#like i have the worst knees known to man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yandere-daydreams · 2 months

Text

file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side next to you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Like this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore. There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #gojo satoru x reader

2K notes · View notes

won4ver · 3 months

Text

✈︎ best hidden secret

In Sunghoon’s opinion the worst part about being in a secret relationship was the sight of all these men thinking they had a chance with his girlfriend, but he knew no one could make you feel the way his touch did.

pairing : bf!sunghoon x afab!reader

warnings + genre : jealousy. secret relationship. suggestive. swearing. slight fingering.

wc : 1.1k

You’ve been Park Sunghoon’s best-hidden secret for a while.

So well hidden that it encouraged all these useless men to flirt with you, thinking they had even the slightest chance. He could only laugh to himself through a clenched jaw as he watched all these ill-mannered boys try and get with you, their foolish promises of pleasuring you physically boiling his blood.

The room grew hot as his eyes narrowed at you, specifically at your hand that was playing with the fingers of the man who’s been trying to get with you since you stepped foot in the room.

It wasn’t your touch that made Sunghoon jealous, hell you could touch anyone however you liked. But it was the way the man kept trying to slip his hands into yours that caused him to envision himself breaking his fingers.

Only Sunghoon could touch you, you were his. He knew that no one knew about the two of your little… relationship. But in his mind, they should've known better, known that you wouldn't go home with these little inexperienced try-hards. And they definitely should have known how to keep their hands to themselves.

It was like his eyes were glued in one place, never moving away from you. The heat of his glare had to have reached you by now because your hands were now by your side, twiddling with your empty wine glass as you anxiously glanced around the room.

The moment your gaze met Sunghoon’s heat pooled down your body, your nerves igniting with his heavy look. From your spot, you see his knee bouncing with the hand resting against it flexed, fisted in a tight grip around his glass. But nothing compared to the sight of the top few buttons of his blazer open, your dark marks barely visible behind the collar of his shirt.

Sunghoon knew you were looking at him, he could practically hear your thoughts. He also knew that if you didn't step away from the man situated in front of you, he was going to ruin his pretty face. Bruise his eyes until he could no longer look at you, it tasted almost too tempting on Sunghoon’s tongue.

The second Sunghoon jerked his head to the hallway you understood right away, leaving the man in front of you with nothing but a fake smile. The music was pounding in your ears as your heels clicked against the ground in a hurried strut, excitement coursing through your veins as you saw Sunghoon rise from his spot in the corner of your eye.

You flickered the lights to the bathroom the moment you stepped through, turning to close the door behind you before a hand pushed against it, halting it from closing. Sunghoon squeezed himself through the door, grabbing your arm and pushing you against the door as it slammed shut.

You jumped in surprise as the loud bang ricocheted in your ears, eyes widening for a split second as you looked up at Sunghoon. Your heart stuttered in your chest as a small smirk overtook his lips, one of his eyebrows quirking up at you in annoyance.

The next moment was a blur. One second Sunghoon was standing in front of you, chest rising and falling as he glared at you, and the next you were in complete darkness with his lips pressed against your ear.

“Do you think he could make you feel better than I can? No one knows your body like I do” One of his hands grabbed the base of your throat, pushing you further into the door as he ground his lower body into yours.

He used his thumb and pointer finger to raise your head, pushing it up as his lips attached themselves to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “No one can make you cum with just their fingers, no one but me” His harsh breath tickled your neck, his teeth biting marks into your neck as you panted from above him.

He could feel you getting restless, rubbing yourself against his jeans in an attempt to get yourself off. An airy laugh of disbelief left his lips, lip rolling between his teeth as your movements grew more frantic, your skirt rolling up as your underwear rubbed against his thigh.

He removed his free hand from the hold it had on your wrists, moving it down to press on your lower stomach. You whined as the friction stopped, your hips pinned against the wall as Sunghoon leaned his weight into both of his hands.

“What do you not understand about only me pleasuring you?” He pried your legs further open with his knee, moving his hand down to unbutton your skirt. Your head tilted back with a heavy sigh, his hand sliding under your waistband as he slipped his fingers between your underwear and your miniskirt, right above the place you needed him the most.

He circled his fingers across your underwear for a few seconds, lightly pushing the tips of two fingers into you from above the soiled fabric.

Even with the lights off Sunghoon could still see the way you reacted to his touch, the way your body tensed as you anticipated his next movements.

“Since you want to pleasure yourself so bad, go ahead” He slipped your pantries to the side, lining his fingers up to make it easier for you.

“Please you, please” You tried to beg Sunghoon to touch you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer so you could bury your face into his neck.

“Oh? My baby doesn’t want to feel good?” Sunghoon spoke with a layer of faux surprise, making a show of beginning to pull his hands away.

“No no, just want you to do it for me” You were blabbering at this point, tears filling your eyes and you used your hips to chase his hand. “Please, I only need you”

Park Sunghoon was a weak man, the feeling of your wet cheeks against his bare neck nearly made him lose his mind. “Okay, stop crying, pretty” He shushed you as he pushed his fingers into you, letting go of your neck to undo his own jeans buttons.

“I’ll make you feel so good, so much better than these little boys could”

It wasn’t until a few days later when you learned that the party was hosted at the house of the man who flirted with you, and the owner of the towel Sunghoon used to clean you up.

Sunghoon only smirked at you when you told him, “he wanted you so bad, baby. Highly doubt he’d even clean the towel”

1K notes · View notes

fettuccin-e · 7 months

Text

Something Bad

Kinktober Day 20: Corruption

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader, afab!fem!reader, blowjob, face-fucking (do NOT look at me rn), corruption, slightly innocent!reader, age gap mention, Joel is simply not prepared for how filthy his girl is (w/c: 1.4K)

A/N: I believe in filthy old man Joel and younger even filthier girl okay!!! This may have gotten a little out of hand but idk I can't help but ramble about sucking Joel's dick alright?? (I have been using these prompts by flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)

Joel Miller is a bad man. A bad fuckin’ man.

He knows it, has known it for years. He has too much blood on his hands, too many skeletons in his closet, to be a good man.

But fuck, this has got to be the worst.

You’re supposed to be off-limits, the pretty little nurse that floats around Jackson, tending to the sick and injured. You, the sweet little thing who's never seen the outside of the town walls, who wears pretty dresses you make yourself and brings fucking baked goods to the patrol groups after they get back.

You, who asks him how he’s been, who traces a gentle hand down his forearm, sending goosebumps across his body. You, thirty fuckin’ years younger than him, and so angelic you practically glow.

You, on your knees on his kitchen floor, sucking his dick like you’re fucking starving for it.

You’d started off so delicate, so innocent, when he’d started this... thing with you. This dirty, nasty secret he has to keep from his own brother, from the entire town.

It had started with a gentle kiss when you’d patched him up after a patrol gone wrong. You’d fashioned a bandage over his chest, and God, when you looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, he was a fuckin’ goner. He wasn’t sure who moved first, you or him, all he had known was that your lips against his were soft. So soft, softer than anything he’d experienced in twenty fucking years.

“Don’t know how to do this,” you’d breathed against his mouth, your fingers clutching into his shirt, “just know that I want you.”

Joel pulled back, looking down at you with a hard gaze, ready to pull back, tell you this was a mistake, “Darlin’-”

“I know you want me too, Joel,” you’d said, firmer than he’d ever thought you could be. “I just need-” you’d stuttered, and leaned your forehead against his as you collected yourself, “I just need you to teach me.”

It had spiraled from there.

He’d tried to be gentle with you, but fuck, it’s so hard when you’re so soft beneath him, whining his name and tangling your fingers in his hair. You’d been so nervous the first few times you’d done this, nervous enough that Joel had pulled back, night after night, just to make sure you were still alright with him seeing you like this.

“You can say no anytime you want, sweet girl,” he’d mutter, “I won’t mind.”

But you’d always shake your head, eager to learn, eager to please. And fuck, Joel can’t help it when he fucks his fingers into you a little too hard, treats you a little too rough. He’d a bad fuckin’ man, God, he shouldn’t even be near you.

When you’d both started this, you’d been quiet and uncertain about what you wanted, leaving Joel to ease it out of you with soft touches across your body and licks of his tongue into your mouth.

Now, though. Now Joel thinks he’s made a fuckin’ monster.

You crave him in ways he’d never thought you capable of, dragging him to your bedroom when he gets home and stripping him down before he’s had a chance to say hello. You beg him to fuck you, use you, anytime he wants.

“Need it Joel,” you’ll whisper, pulling him with you. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

You don’t even make it to the bedroom today. No, you corner him while he’s making dinner for you both, turning him until his back is pressed against the counter. You look at him with those pretty, pretty eyes, warm and gorgeous and calling to him like a goddamn siren, as you sink to your knees.

“Sweetheart, you can’t-” he stutters over his words like a virgin, and all you do is look up at him as you unbutton his jeans, pull his fly open and free his cock. It’s fucking sinful, the way it looks huge next to your pretty little mouth, the way you press it against your cheek, looking up at him with all of the fucking innocence he’s taken from you.

“What Joel?” You coo, pressing gentle kisses up his shaft before sucking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it for one horrible, maddening moment, before pulling back again. “You don’t want me to suck your cock?”

Joel is going to fucking die here, in this kitchen, if you keep talking like that, keep licking at his cock and looking at him like that from the floor. “Darlin’, fuck ‘course I want you, but fuck, not here. We can go to bed-”

“Too far,” you whine, and Joel doesn’t have a chance to fucking breathe before you’re sucking his cock into your mouth, bobbing down as far as you can before he hits the back of your throat, and motherfucking Christ, that’s it, he’s going to die.

You suck his cock like a goddamn pro, like you hadn’t just learned to do this a few months ago. And Joel should feel bad, he should feel some modicum of guilt for making this pretty, innocent nurse into such a filthy little thing, but he can’t bring himself to when it feels so good. So fucking hot and wet, and your fingers digging into his thighs over his jeans.

“God damn it, baby,” he grunts when you hollow your cheeks, making it that much tighter and his head is spinning, fuck, he must be losing it. You fucking smile around his cock, bobbing deeper, pumping the part of his cock that can’t fit in your mouth with a slick hand. “Suckin’ me so good, that’s so fuckin’ perfect, shit-”

His hips twitch uncontrollably, shoving his cock far, too far down your throat. You choke, pulling off of him immediately, pumping him in your hand as you gasp for breath. And Joel fears he’ll pass out when a line of spit connects the tip of his cock to your bottom lip. “Shit, sorry, sweetheart-” he grunts, but you only smile up at him, pumping him quick and so overwhelmingly perfect. Joel’s knees threaten to start shaking.

“You can fuck my mouth, Joel,” you say, blinking up at him slowly, sweetly. “I promise I don’t mind.”

Joel’s vision blurs at the edges, and he sucks in a labored breath through clenched teeth as you suck him into your mouth all over again. Your hands wrap around his wrists, tugging his hands into your hair, and fuck, how can Joel resist you? He’s never been able to, and damn it, he probably never will.

He curls his hands into your hair, pumping his hips up into your mouth as far as you can take him, before pulling out again. Fuck, what would people say if they knew Joel Miller had the little nurse, with the baked goods and kind smile, on her knees in his kitchen, fucking her mouth like she’s no more than a filthy fucking whore.

