushed against the wall in an uncomfortable way. Even when he noticed your breasts getting squished against the hard surface, he made a point to ease you back against his chest.

“How’s that, baby? Just what you wanted?”

You nodded, fingers gripping but unable to catch anything on the smooth wall while his dick brushed the spot inside of you that you could never reach on your own.

“This what you wanted all day, huh? For me to fuck you good? You should’ve just asked.”

His breath tickled your ear, making your head tilt, but he simply nudged your head to the other side before he placed kisses along your neck. Your body continued to bounce with every push of his hips against your ass, and almost every push caused a groan or a whine or a moan of his name to expel itself from your pretty lips. He couldn’t get enough. His fingers found homes all over your body, becoming nomads that roamed the terrain of your skin. The curves of your hips. The expanse of your stomach. The valley and swells of your breasts. He cupped them, his cock twitching within your walls as he felt your hard nipples underneath his palms.

“Fuck, I love you,” was muffled into the space below your ear before he kissed it. He left more kisses along your shoulder, but paused when he felt that familiar sensation building deep inside of him. His grip on you tightened, his arms restricting you even more than before. One arm wrapped around your midriff while the other snaked closer to your chest.

“Kyun, oh my God,” you moaned as his thrusts grew deeper. He was grinding himself almost strategically, his erection hitting you exactly where you needed it. You screwed your eyes shut for a moment as the warning signs of your orgasm appeared. Your heated skin. Your tensing muscles. Your bated breath. The warmth in your tummy.

And it all came crashing over its apex when his hand slid between the valley of your breasts, past your collarbones. His fingers reached up to the column of your throat. You didn’t even have a moment to prepare yourself before he was adding pressure to it, causing a small feeling of panic to brew in your mind. It quelled itself soon enough, once you remembered that this was Changkyun. He has never hurt you, and would never hurt you. Still, he had never attempted choking you before, so there was an exhilaration you had never experienced before. You hadn’t gone even ten seconds with restricted air before he was letting up again. And by then you had already came.

“Did you like that?” his voice was deeper than before, rumbling with a newfound sense of lust. He didn’t mean to choke you. Honestly, he didn’t. As soon as he realized what he was doing, he stopped, but he also noticed that you had came—hard. Your pussy was still clenching around him like crazy when he spoke, “You naughty girl.”

“Stop,” you whined, knowing he was teasing but still feeling a small sliver of humiliation from his words.

“It’s okay. Everyone has kinks. I just didn’t think you liked getting choked out,” he reached up with the same hand that had asphyxiated you, tilting your face towards his so he could look you in the eyes. Your noses were merely an inch apart, “You did like it, didn’t you? Cause you came pretty hard.”

“Mhm,” you admitted it weakly, but you didn’t feel as shameful when he smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips that grew hungrier by the second. He had been still since you came but now he was shallowly and slowly thrusting again. The faintest of whimpers mumbled from your lips as the kiss became sloppier.

“You want more?” he grunted against your lips, getting an eager nod in response.

A low, animalistic moan from Changkyun’s lips met your whimpers as his hand rested against your neck again. This time the pads of his fingertips felt like heaven as they naturally fell into the dips below your jaw. Your skin felt like velvet under his palms. And when he added just enough pressure, you could hear your heartbeat pumping in your ears louder than ever. Little bursts of white spots sparkled among the black abyss behind your eyelids. You moaned, but no sound came out. You gasped for air, but no oxygen met your lungs. Your walls clenched around your boyfriend’s cock. He shivered as his hips stuttered, and he came inside of you, secretly loving the feeling of both of your climaxes leaking down his balls and your thighs. He lowkey loved making a mess with you. Besides, you were going to join him for round two in the shower anyways.