His cock throbs in your mouth as he drags his hips in and out, in and out. You make obscene, sinful fucking sounds, little whines when he pulls out, loud, wet sucking noises when he pushes back in. You just kneel and fucking take it, letting him pull your mouth onto his cock with his fist gripped in your hair.

From the corner of his eye, Joel can see your hand move, subtle and silent. He nearly chokes when that pretty, delicate hand disappears between your thighs, rubbing at your clit through your pants as Joel fucks into your mouth like a goddamn madman. The sight nearly makes him black out.

His orgasm rushes into him without warning, and he can barely choke out a rough, “Fuck, gonna cum-” before he’s shooting his cum down your throat. You moan around him like you love it, the vibrations reverberating up his fucking spine.

Joel Miller is a bad fuckin’ man, but he thinks this might be what heaven feels like. It's probably as close to heaven as he's gonna get.

When he finally releases his grip on your hair, you lean back, letting his sticky cock slip from your mouth, and Joel watches as you stick your tongue out, showing him that you swallowed every drop. Joel’s spent cock twitches between his thighs.

“Take your fuckin’ clothes off,” he mutters, dark and deep and every bit the bad man everyone thinks he is. “Right now.”

You smile softly, standing up off the floor and pressing yourself against him. “Why don’t we go to bed, Joel?” you murmur in his ear, and Joel growls.

He spins you both around until you’re bent over the counter, ass out for him.

“Too far,” he murmurs, and wrenches your pants down your thighs.

#joel and his giant dick will be the death of me #love him for that #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou smut #tlou fic

3K notes · View notes

explicit-tae · 5 months

Text

Ungodly Hour (7)

While having dinner with your family, you begin to see Jungkook in a new light.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4.962

Warning: kissing, simp jk, tsundere reader duh, baby fever, shower sex, creampie, fingering, dirty talking, unprotected sex, biting,

“Ah, Y/N.” your mother looks over her shoulder at you, her eyes glazing behind you for a moment. “You’re alone.” she notes matter-of-factly.

You scoff humorlessly. “Jungkook had to visit his family before coming here.” you respond, kicking off your shoes. “He should be here soon.”

You should have known coming here without Jungkook would result in your mother questioning you - curse Jeon Jungkook and his personality that has your mother loving him already.

Your mother makes her way towards you, wrapping you in an embrace. “I’m happy to hear that. I can’t wait to see him again.” she says.

You roll your eyes.

Deep down, it’s nice knowing that your mother liked Jungkook. Her opinion on whoever you dated is important.

However - this was Jeon Jungkook you’re talking about. Everything he had said has come to life - even from the very beginning. You acknowledging him due to needing streaming services, you and him dating, your mother loving everything about him and to the worst of them all - you liking him. The man revels in the fact that he was winning whatever challenge you and he had and he wasn’t even doing anything but being himself.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

“Why didn’t you go with him?” your mother asks when she releases you from her embrace. “Have you met his family already?”

You shake your head, glancing away.

You didn’t want to admit that you were nervous because you were you - you never got nervous But you were new to this; meeting the family.

That, and Jungkook didn’t necessarily ask if you wanted to come. “I’ll be having breakfast with my parents.” he said, putting on a jacket. “You can come if you’d like.”

That wasn’t an invitation - and besides, you didn’t want to intrude on a holiday. Jungkook doesn’t see his parents as often as you do yours.

“Think they wouldn’t like you?” your mother murmurs in a low, gossiping tone that you choose to ignore.

You greet your father silently - he was on a business call and appeared utterly miserable doing so. He hated talking, and each day you begin to realize that maybe you took more of his traits as you grew older.

You and your mother speak as she continues to cook - about anything that the conversation brings. It began with small talk - work and family gossip. She asks how you and Jungkook are and you answer as honestly as you could - she gushes how you appear to be “glowing” and that it’s Jungkook’s doing, but you’d never give a man that much satisfaction.

It was another 20 minutes when Jungkook did arrive. He had knocked softly on the door and you instantly knew it was him. You were ready to retort snarky towards him when you swung the door open, but you stopped in your tracks.

“Sorry I’m late.” Jungkook speaks, a smile on his lips. The piercing slightly shines in the evening sun. He’s dressed casually, a dark shirt with dark jeans that are ripped at the knees.

You notice Jungkook’s change immediately - his hair. His once long locks that sat on his shoulders have now been cut - the sides slightly shaved, and the top of his head, though longer than the sides, have but cut, as well. There’s a loose hair that falls slightly on his forehead and you swallow thickly.

In Jungkook’s hands are flowers - this time bought and not yanked from his neighbor's garden. They’re assorted - lilies, sunflowers, gerberas and more.

“You’re late because you stopped and grabbed flowers.” you deadpan, opening the door wider. Jungkook steps inside your home and goes to kick off his shoes. “Of course.” he chuckles. “Everytime we go to the bakery besides the flower shop, I notice you look inside.” Jungkook explains.

Jungkook extends his arms to hand you the flowers, a soft look in his eyes. Your stomach begins to churn and your heart thump. “Oh,” you murmur, glancing down at the bouquet of flowers now in your hands. “I didn’t know you noticed that.”

You’re embarrassed - you never knew Jungkook paid attention. It wasn’t anything worth being embarrassed about - flowers are pretty and you’d often admire them whenever you could. You just never knew Jungkook had been observing you do so.

“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He steps closer to you to wrap an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. He inches his face closer to yours. “I watch you a lot.”

“Stalker.” you retort with a lick of your lips, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips for a split second - a second that Jungkook catches.

“I’d prefer admirer.” Jungkook responds right before kissing your lips. “What lipgloss are you wearing? Tastes sweet…” Jungkook kisses you once more, deepening it.

“It’s,” Jungkook interrupts your speech to kiss you once more. “mango,” and again, Jungkook kisses your lips. “Kook-” Jungkook hums into the next peck of your lips.

You manage to push Jungkook away from you, your body rushing with heat. “You’re so obsessed with me.” you roll your eyes, a smile forming onto your lips.

Jungkook chuckles heartily, embracing you tighter. “I’m your number one fan.” he says. “Just missed you is all.”

Your heart leaps once more - this time at his words. You push yourself away a bit more so you wouldn’t fall into the rabbit hole that was Jeon Jungkook - you were in your parents home and you didn’t need anyone seeing how truly down bad you were for Jungkook when he spoke so nicely to you.

Despicable, you think, a few nice words from Jungkook has you ready to be out of your panties. How far you’ve fallen.

“You cut your hair.” you say to change the subject, eyes darting up to the new cut. Your hand reaches for it, touching the sides with interest.

“I did.” Jungkook nods, leaning his head into your hand. “You like it?”

You nod slightly, then huff. “It’s alright.” you shrug. You needed to regain your control over the situation - and the overall relationship. You can’t keep falling for Jungkook and his traps.

Jungkook smiles widely. He wouldn’t tell you, but you were the reason he cut it. He recalls you telling him once on a random occasion that he would look nice with a cut you have seen while scrolling on your phone. It was a side comment that you didn’t think he’d take into consideration - and even now, he’s positive that you didn’t even remember.

“What made you cut it?” you then ask, and Jungkook’s cheeks flushes. “What?” you say, snickering at the look on his face. “Did your little girlfriend suggest it?”

“My little girlfriend?” Jungkook raises a brow, unsure what you were about to say next.

“Yeah, Sia.” you say teasingly - but your eyes zone in on Jungkook as you wait for a reaction. Jungkook scoffs. “Ah, we’re bringing up the girl that doesn’t cross my mind in the slightest.” he says and it’s the truth. He would forget about Sia entirely if she didn’t attempt - keyword: attempt - to speak with him.

“Just kidding.” you laugh. Your hand drops from his hair to his cheek. “I really do like it.” you murmur to him, a soft moment that you’d allow him to have - just this once.

Jungkook’s smile widens slightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes. “You want to sit on my face so bad, baby.” he murmurs.

“Ugh,” you push Jungkook away. “as if.” You do - and Jungkook knows it, too. But you’d have to deny it until it was time to actually do the deed.

Jungkook is quick to wrap and arm around your shoulder, bringing you in for a side-ways hug. “We’ll worry about that later.” there’s a quick peck that’s placed on your forehead. “Let me greet my in-laws.”

“You’re not my husband.”

Jungkook doesn’t let up. “Yet.” he says, sending you a wink.

Your mother is first to greet Jungkook, appearing far too excited to see him than she was seeing you prior. She wraps Jungkook in a hug. “You’re so handsome with your haircut!” she says.

You roll your eyes hard, placing the bouquet of flowers down on the kitchen table.

“Thank you.” Jungkook beams at the compliment.

“Doesn’t he look handsome, Y/N?” your mother then turns to you.

You glance at Jungkook whose eyes are looking at you along with your mothers. His eyebrows wiggle - he was enjoying this entirely.

“I seen better.”

Your mother gasps at your words and Jungkook only laughs because he knows your true feelings.

“It’s not like she had a lot of boyfriends. She was always so mean to the opposite sex.” your mother tells Jungkook with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how you deal with her.”

You’re taken aback for a moment, your ears perking at the conversation.

“Y/N knows she can’t run me away.” Jungkook says to your mother. “I know how to deal with her just fine.”

Your eyes widen slightly at Jungkook’s words, your lips forming into a thin line. You shake your head at Jungkook - you didn’t need him insinuating anything sexual.

“You have to treat him right, Y/N. He’s such a sweetheart!” your mother turns to look at the bouquet of flowers with a huff, trying to rack her brain and remember when was the last time she received one.

“Jungkook’s not going anywhere.” you snort. “Is dinner almost done?”

“Yes!” your mother rounds the corner to go towards the stove.

“Right.” you turn to Jungkook. “I’m gonna go wash my hands.”

“I will, too.” Jungkook follows close behind you, his eyes glancing around the walls as you walk down the hallway - there’s pictures of you and your brother from different stages of life and some family pictures.

You open the door to the bathroom and venture inside, flicking the light on. “Don’t let my moms words get to your big ass head.”

Jungkook follows behind you, closing the door slightly. You turn on the water and begin washing your hands. “I will. She called me handsome.”

You roll your eyes. “She makes it seem like you’re trapped.”

“Never!” Jungkook wraps his arms around you, his eyes on your reflection in the mirror just as you were finishing drying your hands. “I’m here willingly.” Jungkook’s lips place themselves on the nape of your neck and he kisses it. “You already said it. I’m not going anywhere.”

You bite your lip and turn off the faucet and wave your hands a bit to get the excess water off. You know what Jungkook is doing - you aren’t a fool. Him kissing your neck in this exact spot isn’t something innocent. “My parents are literally in the other room.” you sigh.

Jungkook now has his arms wrapped around you, him standing directly behind you. One hand holds you in place by your waist while the other roams upwards. He grips your breast teasingly before placing it on your neck.

“I just want a kiss.” Jungkook responds innocently - and you know it’s all a facade.

“It always starts with you wanting a kiss.” you grumble. Jungkook’s breath is warm against your neck. “Then it ends with-“

“You sitting on my face. I’m aware.” Jungkook presses another kiss against your neck. “I just want a kiss, Y/N. That’s all. I promise.”

The hand that lays on your neck rises to your chin and gently, Jungkook pushes it to the right. “Just one.” you murmur, your defensive walls crumbling yet again. You curse yourself because of course Jeon fucking Jungkook was winning the battle. “Then you have to get the fuck off of me.”