As he released your throat from his hold, you sucked in a gulp of air, filling your lungs with its necessities. Changkyun’s thumb soothed the space just between your collarbones while he pressed his lips lovingly along the side of your neck, “You’re so hot.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite

#monsta x smut #changkyun smut #i.m smut #monsta x i.m smut #im changkyun smut #monsta x fanfic #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #monsta x x y/n #changkyun fanfic #changkyun imagines #changkyun scenarios #changkyun x reader #changkyun x y/n #[🕷️] kinktober 23

728 notes · View notes

4everhyucks · 1 year

Text

— 6:08PM

cw. dubcon, sacrilegious themes, manipulation, loss of virginity, creampie.

it is just another sunday morning of you going to church, secretly glancing the cute boy standing at the front row while the priest reads from the gospel. it’s been a couple months since you found out that you developed a tiny crush on him despite not knowing a single thing about him, only overhearing some of his conversations with his friends on accident. that was how you got to know his name as well. you decided today will be the day to confess your love to him. you don’t really expect anything out of it when you do, just wanting to be honest with your own feelings.

when the church starts to clear out, you hurry over to him before he could leave, softly tapping on his shoulder, “mark.”

he turns around to meet your eyes, you’ve never once stood so close to him, suddenly noticing all his beautiful facial features.

“hey,” mark is giving off an awkward energy, barely noticeable, considering you both have certainly not interacted before. he adds, “do we know each other..?”

“no,” you’re quick to respond, “no we don’t, but i have something to uh tell you.”

“i’m all ears.”

you gathered up your courage and told him that you have a thing for him, you didn’t get to say much as he cut you off halfway, “so you like me?” he says, voice sounding cocky for no reason.

“yes- no- wait, i mean yeah! i do but i don’t uhm want anything from this, i’m just telling you, you know? you can forget about it, it’s not really that important.. it’s not like i wanted us to be together or anything,” you feel so tense, like every hair on your skin is standing up straight, you laugh lightly after you realise you have been rambling a whole lot. this is your first time confessing to someone, you’re not quite sure how to do it but you’re sure that you probably messed this one up.

mark didn’t give you a reply of any sort as he pulls you by your wrist into the confessional. you’re stunned by his actions, wondering why he brought you in here. you’re even more stunned when he stepped in too, tugging the curtains closed.

“what are we doing in here?” you nervously question him, standing together in such a close proximity is making you lose your mind. you can feel the warmth of his body on your cold skin.

“baby,” the word rolling off his tongue so smoothly like he’s used to calling you that. he places both his hands on your waist gently, slotting his knee in between your legs. you’ve never had someone touch you before, but it felt nice, it felt good.

“mark,” you whimper when he lifts his knee up higher until it hits your core. from the moment you opened your mouth to initiate a conversation, he knew you weren’t the type to go for parties, to go get laid and come for church to accommodate your sins. you’re actually as innocent as you look, and mark loves girls like you.

“yeah?” his replies, voice so gentle while moving your hips for you to grind on his thigh.

“feels- weird..” you mutter, fingers gripping onto his arm for balance.

“weird? how?” he asks, honestly not caring about what your response would be. before you could give him an answer, he adds, “want me to stop?”

you hastily shake your head. mark’s smirking when he sees your mouth dropping open. the sounds that leaves your lips made mark extremely aroused as he dips his head in your neck, the smell of your perfume intoxicating him, making his mind go hazy.

as if mark never noticed you every single time he showed up for church, the prettiest girl in the room, wearing the skimpiest sundresses known to humankind. he keeps finding himself jerking off to the thought about you whenever the hem of your dress flies up a little too high, giving him a whole view of your cute panty. on some days it’s baby blue, on some days it’s light pink with polka dots on it. all so innocent.

god must be on his side, for making his dream a whole fucking reality. he didn’t even need to try and here you are, handing yourself to him on a silver platter.

mark stops his movements when he feels your wetness soaking through his jeans. you are pushed up against the uncomfortable wooden prickly wall in the confessional as mark pulls your dress up, mouth salivating at the sight of your panty, white with a little pink bow on it. holy shit, you’re just so pure, way too pure for someone so dirty and corrupted like him.

“mark wait—” you softly hold his hands when he was about to touch your private part, snapping him out of his thoughts for just a moment but he’s already thinking of ways to let you let him have it his way.

“you like me right?” he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear when you nod, “this is what people do when they like someone.”