Jungkook laughs at your response. “Of course.”

Jungkook connects your glossy lips to his own and lowly, he groans. He was positive he kissed all of the gloss from your lips - but maybe you put more on when he wasn’t looking.

The hand on your waist tightens and you know just what Jungkook was thinking.

“That’s enough.” you murmur weakly, but Jungkook only kisses down your jaw to your neck again.

“Okay.” Jungkook sighs. “You smell so good.” he compliments. “Taste good too…”

“Stop.” you respond firmly. You were a whore for praises - and Jungkook knows this. Even if you would insult him or call him a simp, it wouldn’t faze the man because he knows that deep down, you enjoy it.

“Stop what? Complimenting you?” Jungkook snickers.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” you argue. “You want to-“

The door to the bathroom - which was never closed to begin with, just cracked - slams open. Immediately, you and Jungkook are startled, jumping away from one another and turning around to see just who had made their presence known.

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Immediately, your shoulders relax at the sight of your niece - for someone so young and only the age of 8, she was a lot to handle. Oftentimes you’d forget that you were the adult in the situation, bickering with her whenever and would be confused to be her older sister when out in public instead of her aunt.

“Why are you here?”

“Rude.” she murmurs, crossing her arms. “My dad says we’re here to meet your boyfriend.”

Jungkook looks at the small child and instantly, he sees you. He blinks between the two of you, slightly amused at the sight and also afraid to speak.

“How does-” you sigh, already knowing the answer. You’re sure your mother had told him about dinner, invited not only him, but his children - especially his oldest child - to torment you further. “-this is Jungkook.” you sigh, waving lazily. She was going to pry into your life until you gave her what she wanted.

“Jung…kook…” she says his name, looking up at the taller man. “Okay.”

Jungkook watches as your niece turns away and skips down the hall.

“Wow she’s-” Jungkook begins.

“Annoying?” you snort, turning towards him.

“I was going to say just like you. So cute.” Jungkook snickers.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook.

There’s something about the way Jungkook looks right now.

Of course, the hair. The cut looks amazing on him and somehow appears even hotter than usual. The tattoos and piercings are always a plus - but that wasn’t it.

Jungkook’s holding your nephew. He’s only one and in the stage that he’s learning how to walk. Your mother and father are chatting amongst each other and your brother and you had just got done having a heated debate about if tomato was a fruit or a vegetable.

Somehow, your niece managed to sit directly beside Jungkook and talk his ear off about everything and nothing at the same time, and the man appeared entirely too intrigued about her meaningless conversation. And with how interested his sister looked with Jungkook, only made your nephew be, as well, crawling over and demanding to be picked up and sat in his lap.

Maybe that was it - the way Jungkook looked holding your nephew. He wasn’t a baby, but he looked smaller than he truly was in Jungkook’s arms. He appears utterly content being held by the stranger and Jungkook allows him to play with the rings on his fingers while he listens to your niece talk.

You glance away from the scene for a moment to collect your thoughts, grumbling something under your breath.

“He must really like you.” your mother’s words have you coming back to reality. “He doesn’t really like being held.”

You frown at the sight of Jungkook and your nephew now because it was causing a weird pull in your heart that has your mind racing at what in the world it could be.

Your brother and you make eye contact, both knowing where your mother was going with this.

“Do you want kids, Jungkook?”

You groan with a roll of your eyes. “Mother-”

“Yes, I do.” Jungkook answers immediately. He bounces your nephew on his leg, his hand being tugged by the toddler. “Maybe two one day.”

Don’t entertain her, you want to tell Jungkook. Your mother would never stop digging deeper and asking more questions.

“Oh, really? When do you two-”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there.” you intervene, body flushing with heat. You take a sip of your water before continuing. “Mother, please.”

To your mother, the sooner you and Jungkook started a family, the better. She was growing to like him and that meant that she would be pushing the act of marriage and having children with you more often - even before you finished college.

“I’m just saying,” your mother is quick to defend herself. “Jungkook looks like he’s amazing with children.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook because now you were never going to hear the end of this.

Your brother is amused with the interaction as it reminds him when he was in your shoes with his current wife that his mother had adored similarly to Jungkook.

“I’ll have to ask Y/N to marry me first.” Jungkook chuckles. “Getting her to be my girlfriend was a challenge alone.”

“Good luck getting me to say yes.” you grumble, crossing your arms. You try to be as offish as you could be to get the thoughts out of your head - the thoughts of Jungkook holding a cute baby that possibly looked exactly like him.

A baby with big doe eyes…

A baby with squishy cheeks…

A baby with a wide toothless grin smiling up at you…

Oh fuck, you think. This feeling couldn’t be baby fever. That could not be what you were feeling while watching Jungkook and your nephew - surely not. The last thing you ever wanted was a child - especially not with him. No, you need to push out all the thoughts of that. There’s no way you’d imagine how good of a father Jungkook would be; how attentive and kind and loving -

You want to gag and your eyes glare at the culprit - Jungkook’s eyes already on you and his lips twitching upward as if he knows what you’re thinking right now.

“Fuck Jeon Jungkook.” you say aloud accidently, fully intending on saying it in your mind and hoping it would telepathy transfer to the man.

“Y/N!” Jungkook only laughs as your mother goes to scold you, your brother following suit.

“Y/N, I have to buy it for her!” Jungkook pleads with wide eyes. “She called me Uncle!”

“Can’t you tell she’s playing you?” you sigh with a shake of your head. “She’s 8. She doesn’t even call me her aunt.”

“Maybe if you bought her a Barbie dream house she would.” Jungkook says, turning his phone around to show you said dream house your niece had asked for at dinner.

You blink a few times to process Jungkook’s words and then you shake your head once more. “You already bought it, didn’t you?” you ask suspiciously. When Jungkook doesn’t respond, your eyes widen. “You’re unbelievable. How could you let a child play you?”

Jungkook places his phone onto his bed and follows you into the bathroom. “But she called me Uncle…” he trails off.

“She did that because she knows how soft you are.” you roll your eyes, kicking off your clothes and begin to turn on the shower. “She already has one.”

Jungkook isn’t fazed. “I know. She told me.” he says. “But this one is bigger.”

You should have known Jungkook would fall victim to your niece. She could be sweet when she wanted to, and cutesy. Of course, that was before she ran your pockets dry with whatever doll, dollhouse or slime she desired.

And all she had to do was call Jungkook uncle - she could smell the weak ones a mile away.

“When we have a daughter, Y/N, you can’t be jealous when I buy her things.” Jungkook says jokingly - it’s only done to get a reaction out of you.

You turn around hastily to glare at Jungkook, body heating up. “I’m not-”

“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say.” Jungkook interrupts. “Let’s take a shower without you denying me our future.”

Jungkook proceeds to strip as you enter the shower and goes to do the same. “Does the water have to be this hot?” he murmurs.

“Yes.” you respond without saying anything further. If he wanted to shower with you it was something he was going to have to deal with.

Jungkook stands behind you, hands on your shoulders. He begins to rub them, enjoying how close he gets to be to you. “You have work tomorrow?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah.” you respond, eyes fluttering close. The water burns heavenly against your skin as Jungkook’s hands work on your shoulders. “I don’t wanna go.”

“You don’t have to.” Jungkook suggests, working his hands to your neck. “We can just stay in bed together.”

You snort. “There you go again trying to get me to leave my job.”

“You constantly talk about the co-worker twice your age arguing with you.”

“Because,” you turn around so fast that Jungkook flinches. “the bitch had the nerve to tell me that I was wrong when I was told to stock the shelves!”

The water is burning Jungkook’s skin and he contemplates if he should have showered with you today - but nonetheless, he places his hands back onto your shoulders, you now facing him.

“Yeah.” Jungkook nods quickly, because if he didn’t then you’d revert your anger towards him for losing track of what you were saying. “Fuck her. I bet she’s just jealous of you.” it’s always safer to agree with you than disagree.

Your shoulders relax and you close your eyes. Jungkook watches you, just wondering how your body can stand such hot water trailing down your skin.

Naked skin…

Such soft naked skin, gentle to the touch. Warm skin that he loves touching and rubbing…

“Is that your dick against my thigh?” you ask without opening your eyes because you know the answer.

“I can’t help it.” Jungkook quips. “You look so beautiful…” he trails off, slightly embarrassed that it doesn’t take long for him to get hard.

You open your eyes and look at Jungkook, blinking away the droplets of water. You would usually say something snarky - how obsessed he was with you. But in the end, you and he already knew as such - and he would always agree with your words.

So instead, you smile - a genuine smile that has Jungkook’s cheeks burning and his cock hardening even more.

“You’re so cute.” you tell Jungkook, placing your hands on his chest. You rub up and past his shoulders, to his neck and then his cheeks. You gently pull on them. “So, so, cute.”

“I’m a man.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, but he allows you to tease him as much as you’d like. “Men can’t be cute.”

“Sure they can.” you snort. “You’re cute.” you place your hands on his shoulders once more. “Like a little puppy always humping my leg.”

Jungkook releases a deep laugh at your words. He brings you closer to him, wrapping you into an embrace.

“I got you a gift.” you say after a few moments of being in Jungkook’s arms. “I hid it under the bed since you don’t look under there often.”

Jungkook hums. “You got me a gift?” he asks. “I wasn’t expecting one.”

“Of course you weren't.” you retort. “You always buy me things…I figured I should get you a little christmas gift.” you say, suddenly nervous.

Jungkook nods his head. “Thank you.” he murmurs. “I got you something-”

“You have to be kidding me.” you groan, pushing away from him slightly. “I told you not to buy-”

“I didn’t!” Jungkook shakes his head hastily, chuckling at your reaction. You had insisted on Jungkook not wasting any more money during the holiday season - even if he never truly listened to you. “I actually made you something.”

You furrow your brows and tilt your head. Jungkook’s not lying, you note. “Made me something…?” you’re skeptical of what Jungkook had made you. He’s artistic you know, very creative in his own right - it was one of the reasons as to why you got him the gift you did. “Thank you.” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. “My mom’s convinced that I’ll have you running away soon if I don’t treat you right.”

“You treat me just right.” Jungkook hums, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I know how to handle you.”

Jungkook’s hands hold your waist.

“Besides, I promised your mother that I’ll give her adorable grandchildren-”

“You always know how to ruin the moment, huh?” you grumble.

“Don’t be like that, baby. I saw the look in your eyes…” Jungkook turns you around, your back to him. He holds you close against his body, hands roaming your own. “...I know baby fever when I see it.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss - that comes off more like a moan. Jungkook’s hands are now groping your breast in his hands, the hot water burning your skin and causing even more arousal to run through you.

“It’s okay to admit, baby. I think I’d be a hot dad.” Jungkook jokes, his lips on your neck. “But that won’t happen until after we’re married.”

“As if I’d say yes.”

“You will.” Jungkook hums, teeth grazing the skin of your neck. “That won’t be until we’re both ready, though. Until then…”

Jungkook’s hand trails between your legs, fingers rubbing gently onto your clit. His free hand places itself onto your neck to lean your head back against him. “You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you.” you moan, Jungkook’s fingers twirling around your clit. He forces your legs apart so he can feel even more of you. “You are, too.”

“Pretty?” Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “Thank you.”

“...’want you.” you moan, your hand gripping his wrist. “Don’t wanna wait.”

“You’re always impatient.” Jungkook snorts.

“We still have the entire night.” you say, removing Jungkook’s fingers from your clit. You bring Jungkook’s hand towards your lips and bring his fingers into your mouth. Your tongue swirls onto his fingers, knowing that the act would drive Jungkook wild.

Jungkook groans and without warning, presses you to the shower wall. You yelp at feeling the cold tile, but don’t complain. You just needed Jungkook inside of you now.

“You’re so pretty.” Jungkook whimpers, entering his cock inside of you. “So perfect for me.”

Your hands hold onto the tile walls for support as Jungkook goes deeper into you.

Jungkook shudders, one hand on your waist and the other above your hand on the wall. He starts slow, enjoying the way your pussy takes him so good. There’s something about how tight you always are that drives him crazy - how wet and warm and willing you are for him. He could never get tired of it.

“Feels so good.” you whimpered and it’s enough for Jungkook to pick up the pace.

“Yeah?” Jungkook presses his lips against your shoulder blades. “I love the way you feel.”

Jungkook plunges deeper inside of you, his only thought right now was to cum and make you cum with him.

Jungkook’s teeth lightly bite down on your shoulder blade, short breaths releasing from his lips. He places his fingers back onto your clit - he loves giving you double the pleasure.

You bite your lips hard - fuck Jeon Jungkook and his hands never staying off of your clit. He always made it difficult for you to remain snippy with him, especially when he fucks you so good.

As for Jungkook, his fingers never cease their rubbing. There’s something about your moans that often sets him off - to always want to pleasure you until the very end of it all.

Jungkook thrusts into you a little harder; more needily. Over the sound of the running shower water, Jungkook’s thrust is heard. Skin slapping echo throughout the bathroom, the burning sensation of the water he has since grown accustomed to.

“My pretty girl,” Jungkook breaths. “I’ll have to propose to you in the middle of fucking you.”

“Shut-” your words are interrupted with Jungkook removing his cock out of you to crash right back inside, pressing you firmly against the wall.

“Eventually you’d admit just how much you like me, baby. But I’ll never be going away.”

“S-Shut up.” you hiss against the wall, feeling Jungkook’s palm tighten its hold onto your hand. “I do like you.”

Jungkook snorts. “I know, baby.” is all he says before he continues to ram deep inside of you, his focus now fully on cumming - the quicker he did, the quicker he and you could do this again later.

Your walls, so humid and velvety, are preparing to milk him for everything - and he was preparing to give them to you. They twitch around his cock so lovingly and he knows you want him to cum in you like he always does.

“Please,” you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around his cock that Jungkook couldn't help but choke. “please cum in me.”

Jungkook doesn’t know when the last time you begged him to cum in you in such a way, but that didn’t matter to him. He was going to give you what you wanted like he always did; it never took much convincing. He closes his eyes, mind wandering in how full he could make you with his cum.

How beautiful you’d look full of his cum…

How your skin would have a flushed glow to it…

How perfect you would look with a rounded stomach…

“Fuck…!” Jungkook cums the hardest he’s ever had, surprised with himself at his own thoughts of you. He twitches, unable to let you go and fully unaware that his hand that once cupped your waist instead cupped your stomach.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook, Jungkook thinks himself.

Series Masterlist

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

#ungodly hour #explicit-tae #simp jk #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btswritersclub #bangtanwritershq #btsmasterlist2022 #bts smut #bangtan smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanwriters net #btswriterscollective #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts college au

2K notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 2 months

Text

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Astarion.

I started playing bg3 and i have it bad for this vampiric menace of a man.

misc character masterlist

Warnings: blood drinking, he’s a vampire so yeah

1. He’s basically a cat but gods forbid you tell him that.

I have a tortie and let me tell ya, she is the sassiest animal I’ve ever met. This cat will climb into the closet just high enough that the dogs can see her but can’t reach her. She will jump into the counter and stare at me because she knows she’s not allowed up there. She will bat at the screen in the window until it pops open and she can escape. But jokes on you! she doesn’t actually escape, she just goes to the back door and meows until someone lets her in.

Anyways this is exactly how Astarion is. He’s sassy but hides it as being a witty nobleman when he’s really just being the sass master. He will do things purely to get a reaction out of people i.e. when he attacked you the first time you met. There was no need to try and pull one over on you like that but he did it anyways because he can. If you get too close to Gale (aka talk to him), he will pout and give you the cold shoulder because gale ‘is such a bore and I’m obviously better company than that, darling.’

He will make the biggest scene if he feels like your attention is being pulled away from him. Oh you’re talking to Shadowheart by the fire later than usual? He’s glowering at your back from his tent until you look over your shoulder at him. When you make eye contact, he’s going to roll his eyes and huff as he throws open the tent flaps. Shadowheart chuckles under her breath because she knows exactly what’s happening.

The longer you’ve known each other, the bolder he gets. He’ll add more each time. At first it’s just the staring and huffing. It moves to glaring at your companion and then waltzing over to you so he say something sassy like “I am not your mother. I should not have to drag you to bed each night.” When that stops getting the reaction he wants, he’ll plop down next you and make every annoyed noise known to man. He might even start to nudge you, extending out one delicate hand to touch your knee or elbow until you get the hint.

But don’t you dare call him out on this. Like a cat, Astarion needs to feek comfortable safe with you. If he gets even a whiff of negativity (or what he thinks is), it sets your relationship back weeks. Pointing out his little feline quirks will feel like you’re complaining or annoyed with him and he can’t handle it. He’ll pull away from you and resort back to his stand offish ways. He’s making sassy but lowkey hurtful comments all of the time. They’re not directed at you because he would never forgive himself if he upset you but that sentiment doesn’t extend to anyone else. Worst of all he won’t feed from you and would damn near starve himself before asking you.

It’s a delicate dance between the two of you but one you would never quit.

2. Feeding from you is difficult for him.

At first it was merely a means to an end but then you became more important to him and now he can’t bring himself to feed from you as much. He would rather never do it but alas blood is in limited supply and you’ve already given him permission to take what he needs. If he can, he finds some other way but it doesn’t always work out. You’ve never asked him why he seems to avoid such a normal task but it’s always on your mind and one night you blurt it out.

I imagine it’s been a long few days and tonight is the first time you’ve been able to relax. Freshly bathed, fed, and now sipping at decent wine, you’re lounging with Karlach and Shadowheart. The three of you have had more than enough wine to be relaxed and have passed over into what Astarion calls ‘delightful chaos’. You’re giggly enough to be entertaining but can still hold a conversation albeit slow and slurred. Your pale elf has been cranky all day and poor Gale has been the target for most of it. You tried to step in and at least lessen Astarion’s onslaught but that earned you the nastiest glare to date. Since then Astarion has been sulking in the shadows or hiding in his tent. You’re the only one brave enough to go near him when he’s like this however it’s still rather dangerous.

On clumsy feet you find yourself just outside of him tent where you can feel the brooding and angst wafting from inside.

“Astarion?” You gentle whisper to the fabric, awaiting his acknowledgment.

“What?” His response is short and biting, similar to how he’s been speaking at Gale.

Assuming he doesn’t realize that it’s you, you say his name again and ask if you can come in. He nearly brings his tent to the ground when he rips open the flaps.

“What?” He repeats with fury and pain in his dull eyes.

It should scare you, seeing him so feral and unrestrained but seeing him causes a wild smile to break out on your face. Your hands go to reach for his face but quickly they fall when you remember that everyone is watching you closely. Whatever wine you drank has given you an armor of courage (and stupidity really). You smile at him with all of the affection you harbor for this ethereal being and slide past him into his tent. The simple action sends everyone else into high alert while Astarion barely contains the hiss he wants to send their way.

When he turns around, he finds you already sitting beside his bedroll with your knees pulled up with your arms wrapped around them.

“What do you want?”

All he gets in response is a blink and then a beckoning to join you. Patting the space next to you, you quietly ask him to join you however he is determined to be cross with you for barging in. He repeats his early question with a hardened glower in your direction.

“Astarion…” you murmur to him, your voice low and gentle, “you need to feed.”

The sheer audacity to utter such a thing infuriates him to no end but you’re right. He does and the sanguine desire is growing far too large to hold in anymore.

He still tries to deny it but his words are unusually weak and he stumbles over each one.

“Come,” you order softly as you move to lay down on his bedroll and brush your hair away, “drink what you need. I trust you.”

Those three words are almost as powerful as a declaration of love to the vampire spawn. He finds himself crumble to the ground and crawl over your divine figure. The unholy need to devour you that he usually despises with his entire being is welcomed as his fangs sink into your neck. One of your hands comes to hold his shoulder and the other cradles the back of his head, keeping him close as he feeds from you. Your gentle touch and reassuring voice overwhelms poor Astarion. He begins to whimper and moan into the supple skin of your neck without even realizing it. When he pulls away to keep from completely draining you, he’s breathless and muttering to himself you how good you taste.

Why he would ever deny himself this divine experience?

3. He refuses to admit it that he loves when you initiate touch.

Because of his past, you’ve decided that you will only touch him if he asks and if you get explicit consent. Most of the time you wait until he invites you in some manner whether that be he telling you to get over here or paw at you like a cat. He appreciates it, he really does but sometimes he craves the feeling that he gets when you ask him.

His favorite, though, is when you ask him if you can lay in him when he reads. You’ve been napping in his tent on and off all day, having chosen to stay back and recoup after the long events from the past week. Most of your companions have been doing the same but Astarion has been trying his hardest to not spend too much time around you. It’s hard enough to not just bask in your affection but even more so when you’ve been cuddled up in his tent all day. When you finally decide to go to your own tent, he takes the opportunity to reclaim his bedroll. It smells of your sweet scent and is still warm from your body, something he secretly craves.

You return to his tent a few hours later after everyone has eaten and settled in for the night. Peering down at him with sleeping eyes, you cross your arms and huff when he ignores you for his reading.

“Yes, my dear?” He quietly chuckles while still pretending to read his book.

“You’re in my spot.”

“We’re in my tent therefore it is my spot.”

You can’t exactly argue with him. You plop down next to him and give him the biggest puppy eyes imaginable.

“Will you at least let me lay on you if you’re not going to move?”

If it could his heart would be doing flips and his cheeks would be red but alas neither thing is truly possible.

“That depends…” he pretends to be uninterested in your request and continues with his straight face as he flips to the next page in his book. He can hear your huff of annoyance and fails to hide the small smirk that tugs at his pale lips.

“On what?” You pry even though you both know this is just a little game and he’s going to give in.

“Ask me nicely.” He drawls in that low seductive voice he uses when he’s trying to persuade you. Finally he flickers his eyes over to yours. That simple action alone steals your breath and chases away any negative feelings you might’ve had.

You crawl closer to him, nearly touching him but not quite as you whisper your request again.

“Of course you can, my dear,” he whispers back while his smirk has fully taken over his face. “Lay your head here."

He pats his sternum and waits for you to settle. Much like a lover seeking warmth in the night, you immediately take refuge in his arms and cuddle as close as you can to him. You feel him set his the book on your upper back when you've found the comfort and warmth you sought.