“does that mean you like me too?” you ask, gazing up at him with the most innocent looking eyes ever

mark hums, ignoring your question, “you’re so pretty, so so pretty.” and when he feels your hand leaving his, he wastes no time at all, shoving his fingers through your folds. you’re so wet, pussy dripping with arousal. you have both palms over your mouth, trying to stop the weird noises that were coming out on their own.

“does this feel weird?” he wants you to talk regardless of your hands blocking your mouth. “answer me baby.”

you slowly retreat your hands, “n-no, feels good..” accidentally letting out a moan when mark curls his fingers in you. shit you sound so angelic, and he wants to hear more.

“want me to make you feel even better?” he suggests. being the easily trusting person you are, you nod again with no hesitation. he slips his fingers out of you, placing them on your lips, “open up baby.” and you did so obediently, tasting your liquid with your tongue when he pushes his fingers through your lips.

mark unbuttons his jeans quickly, pulling his cock out of his briefs, lazily pumping it with his tip on your clit. you gag when his fingertips hit the back of your throat, tears welling up in your eyes. he retrieves his wet fingers, grabbing the bottom of your thigh, pushing it up to your chest. he glances down at your dripping soft cunt as he lines his painfully hard cock at your entrance, unable to hold out any longer.

“mark im scared,” your voice is shaking, you don’t think something that big could ever fit inside of you. you’re afraid that you might break, but mark wants to break you.

“don’t be scared baby, i promise it’ll feel real good.” already pushing the tip in, the stretch is unbearable, but you wanted to do your best, you didn’t want to disappoint him, you wanted him to feel good.

“so tight- taking me in so well,” mark huffs as he sinks his length into you all the way to the base, “see, wasn’t so bad right?” he lifts his eyes to meet yours, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. mark didn’t think it was possible for his dick to get any harder than it already was, but it did.

“fuck- try to stay quiet baby,” he immediately starts moving after rushing his words.

“ahh i-i can’t,” despite trying so hard, gasps and whines kept slipping through your lips.

mark leans in close as he hungrily plants his lips on yours, swallowing down your pretty moans while he’s sucking on your tongue, groaning whenever your walls tighten up around his cock. while one of his hands are on the back of your thighs, his other is found wrapped around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter by the second. oxygen is getting cut out of your lungs and with the way mark is pounding into you, it��s impossible for you to get a word out, much less a sentence. you can feel your knees starting to give out. you place your hands on either sides of marks’ shoulder, hoping he’ll go slower on you.

when mark parts away from your lips to let you breathe, you cough a little, “mark, i’m feeling weird again..”

“just relax,” he says, picking up his pace, he’s so close to finishing too.

with just a few more thrusts, you moan his name out loud as your body trembled, unable to control the volume of your voice. mark grunts at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him, letting out strings of curses as he came inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

“at least there’s something for me to look forward to during church sundays now,” you hear him say, feeling on cloud nine, mistaking his lust for love. never realising that mark did not once called you by your name.

#vv writes #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #mark hard hours #mark lee hard hours #nct hard hours #nct 127 hard hours #nct dream hard hours

2K notes · View notes

55sturn · 3 months

Text

✮ DOM!CHRIS WHO…/ HEADCANONS

once again inspired by @worldlxvlys bc i love anna’s content and maggie’s [@greatooglymooglyyy] attitude adjustment fic and lilah’s [@thugpugs4lrh] brat!tamer chris fic!

disclaimer: this is a bit more sexual than anything i write and it’s far from what i normally write or allude to, so please read at your own discretion. i am not your mother nor am i responsible for the content you consume.

DOM!CHRIS who does not take any attitude lightly and will not hesitate to wrap his hand in your hair, jerking your head back as he as tells you to watch your tone.

DOM!CHRIS who does not hesitate to slap your cheek, either lightly or harshly, depending on your behaviour, when you spit insults at him while he’s inside you.

DOM!CHRIS who laughs at how pathetically quick you let go for him, despite him not giving you permission.

DOM!CHRIS who will chase his own high, rutting into so roughly and so quickly, and will laugh when he leaves you a crumpled mess on the bed, sobbing after being denied permission to cum for the fourth time because you just couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

DOM!CHRIS who is obnoxiously possessive in public, who will not hesitate to wrap his hand around your throat and pull you into a messy make-out as the guy who got the wrong impression and started flirting with you, slowly backs away with shame and embarrassment written on his face.