Astarion begins to murmur the book’s words as his other hands rests at the base of your head. His fingers don’t yet feel confident in moving to thread into your hair but they do softly rub at the tension in your skull. Peace is found in your embrace and he couldn’t be happier that you asked him to join your party all those weeks ago.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate fanfiction

607 notes · View notes

lemonlover1110 · 6 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 16] Justifications

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Mrs. Gojo’s first reaction to finding her son in the hospital room isn’t one of worry– Rather, she’s curious. She wonders if you told him; she doubts you’re dumb enough to actually tell him, but he got here somehow. Instead of wondering how he found out, she should worry about how she’ll explain everything to her son. She can’t just throw you under the bus… Well, she can but it wouldn’t be right for her to do so.

Satoru is sitting down, his hands on his knees as he looks around the room. He contemplates everything. He questions every single relationship that he has. Shoko knew, and his mother, but who else? How many people are betraying him? How many people know the fact that he has a son?

The man is nauseous at the mere thought that they faced him as if they weren’t hiding something that could turn Satoru’s life upside down. He hears his mother’s heels as she walks towards him but he can’t bring himself to look up at her. He’s never had a close bond with his mother, and at times he’s hated her presence; but nothing compares to now. Satoru has never hated being her son until now.

“Satoru.” She doesn’t try to soften her voice when she talks to him. She probably should. She feels the hatred that radiates off her son, and she knows that maybe she should console him. She’s mostly at fault for how things played out. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s what you say.” His voice breaks and he takes a deep breath to compose himself. He won’t start crying in front of his mother, she doesn’t have to know how heartbroken he is. She should have an idea though because it’s no easy feat. “You knew about my son, you hid him from me on purpose, you let me find out on my own and your response is that.”

She stays quiet. Satoru will continue speaking and she won’t interrupt until he lets it all out. “I always knew you weren’t a star mother, but this? You’re the worst mother I’ve come across. You hid my son from me, and for what? Because you didn’t want your ideal plans to go to the trash?”

“You’re almost twenty-seven and you act like a child. You wouldn’t have been able to step up to the role. I did what was best for you, and for Ren and his mother.” She argues and he feels his blood boil. He’s never been so mad in his life.

“I wouldn’t have been like you. I wouldn’t have thrown my son to the help and let them raise him. I’m nothing like you, I would’ve been able to step up to the role. Ren would’ve actually felt me being present, and I would’ve loved him as much as I possibly could.” Satoru’s nails dig into the fabric of his pants. “No one is ready to be a parent. You learn along the way. I would’ve and am going to try my best, the same way you should’ve.”

“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have your precious job title, Satoru. Watch how you talk to me.” She warns him, ignoring the guilt that runs through her veins. She focuses more on the fact that her son gives her attitude.

“This is what you wanted! You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d give up everything for him. I knew you were fucked up but to this extent? You’re a wretched woman, I’m ashamed to call you my mother.” Satoru raises his voice, and silence follows. She doesn’t know how to answer. Satoru clears his throat, “For how long have you known? For how long have you known I have a son?”

“Almost a year.” She confesses, and maybe Satoru would’ve easily let it slide if it was something more recent. Well, she hired you for a reason, she’s known for as long as you’ve been working with her. Satoru takes a deep breath, trying his best to hold back the tears that fill up his eyes.

“Shoko knows. She told me. Who else knows?” He asks, speaking slowly to contain his feelings. She shrugs, she doesn’t know who else knows.

“I have no idea. I didn’t know Shoko knew.” She responds, walking over to stand next to Satoru. He glares at her, standing up. He can’t stand to breathe the same air as her for another moment. She watches him walk away and she asks, “What are you doing? Now is not the time to throw a tantrum.”

“A tantrum?! You hid my son from me and you’re calling this a tantrum?!” He yells. “You’ve known about my son for a year, you asked for him to be kept from me, and you’re calling this a tantrum? You’re fucking unbelievable. This is all your fault. You’ve been set on making me miserable ever since I was born.”

“Calm down, Satoru.” She says, and Satoru has to take another deep breath. He doesn’t even know how to respond to her. How dare she even suggest that? She must be out of her damn mind– No, she’s evil. He’s convinced she’s fucking evil.

“I’ll never forgive you for this. This is so fucked up, even for you.” Satoru steps out of the room. He needs a breath of fresh air, and he needs to take it all in. Gather his thoughts.

He’s a father. He’s been one for the past four years. How does he handle it all? His mother betrayed him in the worst possible way. You betrayed him the worst possible way. But Satoru can somewhat understand why you stayed quiet. Not her though. Both reasons are selfish, but her selfishness is pure evil.

“Satoru.” He hears your mother, and he stops walking. The tears that he’s been holding back finally slip out, and he wipes them away as your mother walks to him. Her hand goes to his arm and she squeezes it as a form of reassurance. “Let’s go grab a coffee, there’s a coffee shop nearby that’s open.”

“Yeah.” He tries to talk normally, and she gently smiles at him. They walk outside and Satoru follows your mother’s lead to the coffee shop. They walk in silence, and when they get there, Satoru pays for coffee for the both of them.

Once the coffee is in their hands, they sit in silence at a table. They came here to talk, yet Satoru is not going to spark up the conversation– At least Satoru assumes that they came here to talk. Your mother clears her throat, “I hope you can forgive my daughter for this… At the very least see her point of view.”

“I’ll try at the very least… I just thought she would try to tell me. I’m disappointed… and feel betrayed.” Satoru confides. He’s always felt like he could talk to your mother, she’s always been someone he can trust. He never went to his own mother for help, instead he went to yours. “I would’ve done anything for Ren, she knows I’ve always wanted to have a kid.”

“I remember the day my little girl called crying, telling me she was pregnant. Her boyfriend just broke up with her and she didn’t know how to tell him. You were out of town, your mother fired me– I told my daughter I quit, but it wasn’t that. Your mother didn’t want me around, she started hating me the moment my daughter started to date you,” Your mother begins and Satoru listens attentively.

“She tried to tell you, Satoru. You changed your number. You completely cut her off. She went to your house, and guess what your mother said to my pregnant daughter?”

“That I got married.” Satoru mutters, looking away since he’s too ashamed to look her in the eye.

“And you know the damage that caused? She cried for weeks, but she managed to move on. She couldn’t dwell on you forever because she had a son to be responsible for. Maybe she should’ve told you when she saw you, but I understand she didn’t need you anymore.”

“I didn’t get married because–” Satoru begins but your mother cuts him off. She doesn’t want to hear any justifications, she really doesn’t see any response that will make her feelings change.

“I don’t care why the hell you got married. I was rooting for you, Satoru. I was rooting for the two of you, but you showed me that you’re just like your selfish entitled family. You made me change my mind, you’re the last person I want near my daughter and my grandson.” Her words sting more than anyone’s because the woman that sits across from him practically raised him. “But I guess I have no other option. You are Ren’s father.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, causing her brows to raise.

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” She answers before standing up. Satoru watches as she walks away, biting his quivering bottom lip. He shuts his eyes, trying not to begin crying in front of everyone.

He’s tired. He should probably go home and take a nap, but he promised his son he’d be there when he wakes up. So he won’t leave until Ren sees him. Satoru stands up and goes back to the hospital.

You don’t talk to each other when you’re with Ren. Ren is filled with love, from both of his parents and grandmothers. He’s never been with them all at the same time, and he’s excited to be with them all even when he isn’t feeling too well. His father seems to have a lot of questions though, but Ren likes the attention.

Ren gets to talk about his birthday (which surprises Satoru since they have the same birthday), his favorite color, his favorite show, his favorite toys, what he does when mommy is not home, what he does when mommy is home; Satoru tries to get to know all about Ren in a couple hours to make up for the past four years of his life. Satoru is overwhelmed with sadness, yet he’s never felt so happy before as he sits on an armchair, next to his baby boy. Ren holds his father’s hand, smiling when he’s never felt worse before. He’s just happy to meet the man that he’s been asking about.

Satoru spends the entire afternoon there, listening to Ren’s every request. He expected to spend the first day with his son in the hospital but not under these conditions. Regardless, Ren could be a newborn or a four-year-old, Satoru loves him either way.

Ren yawns, and Satoru sheepishly smiles. He kisses the top of his son’s head. “How about you go to bed, buddy? You’re tired.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Ren says, and Satoru squeezes his hand. You swear you hear your heart break as you hear Ren’s words. You definitely fucked up.

“I’m not leaving, Ren. I’ll be by your side when you wake up, I promise.” Satoru assures him, and the man stays by his side until Ren finally falls asleep. Satoru doesn’t let go of Ren’s hand. You sit in silence for a moment as you try to decide what you’ll do next. Should you speak? Maybe you should… But what should you say? Maybe you should apologize, but you don’t have the guts to do it.

“Who else knows?” Satoru whispers, not wanting to wake Ren up. He doubts that Ren will be waking up any time soon though, no matter how loud he is.

“Shoko and Suguru. And everyone that works at your house.” You answer. “I asked them not to tell, and I lied to Suguru so don’t be mad at them.”

“Did you… At least try to argue with my mother about telling me?” He hopes that you’ll say yes, so at the very least he can feel like you care about his feelings. He wants to hear that you tried a bit more. He’s filled with disappointment when you shake your head. He looks away from you, and back at Ren.

“How are you going to tell your wife?” You ask, and Satoru shrugs. That isn’t his main problem right now. Sayo can wait.

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

1K notes · View notes

jungkookstatts · 8 months

Text

What We Need

[Summary]: You and Jungkook are polar opposites. Except in the bedroom. You two agreed to just sex after breaking up, realizing that your personalities weren't working in the dating world. But the world has warned you that fuckbuddies never truly stay as fuckbuddies.

[Theme]: Non Idol AU, Ex's AU, Fuckbuddies AU, Enemies to Lovers(?) AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes and innuendoes. Spanking, marking, kissing, nasty time. Demon JK.

[Word Count]: 2,143

[A/N]: I am filthy, sorry ㅠㅠ.

This is a constant cycle.

You get horny. You text him. He comes over. He fucks your brains out. He leaves.

Or, vice versa.

This is something you both agreed on a while ago.

Dating didn’t work out for the two of you. You tried, but your personalities clash in the worst possible way. He’s too reactive — everything was either offensive or annoying to him. Especially when it came to jealousy. The man couldn’t stand just a look from another man in your direction. It blew all his fuses, and cut your own short just trying to understand him. On the other side, you hated talking about anything at all. Half of his reaction came from the fact that you couldn’t explain why you were angry about it. It left both of you frustrated. You felt he should have known without you having to explain the obvious, and he felt that his feelings and reactions were valid, even if it was over just a small issue.

Just about the only thing you both agreed on was sex. After you broke up, the two of you couldn’t deny that no one else matched up to the way you two fucked. You tried another partner, but he couldn’t give you the same satisfaction that Jungkook gave you. Apparently, Jungkook was in the same boat.

Putting all your hatred for the man beside you, there’s no denying how attracted you are to each other and how well you two click in the bedroom. That’s obvious now more than ever, in the depths of his sheets, with his mouth on your clit and your fingers tugging on his hair.

“Ffuckk,” you cry, pulling on his locks.

The man beneath you simply grips your hips tighter, digging his fingers into your skin. He’ll surely leave marks, and you smile knowing that he knew you’d like that.