DOM!CHRIS who will force you to talk to him without attitude, and if you refuse, he will ignore you, even as you get yourself off on his thigh like a bitch in heat. and he’ll just laugh at how pathetic you look.

DOM!CHRIS who will mock you in the smoothest voice, faux sweetness dripping from his tongue like honey, completely fooling you into thinking he’s not mad until he’s gripping your hips tightly as you’re pressed against his body and he’s calling you a slut in the meanest voice imaginable.

DOM!CHRIS who will mock your whines and moans, telling you to shut the fuck up because you begged for the way he’s treating you.

DOM!CHRIS who doesn’t care what you wear, as long as you’re prepared for a long night.

DOM!CHRIS who will not hesitate to kick some guy’s ass for getting too close and then turn around and drag you to the nearest bathroom, bending you over the counter and reminding you that you are his fucktoy, not anyone else’s.

DOM!CHRIS who is public about your relationship and laughs so darkly when he asks “what would the world think if they knew what a fuckin’ whore you are f’me?”

DOM!CHRIS who always reminds you that he loves you, in the middle of fucking your brains out, even if he’s pissed at you because he knows how easily his words can break you and make you believe that he means what he says, and forget that his words are just vocal foreplay, that they’re just dirty talk because he knows it gets you going.

DOM!CHRIS who mixes slight praise with his degradation, telling you that your body is made for him and takes him so well, just like the pathetic fucktoy you are.

DOM!CHRIS who uses your weak points against you in public, knowing exactly where to touch you to have you squirming in your seat.

DOM!CHRIS who enjoys setting you up, doing and saying things to have you begging for him, and then acting out when he denies it, which leads to him getting angry because you can’t go five minutes without his touch and attention.

DOM!CHRIS who, at the end of the day, holds you close and reminds you that despite the way he shows and holds control over your body during sex, you are your own person and that you can always say no if you need to. who reminds you that you did so good, that you are so loved by him because he knows that constant rough sex and rough dirty talk can really take a toll on you and he never wants you to believe that he sees you the way he does when he’s angry with you in bed.

DOM!CHRIS who makes sure your emotional and romantic relationship is as healthy as possible, because he knows how toxic your sexual relationship can get, and he wants to keep a healthy relationship outside of the bedroom so there’s never a lack of trust or safety in the bedroom.

taglist: @33sturniolo @worldlxvlys @sturnioloshacker @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @soursturniolo @meanttomeet @breeloveschris @thugpugs4lrh @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @vanteguccir @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshloveee @fawnchives @cindylcuwho @freshloveforthefit @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @lustfulslxt @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi @wronqness99 @sturniolossss @mattsfavwh3re @inlovewithmattstur @melanch0lybby @whatrulookingat11 @kqyslyho3 @hysteria-things [TAGLIST IS FULL!]

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader

397 notes · View notes

camilaxmartin · 2 months

Note

velvette stressing about a date with reader/getting ready

so stressed, obsessed

navigation // rules // masterlist

summary: how the getting ready for a date looks from velvette perspective

warnings: NOT PROOF READ; some cursing probably, you can count some parts as suggestive

note: i made headcanons out of this cause it fitted more for me (it just looks like headcanons it’s literally a one shot but let’s skip that) i was having a stressful night and just wanted to get it out:)

note 1.2: i love writing my princess as a mess cause as much as she loves being organised i can’t get messy velvette out of my head:) - it’s about balance yk?

requests: open!!

ღ | velvette was soo excited about the date and hear me out, so excited. of course, she was going on a lot of dates i mean look at this girl but this time it felt… different

ღ | the time you asked her out (cause we both know she wouldn’t do it if she actually liked someone and was nervous around them) she tried to play it off and it actually worked until you heard her little giggle when she thought you wouldn’t be able to hear it

ღ | the first thing she did after you’ve asked her out was literally stumble through her whole wardrobe to find something to wear that night you two were gonna meet up. she shuffled through all of her clothes and groaned in frustration as nothing was even close to being enough to what she had in mind for that night

ღ | velvette decided she was gonna try and make something to wear and the start of it was really promising, but soon after she got to like half the dress she thrown it out of her hands and groaned loudly not feeling like her skills were enough (which is fucking RARE for this girl)

ღ | she grabbed her phone and looked up some dresses online trying to find *the one* but nothing seemed right to her. she locked her phone and thrown it away on the ground, jumping on her bed and falling with her face right into her pillows. she wanted everything to be perfect and yet it felt like the whole hell was against her

ღ | soon after her mumbling to herself that everything is shit and she shouldn’t even go on this date, she fell asleep her hair getting out of control, as always when she slept without earlier preparation for it

ღ | the next morning she woke up on her own, her eyes opening slightly as she had no clue she had fallen asleep the day before. she sat up on her bed and unwilling stumbled out of it to grab her phone and check the time

ღ | her hair literally straightened out on its own when she saw the time. it was way too late for her usual routine and by now she should’ve been already in her studio preparing her show. she groaned, which was like literally the only noice she was making for the past two days, and send vox a quick message that she won’t be able to make it today so he has to think something out

ღ | she sighed as she thrown her phone away once again and laid back down starring at the ceiling, rethinking every decision she has ever made in her entire life

ღ | after about half an hour she was already in front of her wardrobe looking for something at least decent to wear for tonight. after many and i mean, many difficulties she has finally chosen a dress matching it with some high boots, a silky jacket and a small purse in the same color as that dress. she wasn’t fully proud and happy with the choice but it was the best she could do. she rolled her eyes throwing that outfit on her bed and stormed into her bathroom knowing she’s already way too behind in her daily routine

ღ | because she has fallen asleep yesterday without planning it first, she had no idea what hairstyle should she wear for tonight. i mean sure- she has thought about it a million times already but hasn’t decided on anything yet. she looked herself in the mirror her hands immediately touching her face in all the spots she wanted to change or just get fixed and sighed feeling her anxiety rising up

ღ | velvette shook her head, took out her phone putting on her favourite playlist to get ready, and undressed, getting into the shower and preparing for one of the longest showers of her life. she turned the water on, heat of it hitting her skin immediately as she sighed in pleasure, getting her favourite shampoo and razor from one of the shelves. she bubbled up her hair and rinsed it out almost immediately putting on some conditioner and making sure not to wet her hair for a while. she then get to washing and dolling up all of her body. she quickly shaved her legs, armpits and decided to shave between her legs as well i mean- you never know what can happen right? especially if you’re in hell

ღ | after removing all of that hair from her body, she rinsed herself off and put on body scrub, scrubbing all of her dead skin off and doing it a bit too aggressively for her liking but what you’re not doing for beauty right? she rinsed off the body scrub as well and finally cleaned her whole body with rose soap getting herself all nice and clean. then she rinsed the conditioner from her hair and washed it with shampoo one again

ღ | finally, she stopped the water and get out of the shower shaking her head before getting out. she grabbed her favourite towel and wrapped it around herself, grabbing a special towel for her hair and wrapping it up as well. she looked herself in the mirror once again and smiled, handing for a body cream to get herself even more soft than she already has been

ღ | after doing so, she took out her face cosmetics and washed her face, doing a face mask in the spare time and then putting on milion of her creams and serums to made sure she was perfect for tonight

ღ | she took a deep breath as she looked at the time and realised she had to fasten up the whole process a bit. she unwrapped her hair from the towel and thrown it on the glass of her shower to dry, as she shook her head once again to feel if her hair needs fake drying or not

ღ | velvette whined and walked out of her bathroom still wrapped in her towel, as she walked over to her wardrobe to pick out some underwear. she quickly decided on a red set with pink and blue hearts on it, and panties that didn’t leave much to imagine. she smirked looking down at it, hoping she wouldn’t wear it for nothing tonight as she walked back to her bathroom putting it on

ღ | being in only her underwear she got started on her makeup knowing it’s probably going to take up most of her time. she took out all of her cosmetics and stuff and got to work. she was singing along to her playlist and actually having a good time while putting all of it on, her mind letting her anxiety go down for a few moments. she was doing her usual routine with her makeup, but also added small hearts around her eyes, something she didn’t do normally, every one of them matching her eyeshadow