Jungkook moans into your pussy, his tongue delving into you every so often before he swirls around your clit in the way you like. The hotness of his tongue fills you with a fuzzy warmth at the pit of your stomach with every movement, moan, and grip he enforces onto your body. He’s been at it for 10 minutes, eating you like you’re Thanksgiving dinner. There are juices dripping from his chin onto the hardwood floor, but he doesn’t care. He’s determined to make you reach another high. He’ll make it happen, and you know it.

You almost feel yourself there, and you try to pull his head away at the feeling. But he’s too strong for you; your efforts are completely fruitless against his torture.

“K-Kook,” you gasp, scared of the orgasm you feel looming over you. “T-too much.”

He simply shakes his head, knowing you can take it. He hums against you, adding two fingers into you, and curling them upwards into your g-spot while focusing all his tongue technology on your clit.

This seems to do it, and he moans into you when you cum for him, spilling out onto his fingers just the way he likes it. You cum saying his name over and over again, sending him into a praise-kink frenzy with the way you chant his name like it’s the only word you know.

Jungkook pulls away from you, and quickly takes off his black Calvins before he rests a knee on the bed. You shiver at the cold air hitting your pussy, a stark difference from the fire that his tongue played over your folds just moments ago.

“You good?” he asks, wiping your juices from his mouth with the back of his forearm. He pumps his dick for a second, feeling dominant knowing he got your body to look as fucked out as it looks below him.

You catch your breath for a few moments, placing your arm over your eyes as you pant into the air. You hear Jungkook laugh at you, and you almost say something before you hear him ripping open a condom and sliding it on.

You take your arm off your eyes, staring at him upsettingly.

“That’s my favorite part,” you frown, sad that he didn’t allow you to slide the condom on. Typically, you give him a good sloppy-toppy before you slide the condom on in return for eating you out to hell and back. So you feel a little confused as to why he wouldn’t want one this time.

In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s cut your time together a little shorter than it usually is. These days, he’s been leaving out an activity or two in your typical fuck schedule, cutting the time in half. You hate that it makes you feel scared. You’re not together anymore, and you shouldn’t be surprised that he probably has other dates and girls to fuck after this. You hate that you don’t like that idea.

“Sorry,” he laughs. “Do you want to?”

“Well,” you sigh, turning over onto your stomach. “I did, but let’s not waste a condom. It’s fine.”

Jungkook strokes his cock at the sight of you. This is his favorite position by far. Something about it makes him cum in seconds, and he doesn’t know why.

“Next time,” he promises.

But you roll your eyes, remembering that he had said that the last time he denied you.

“Sure,” you say dryly.

Jungkook slaps your ass hard, and you jolt, looking back at him with a furrow between your eyebrows. He does it again harder, and you gush out. Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of the fact that you liked it, you attempt to reprimand him, but he’s already slipping into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size and his speed. He pistons into you, gripping your waist hard and using it for support as he slams his hips against your ass.

“Hmm,” he whines between a thrust. You can imagine his face right now, tilting his head back at the feeling while his eyes shut in an attempt to control himself. “B-best pussy, ffuckk.”

You nearly scream into the mattress, trying to hold in your third orgasm for longer. He fits you like a puzzle when you’re like this. Dick perfect for you, and body so capable of giving you what you need. He’s brutal with you, and he knows every single one of your limits. He knows how you like it, and you know how he likes it. It’s perfect...just for now.

“K-Kook,” you mewl into the back of your palm. He grabs it, placing his palm over the back of your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. He does the same to the other one, trapping them against the sheets next to your head under his weight.

“God you’re so good,” he pants in your ear. “No one else, you hear me?”

You nod frantically, unable to produce a sound. His hair falls against your cheek, moving with his thrusts as he continues to fuck you to oblivion.

“You’re my slut, understand?” he grunts angrily, gripping your hands tighter. “No one else can fuck you like this. Only me.”

“Mmhm,” you whine, leaning your head back against his shoulder. You feel him almost kiss your neck, and you whine in disappointment when he doesn’t indulge in the opportunity.

“Fuck— say it Y/n,” he demands. He bites on your ear gently, waiting for a response. When you don’t answer, he pulls out without a warning.

“What the f—” you pout, feeling completely empty. You were almost there, and he took it away from you. These questions were typical of your fucking activities. So why he wasn’t satisfied by your answers this time leaves you unable to determine what to do next.

Looking back at him, you feel confused by his expression. But he doesn’t give you time to analyze it before he turns you over onto your back, pushing your legs up to your chest as he aligns himself up again.

“Jungkook, what are you doing?” you ask him. You two agreed not to do missionary anymore. It’s too personal for just fuck buddies. But you watch him break the rules right in front of you, and all you can do is question him, unable to find the will to stop him.

He slips into you slowly, causing you to gasp at the feeling you had forgotten this position gave you. You’re not the only one feeling the effects of it. The man before you begins to lose strength, resting his forearms on the sides of your head. He traps you with tattoos, piercings, and honey skin, leaving you to feel completely overwhelmed by the familiarity of the unfamiliarity you are experiencing with him right now.

“Say it, Y/n,” he bites on your neck.

Jungkook’s pace returns to what it was before. You find yourself grasping onto his back for support, digging your nails at the feeling that you missed so badly but couldn’t admit to him that you did.

“O-Only you, Koo,” you tilt your head back against his hand. You give him the answer he always asks for. “Only you can make me feel this w-way.”

But something in Jungkook isn’t satisfied. He suddenly gains strength again and hikes your legs over his shoulders.

“G-god,” he rolls his eyes back for a second at the feeling before looking down at you. You’re so blissed out, so satisfied and fucked to the core. He feels himself hit your cervix, prompting him to go faster and deeper than he has in months. The feeling causes you to cry from the pleasure, feeling so overwhelmed and confused by the man above you. But he doesn’t stop. In the next few moments, he sears his lips onto yours, kissing you hotly and passionately — another rule broken. Despite the forbidden, you can’t help but embrace him. Jungkook’s a good kisser, but on top of that, you really missed this with him.

You slide your hands around his neck, holding him against your lips, refusing to let him go. He’s sloppy and wet, but you don’t care. Not when it feels so good to be kissed by him again.

Jungkook feels his dick twitch harshly when you whisper his name against his lips, biting at his bottom lip a little. Kissing you sent him into a high before, but kissing you now? He forgot what it felt like, and his balls tighten just from the thought itself.

“M’ gonna cum,” he groans, head falling into your neck heavily.

“Me too,” you admit. You clutch onto him, gasping as one hand sends red streaks down his back, and the other tugs on his hair like he’s some rag doll.

You tighten around him so tightly when he begins to move faster, causing him to falter in his rhythm a little.

“S-So, tight, Y/n,” he moans. His dick twitches inside of you as you cum on his cock, forcing him to follow in his own streaks of white paint. “Fuckk,” he curses into your skin.

He rides out both of your highs, too blissed out to tell how long it’s been since the two of you came, too overwhelmed to stop.

It’s not until you push on his shoulders that he finally snaps out of it.

The two of you look at each other for a long while, ignoring his dick slowly going flaccid, and the whole area down there growing cold from the lack of friction. For a while, you watch his pupils grow to the size of nickles as he looks into your eyes. He presses his palm against your cheek, and you lean against it out of pure habit.

The action causes him to scrunch his nose in laughter. You can’t help but follow after him. You laugh with him, feeling relief that the laughter you share is both of your realizations that things can't continue like this anymore. Not when it felt too good to break the rules. Not when you realize that maybe the rules need to be broken to start something new...again.

He begins to die down his laughter for a second, still smiling, but this time not showing his teeth.

“Y-You wanna try this again?” he asks first. “I’m willing to put in the work we need.”

“If you’re willing, I’m willing,” you brush the hair out of his face.

He kisses you again, softly this time. It’s real, and it feels different from all the times he’s kissed you before. There’s truth in his words. You feel that he’s already changed already, and it inspires you to change as well. For you and for him so that the two of you can work as a couple again.

“We’re so stupid,” he laughs again, brushing his nose against yours.

“We are,” you admit with a smile.

----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2023]

2K notes · View notes

teasteeper · 2 months

Text

fanboy (c.hs)

pairing: vernon x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni

warnings: alcohol, pinv, oral (f + m receiving), dry humping, riding, drunk sex, “daddy”, situationship/fwb, fuckgirl!r, whipped!vern

words: 2.2k

vernon’s never felt this way about a girl. he doesn’t outright admit it or carry it around like a badge, but he knows he’s cool, lips turning up in a lopsided smile and looking down as his previous hookups gush to him telling him so. it’s not like he’s fucking fans, but once a girl spends a night with him.. she’s a fan.

vernon prides himself on not letting it get to his head. that doesn’t mean it’s easy though, having pretty girls drunkenly babble to him as he fucks them into his mattress, their slurred, high pitched praises going straight to his cock. and at the end of the day he’s a man. do you expect him to feel nothing when a wide eyed nearly-drooling girl throws herself at him..?

it was nice while it lasted, knowing he could probably have any girl he wanted, thanks to his pretty brown eyes and shy smile, his tall sleeper build and calm, deep voice. not that he wanted any of them.. not for keeps, anyway. it all ended, or started, with you. the roles reversed, him stunned by how cool you were, and you smiling and nodding along politely, like you were humouring a babbling toddler telling you about their favourite toy - like he was your biggest fan.

weeks into your situationship he still doesn’t know how he got so lucky, skin itchy with anticipation for the next time he can be with you. it makes perfect sense and simultaneously no sense at all. it’s perfect but not enough. not nearly enough.

his cock fits in you so perfect, your cunt gripping him like you never want to let go, your slick gushing down his length and making a mess between your bodies, drenching his thighs and bedsheets like you’re claiming your spot there. you don’t ramble like the other girls, but you look at him like you love him, pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed pink and lips swollen from his heated kisses. it’s the best and worst drug he’s taken, sweat beading on his forehead, chest heaving with heavy breaths and biceps shaking as he holds his body over yours. and he’s the one rambling to you, roles always reversed. everything he’s ever known turned on it’s head, everything he’s ever done before you totally lost on him, unimportant.

he doesn’t recognize his own voice, barely able to get the broken, breathy words out.

“fuck, m’sorry. it’s too fucking good. fuck- you just take it”

“want you so bad, baby. i swear it’s you. swear you’re so fucking perfect f’me”

“look at me. yeah, just like that. fuck- you’re pretty. prettiest girl in the world”

it’s safe to say you’ve ruined him for anyone else. it’s painfully obviously after he closes his apartment door after you walk out, splashing cold water on his face and sighing as he lays back on his messy sheets. you always leave too soon, or maybe the problem is that you leave at all. he watches you pick your clothes up off the floor, stepping into your panties before pulling your sweater over your head. he stays on the bed, pulling his sweats over his hips as he thinks of the first time you hooked up, when he tried to help you into your clothes afterwards.

“i can do it,” you had laughed, a breathy, awkward sort of scoff, “thanks”

from then on he just watched, eyes trained on the dimples at the bottom of your spine before your clothes covered them from his sight. that first night he had you on your knees, face buried into his pillow as he filled your cunt. he had held your hips, the pads of his thumbs pressed into the dimples on your back as he pulled you back and forth on his cock. he had stared at them, slack jawed as you moaned out. he pressed his lips to both of them, trailing kisses down your back before lapping at your sticky slick with his eager tongue. and once you redressed they were gone, as if off limits - an intimate detail of your body he was never supposed to know of.