ღ | when she was done she looked at the time and realised she needed to be ready in about an hour. her eyes widened as she stormed out of the bathroom and grabbed her picked out outfit, walking over to the huge mirror in her room looking herself up and down. she smiled to herself seeing her body, she was never the one to be insecure about it or at least that’s what she was telling herself, and started putting on the dress having a little trouble with it as she was trying not to get it wet with her still wet hair. she let out a sigh as she managed to put on the dress without any unwanted problems and sat down on the floor to put on her boots. she bit her lip, her thoughts going to the planned date again as she felt her nerves rising again. she took a deep breath trying to calm herself but it did nothing. she zipped up one of her boots and looked at it in the mirror smiling and admitting to herself that it didn’t actually look as bad as she thought it did. she quickly put on the other boot and made a little spin in front of her mirror admiring how her look turned out

ღ | she took another deep breath and ran to the bathroom to dry her hair. she looked at the time and tried not to freak out more as the hour of your meeting was getting closer and closer. she took out the hairdryer from one of the cabinets and plugged it in, knowing it’s gonna take her a while to get at least a presentable hairstyle

ღ | she has been drying her hair and drying as finally they become fully dry. she smiled to herself in the mirror and when she glanced at the time she instantly freaked out. if she didn’t leave now, she’d be late. but her hair wasn’t fully done

ღ | velvette bite her lip and grabbed her phone writing you a message that she was gonna be late a bit and trying not to make it sound as nervous as she was feeling at that moment. did it work? you can just imagine how that message look, i mean it was something along the lines of:

hiya babes, i’m gonna be a little bit late, hope you will wait for me xx

i’m running late, so just wait for me and don’t you dare say anything about it when i finally get there, see ya xoxo

ღ | safe to say she was even more stressed out now. she quickly grabbed her hairbrush and started aggressively brushing her hair getting mad at herself more with every second and every brush passing. she let out a whine sounding like she was at the edge of crying and looked at herself in the mirror reminding herself, that she can’t cry now as it would ruin her makeup and she’d need even more time to fix it

ღ | velvette took a deep breath and grabbed another conditioner to style her hair. after a few moments she managed to pull her iconic two ponytails while leaving her bangs curled (like her natural hair, i have ep. 8 in mind)

ღ | she smiled to herself admiring how good she actually looked and quickly grabbed her phone storming out of her bathroom, grabbing her early picked-out jacket along with her purse and immediately left the vee’s building like it was literally on fire

ღ | as she was walking to the spot you two agreed on, she felt like her whole skin was on fire, her heart was pounding in her chest and the biggest lump was forming in her throat. she tried calming down as she started brainlessly scrolling through all of her social media’s but nothing seemed to help. she shoved her phone annoyed into her purse and cursed herself in her mind for choosing such a small one. her thoughts were getting louder and louder with every second, even starting to tell her that this whole date was a huge mistake and she shouldn’t have agreed to it

ღ | she was inside her head the whole time as she finally reached the spot you two chose and saw you standing before it, waiting for her yet not looking mad that she was late. her head became empty in a second and an uncontrollable smile creeped onto her face as she walked over to you with her usual confidence, yet her stomach was starting to fill up with butterflies. she finally reached you and greeted you with a small wave and a simple “hi” to which you immediately responded with another “hi”, wide smile and a wave back

ღ | velvette was sure there and then that no matter what outfit she would’ve picked or whatever hairstyle she pulled or if she even showed up two hours late looking like an old windbag (see what i did here?;) all of her doubts would leave instantly when she saw your beautiful smile that was apparently reserved for her only

ღ | the date, obviously, went amazingly and you guys picked out another day to meet up once again, despite the fact that that night velvette wasn’t alone walking back to the vee’s tower and definitely wasn’t the only one sleeping in her bed

ღ | the hopes she had while picking out the underwear before going out definitely got fulfilled

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel velvette x reader #hazbin velvette #velvette x you #velvette x y/n #velvette one shot #velvette headcanons #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader

165 notes · View notes