“fuck” he sighs to himself, running a hand down his face before pushing his damp hair off his forehead, tangling his slender fingers in the dark strands. his body is content, cock fully drained and soft in his sweats, heart slowing to a healthy pace. but his mind stays running, always searching for that missing part of the equation.

vernon knows you sleep with other people, both of you making it clear at the very beginning that you both weren’t looking for a relationship. but he can’t get his friends’ voices out of his head, telling him he’ll find the right person when he least expects it. but could you really be the right person? a girl so painfully out of his league? a girl who has him feeling like nothing but a lucky fanboy?

⊹

there’s nothing better than this, vernon fumbling with his keys before pushing the right one into the lock, lacing his fingers with yours with a lopsided smirk and pulling you to stumble into his apartment towards the living room. he hates the club, but getting a text from you inviting him out is something he’d never ignore, pulling on jeans and a black hoodie before he practically ran out the door, one hand busy booking an uber to your location. it’s all worth it when you push him to sit back on his couch, giggling as you clumsily straddle his lap and collapse against his chest. his laugh is caught in his throat when you crash your lips to his, the taste of alcohol on both your lips in your heated exchange of needy, drunken kisses.

you break the kiss all too soon, pulling back to trail your eyes over his face, his cheeks flushed pink and lids half closed, lips still puckered as he waits for you to keep kissing him. “you’re so cute, nonnie” you smile, grabbing his jaw between your fingers. he nearly groans out at your praise, his heart swelling in these rare moments when you’re all over him.

it’s like you just remembered you’re straddling him, looking down at your thighs spread over his hips, your mini skirt riding up your thighs so your pink cotton panties are on display, positioned perfectly over the fly of his jeans. your drunken giggles die in your throat, pushing your hips up to drag your clothed cunt over the denim and letting out a sigh as you feel the stiff shape of his cock against you.

“tell me, baby” vernon’s already slack jawed, big hands cupping your hips as you start to grind against him, “tell me what you want”

“off” you whine, pushing your hands under his hoodie before he grabs the collar, pulling it off and throwing it aside, his hair falling into his eyes. you trail your eyes down his chest, pale skin stretched over his toned abdomen. you take your bottom lip between your teeth, playing with the button of his jeans between your fingers.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“can i leave marks?”

“fuck” he chokes out, your lips already attached to his neck, “please, baby. v’always wanted you to”

he steadies his trembling hands by pressing his fingers into your hips, pushing your shirt up your waist as you run your tongue up the side of his neck, nipping at the skin before suctioning your lips around it. the alcohol and the pressure on his neck and your vanilla perfume makes him dizzy, his eyes fluttering closed and a drawn out sigh passing through his lips. his cock throbs in his pants, feeling close without even being in you.

vernon brings his hands between your bodies to fumble at his zipper, making you whine as he pushes you away from his neck, “sorry, m’sorry, baby. need you to sit on my cock, okay?”

his fingers tremble as he hooks two into your panties and tugs them to the side, his other hand pulling his stiff cock from his briefs and lining the tip up to your slick hole. you’re so eager, dropping your hips to take the head inside, both of you moaning out before he takes his hand off his cock so you can take him fully.

“shit” vernon groans, back slumped against the couch, hooded eyes trained on your chest as he pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it aside to lay on top of his discarded hoodie. he has no time to think or even buck his hips up, gaze unfocused as your tits bounce in his face, eagerly bouncing on his cock with your nails pressed into the muscle of his shoulders.

he’s too drunk and fucked to fully realize how perfect this is. if he was sober he’s sure it would break his brain, how eagerly you’re riding his cock, desperately moaning into his mouth as you crash your lips to his like you need him in order to breathe. he can’t think of how if you were sober you wouldn’t be fucking him so greedily, wouldn’t be so close to tears and saying such sweet things between each heated kiss like you are now.

“feels so good, daddy. need you- always need you”

“y’so good to me. wanna be good f’you. wanna be yours”

his heart swells at your slurred words, pulling back and breaking the kiss to cup your face in his hands, dark eyes scanning your expression. he wipes the mascara-stained tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb, tucking your mussed hair behind your ear.

he’s still cupping your cheeks when you reach your high, his jaw tense as your walls suffocate his cock. when your mouth drops into an o he pushes his thumb past your lips, watching you suck around the digit as you come down.

“i got you, baby. that’s my pretty girl.. that’s it. so pretty when you cum f’me”

the alcohol’s worn off, at least for vernon, guiding you off his cock and picking your spent body up with ease. his heart swells when your arms wrap around his neck, burying your face into his neck as he brings you to his bedroom. you let him lay you on his bed, let him pull your skirt down your legs before folding it carefully and setting it on top of his dresser, leaving you in your cotton panties. he turns to the washroom for a cloth to clean you up, but your voice interrupts him.

“you didn’t finish”

he turns back to you and gives you that shy smile, the greater half of him relieved to see you haven’t stood up to put your skirt back on. “it’s okay”

but your eyes are wide and expectant, sitting up in his bed and patting the empty space beside you. so he lays down beside you, silently watching you crawl over his hips, helping you push his jeans and briefs down his hips. he’s still so hard, the head of his cock flushed red and sticky with precum. he sighs softly when you lean down to lap at the sticky fluid, using his hands to pull your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.

if he wasn’t already sober, he is now, hyper aware of the warm wetness of your mouth as you sink down his length. you must be sober too, he thinks, your desperation from earlier turned to softness, quietly humming around his cock as you cup his balls, your other hand resting on his bare thigh. even your mouth is a perfect fit, his tip nudging the back of your throat when your lips touch the base.

“won’t last” he gasps, his high approaching impossibly fast.

he fully expects you to sit back and replace your mouth with your fist, stroking him until he cums on his stomach. so when your head keeps bobbing up and down, your tongue dragging up and down the underside of his shaft, his eyes widen, heart rate picking up as he starts to let go. “baby, baby, baby, oh- oh my fucking god”

he’s stunned, abs tense and chest heaving with shaky breaths as you swallow everything, licking him clean with slow, lazy swipes of your tongue up his cock.

this entire night must be a dream, vernon thinks, holding your body against him as you lay your head on his chest. he feels like an idiot, turning his head to check the digital clock on his nightstand every thirty seconds, but it’s been 12, 25, 50 minutes and you’re still here, letting him hold you. he hasn’t said a word, afraid that if he does you’ll suddenly become aware of the situation, that you’ll remember you don’t do this.

and he doesn’t sleep, even after hours of silence, after your breaths have slowed and your eyes have fluttered shut, because he’s wanted this since he met you, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. even when you’re fast asleep, cheek squished against his chest and soft breaths ghosting over his skin, you’ve never been more his than right now, and more than ever, he’s your biggest fan.

#good night🫡#vernon #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #seventeen #svt #vernon smut #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon drabbles #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen drabbles #svt drabbles #seventeen hard thoughts #seventeen hard hours #svt hard thoughts #svt hard hours #mine

587 notes · View notes

cosmictheo · 2 months

Text

𝐎𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒 | 𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐝-𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐧

(gif credits to @pascow)

— summary: feyd-rautha was used to have whatever he wanted, it was well known, but so were you; what you desired, was already yours. and what you crave right now, is him. —pairing: feyd-rautha harkonnen x female!reader —word count: 1.5k —warnings: death, mentions of killing, blood, fighting (yk the usual feyd), just the reader and feyd-rautha being horny and a slut for each other.

writer’s note: english is not my mother tongue, so please forgive me if there is a grammatical error. hope you like it!

yes, i'm finally back!! dune part 2 has dragged me out of my cave and has given me inspiration like never before.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. Everyone knew it, perhaps the whole galaxy was aware of his very eccentric... preferences and appetites. He was well known for his immaculate and animalistic way of fighting, of destroying anyone who dared to present themselves as his enemy, of anyone who would dare to challenge him. But he was also honorable, proud and loyal to his beliefs, perhaps too self-confident for your own liking.

But every strong man had a weakness, a weakness that could bring them to their knees, to yield, to be left vulnerable. You were Feyd's weakness, rather, his strength, his fortitude, the fire in his veins, the beating of his heart. And it was quite strange and utterly unimaginable to think that someone like Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen would have any feelings at all, there were those who firmly believed that he didn't even have a heart, not even a soul, that he was a demon in human form, a ruthless and bloodthirsty beast, the worst of the worst.

But there you were to prove otherwise.

It had been your idea to actually take him as a husband. Your parents disagreed, of course, for they thought you would be better off alone, after all, you were one of the strongest women alive, you didn't need any man or woman by your side. They called you the Golden Dragon, someone with too much power for this world, you had abilities that the world could not really understand yet, connections with the universe that could not even begin to be explained, the last descendant of one of the most ancient Houses, one that had vanished in time, detached from battles and senseless wars for power, a House that was recognized by that flag with the roaring and menacing red dragon on a golden field. That ancient beast that many thought extinct... until you came to Giedi Prime riding one.

And you had arrived just on his coming of age day, where his favorite ceremony was battles, of course.

You watched him fight the Atreides men from your seat, your mother and father sitting at your sides, watching him as well, all in silence. Your eyes followed his every move, not even pausing for a second to watch the other poor men being annihilated, no, for your attention was solely on Feyd-Rautha, noting the predatory nature of his steps, his precise and powerful movements, eyes darkened with delight, eager for more death and blood.

"He is a good warrior" Your father commented looking at him in awe as well.

"Too much so, I'd say" Your mother added in a naturally stern voice, distrustful dark eyes, observing the gory spectacle.

"He was born for it" Your father continued to comment, turning his head so he could look at you for a few seconds "For slaughter and death. Only to bring that."

"I think he's cute" you finally stated your opinion, voice low and serene, not even having the audacity to look at your parents, for you didn't have to look at them to know that they were both giving you horrified and scandalized looks now.

Your father muttered your name in a warning tone of voice.

"He would look good in our home. He's built for fighting and protect, just like us." You explained, finally detaching your eyes from Feyd-Rautha, who had just killed the last Atreides standing, unleashing a wave of applause, praise and cheers from the audience. "Don't you think so, father?"

Your look was almost defiant, and yet composed, and your father took it as a challenge, but he would never be so foolish as to show any disagreement with you, for what the dragon princess desired, she had.

So, after sharing a short glance with your mother, he gave you a short nod of his head.

"I do."

And so it was settled.

Feyd-Rautha, for his own part, saw you and knew you were meant to be his. He had heard of you, of course, his uncle used to insist that he must behave himself once your family arrived, for you were worthy of having the full respect of House Harkonnen, and that losing you as allies was not an option at all. So behave he did... or at least he tried to.

"I dreamed of you last night."

Was the first thing he said to you, both found in one of the large, dark halls of his home, just a couple of hours after his victorious fight in the arena. The Baron and your father were in an important and pending meeting in which neither your presence nor Feyd's was required, because the whole focus of it was the two of you, and a possible marriage to ensure the alliance and heritage.

His eyes were barely distinguishable with the all the thick blackness surrounding him, his pupils dilated with desire, hands clasped behind his back, as inflexible as ever. He had put his all into making a good impression, his uncle had ordered him to, and Feyd was quite obedient when it came to the Baron's wishes. He was so loyal to that foul man that you thought it was something no better described than adorable.

The thing was that, as powerful and menacing as he was, he was just another man, another pawn into this colossal game of power and thrones. And you felt rather pity for him.

"Na-baron." You greeted him somewhat pragmatically, turning fully towards him, golden eyes gleaming even amidst all the darkness through your gold mask. "It was a good dream, I hope."

"(Y/N) Pazuk, princess." He just took the satisfaction of deliciously savoring the name of your House, pronouncing it in that husky, deep voice of his. He also had the courage to move closer to you, rising from the wall and stepping cautiously, holding your gaze, looking down on you as if you were prey, a small helpless animal under his looming shadow. He then reflected, thinking about choosing the most suitable words... and the most appropriate ones "It was a very good dream."

You were in his territory, his planet, you knew it well and so did he, you were walking straight into the mouth of the hungry beast. Everything that was there belonged to him, he controlled it all and saw it all.

And everything he was seeing now was you. And he was intrigued, captivated even. Because he usually encountered boring and vulgar people, people who were nowhere near his level, people who he liked to torture and make bleed to death. And the thing was, you happened to stand on his level, and even higher.

"Tell me more." You had the courage to order him in a soft tone of voice. He knew instantly that you were testing him, he was smart and knew how to read people well... but you, you were different, he could see it too, you were much more complex than other people. And he was delighted.

A hint of a phantom smile tugged at the corner of his lips just as he stood in front of you, posture rigid and dominant. "You showed me the way. The right way. The way of victory, the way of life."

You swallowed spit slowly and he noticed it, for his eyes descended to your throat for a few moments before rising again to your face, analyzing every expression that passed through your gaze, every gesture of your lips, every sign you allowed him to see.

Then he twisted his head slightly, face turning somewhat mischievous. "You think I'm scary, princess?"

Now it was his turn to test you.

He watched as your lips parted before responding, raising your voice with pure confidence, naturally, holding his dark gaze. "I think you're quite the opposite really, Feyd-Rautha."

He was silent for a few moments, long moments in which he simply gazed at you intently, with his full attention on you, on your body, almost as if he was looking at your pure soul.

"You are my destiny." He finally uttered, you could hear how his voice had wavered more for softness than harshness this time. "Show me the way, my princess."

You managed to feel the warmth of his body against yours. For someone so cold and distant, his body was hot and warm like fire.

"Are you going to ask for my hand?" You ask in a small voice, feeling suddenly intimidated by his closeness. There were very few who dared to stand so close to you, yet there he was, threatening your personal space. "Because here I am, na-Baron."

Before I could answer you anything, you spoke again, twisting your head slightly, barely narrowing your eyes. "You think I'm scary, my lord?"

He had never been so profoundly proud and thrilled by his title as he was at that moment, when you slowly modulated it with your tongue like a purr, your voice tastefully savoring it.

"I think you are beautiful." He immediately responded. "And I want you to be mine."

And so, fate had done it's work.

#dune #dune part two #dune 2 #dune movie #dune imagine #dune x reader #feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha one shot #dune one shot #cosmictheo

723 notes · View notes

tinfairies · 9 months

Text

Straw Hat Crew Gangbang Headcanons

Female Reader, spanking, exhibitionism, spit roasting, triple penetration, oral (male receiving), p in v, p in a, unprotected sex, cumming inside

AN: This was not proofread and is basically word soup. I bit off more than I could chew and ran out of coherent thoughts.

A pretty girl across the bar, and three major flirts, along with two others that won't readily admit they had their eye on you.

Usopp definitely started it, a few drinks in and he was leaned up against the bar spinning tales of grandeur as you giggled at his antics.

Luffy came next, hyping Usopp up and making the story more and more wild.

Then Sanji decided to chime in, making you blush and fluster as he showered you in compliments.

Nami and Zoro watched their crew mates surround you, the two glance at each other and decide to step in.

"Alright, give the little lady a break." Nami smiles devilishly and places herself between you and Luffy.

Zoro takes up the other side, pushing Sanji back a bit. The blond grits his teeth, but before he can open his mouth, you open yours.

"It's okay, I'm having fun." You giggle, feeling the warmth from the alcohol wash through your body. Nami's hand feels like lightning on your skin and you glance at her. The way she's looking at you has your stomach twisting.

Zoro and Nami share a knowing look with each other.

"We can have more fun back on the ship!" Luffy's head pops up over Nami's shoulder, his eyes burning with excitement.

"Yeah, I got so many more stories, and the ship is much more comfortable than these rickety old bar seats." Usopp smirks, leaning over Luffy.

"What do you say darling?" Sanji steps around Zoro, who side eyes the man.

"I-.. Okay." You decide that the worst that could happen is you getting kidnapped by these pirates and that didn't seem so bad.

Back on the ship, it doesn't take long for Luffy and Ussop to take turns stealing greedy kisses from your lips. Sanji stands behind you, kissing your bare shoulders. Nami and Zoro sit and watch like predators waiting to strike.

Everything happens quickly, and yet all too slow at the same time.

Luffy lays beneath you, cock pounding into your needy cunt, Usopp behind you with his dick teasing the tight muscle of your ass, and Sanji in front gently lathing the tip of his cock on your tongue.

The three men groaning, whining and gasping as they use your holes. Hands grope, pinch and caress you. It's too much, yet not enough, and the sounds of your wet cunt has your clit throbbing.

You gag around Sanji's cock, moaning each time Ussop and Luffy's thrusts match with each other, filling you up so impossibly full.

Sanji strokes your face and gently tugs your hair. "Feel so good darling. Just like that."

Luffy takes one of your nipples into his mouth and sucks fervently. You feel sloppy spanks on your ass, and you flinch and mewl with each slap.

Three orgasms have been ripped from your body, you've squirted twice and the floor below you and the men is drenched in your slick.

You don't know who came first, all you know is suddenly everything felt intensely hot.

You're choking down Sanji's cum as he rides out his orgasm on your tongue. You can feel Luffy's spend spitting at your cervix and Usopp's spilling from your ass.

They three men pull out all at once, and you feel entirely too empty, even with their cum stuffed inside you.

The audience, that you completely forgot about, made their presence known once again.

"Alright boys you've had your fun. Let a real man show her a good time." Zoro rises from his place on the couch. You're not sure if you can take anymore.

Zoro lifts you up, and gently carries you away from the three men. Luffy lays breathless on the floor and Sanji sits back on his knees. Usopp smirks as he watches Zoro lay you on the couch and settles himself for a show.

Nami is immediately on you, wiping the cum and drool from your lips before leaning down to kiss you. Thoughts swirl your mind, wondering if her cunt tastes just as good as her lips. You just don't know how to ask.

"You look so pretty. Do you think you can go again for me and Zoro?" her hands slide over your tits as she admires your body.

Zoro's own hands rub your thighs, you glance down and your cunt throbs, his cock has been pulled from his pants. It thick and dripping with precum.

Fuck, you don't know how much more you can take, but you need that cock inside you.

2K notes · View notes

airbendertendou · 9 months

Text

you are in love! ♥︎

synopsis : various best friend!characters realizing they like you a lil more when they should [including bonten!sanzu, draken, senju, izana, aiura, saiki, satan, leon kennedy, and tamaki suoh.]

no pronouns used / gender neutral ; [name] used in place of y/n ; reader makes filipino food in izanas, im not from the philippines so pls don’t expect it to b accurate ; friends w benefits situation in satans ; reader dresses as sophie in tamakis but w pants and a shirt instead of a dress

song inspo ; you are in love by taylor swift

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

——♥︎——

SANZU ♥︎

“big, scary bonten man,” you mumble to yourself. sanzu peaks at you over his shoulder as he cleans his gun, eyes narrowing at your tone. “never mean around me though, hm?”

he pauses, head tilting and pink hair following with it. you scoot further up the bed, laying against his pillows as he thinks. “i’m nice to mikey.”

“…that’s your boss.”

sanzu makes a show of rolling his eyes as he clicks his gun back together, satisfied with its new shine. “do you want me to be mean to you or somethin’?”

“why not?” you speak with a grin. the edge of the bed lifts as he stands, putting all his weapons away. sanzu pauses at your words, scrunching his nose in confusion. “definitely don’t look so mean ‘nd scary.”

huffing, he settles back on the bed, still sitting on the edge but a little closer this time. “i kill people, [name]. that’s pretty scary.”

you shrug, sitting up. your feet knock against his knees at the movement. “c’mon, haru,” you tilt your head back so that your neck is fully accessible, “do your worst.”

the room stills and you’re afraid you’ve pushed too far — afraid he might actually take you up on the offer. but something soft is pressed to the left side of your neck within the next second, lifting and latching onto different spots.

you gulp, feeling his responding grin against the middle of your throat.

the right side is given attention now, multiple kisses being scattered randomly. sanzu lifts his lips once more and places them on the base of your neck, his tongue and teeth making an appearance—

“ow, fucker!” you pull away from his touch with a scowl, your hand covering the new bite mark you’ve been gifted with. haru is grinning widely, teeth flashing in the light — you’re surprised you don’t see blood hanging on them. “didn’t have to bite me, haru.”

he shrugs, “wasn’t even my worst.”

you eye him, slowly dropping your hand from your sore and pulsating neck. “i feel sorry for your one night stands, then.”

sanzu hums, his right hand sliding closer to your hip and his body following until you’re face to face. it makes your cheeks heat ; makes you focus on the movement of his lips as he grins. “they won’t matter much anymore, anyways. have someone new i’m seeing.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah,” his lips brush against your neck once more. sanzu tugs at your waist, bringing you closer to him as his voice softens into a whisper and settles against your ear. “if you’ll have me.”

DRAKEN ♥︎

a towel is handed to you, followed by a hoodie you know isn’t yours. draken’s cheeks flush, “in case you get cold.”

with an awkward wave, he leaves you alone. the shower you take is needed, warming you up and calming you down at the same time. no matter how long you’d known him, it was still the first time you’d be with draken all night.

the rainstorm appeared suddenly and disappeared as abruptly. it’d drenched you just as you and draken left the cafe you met at. his place was closer, he’d said, and he asked so quietly for you not to say anything.

it was weird until you got to his place — a brothel.

“alright in there, cutie?” you’d just stepped out of the shower when the voice followed you through the walls. “ken asked me to check on you.”

they were sweet, the women that surrounded draken. they made sure you weren’t hungry ; didn’t need any refreshments or anything as they led you to draken’s room. “have a nice night!” they leave with a giggle.

draken eyes the smile you’re wearing as you tug his hoodie comfortably around your neck. “somethin’ happen?”

“they’re nice,” is all you say in response. his cheeks heat up once more as he turns away from you, body stiffening. “are you ready for bed?”

“oh—“ he clears his throat and shuffles where he stands. “you can take the bed. i’ll have the floor.”

you shake your head, pulling the blanket back and patting the bed. “i don’t mind sharing. right or left side?”

that’s how you end up face to face with draken, staring absently into the dark as your combined body heat warms the comforter. you can feel and hear him let out a sigh, “you okay? all comfy?”

“yeah,” your voice is embarrassingly breathy. he lets out another huff before an arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you to his chest. “oh— that’’s better, actually.”

draken lets out a laugh, “m’glad. goodnight, [name].”

SENJU ♥︎

“on the count of three!” senju jumps out of the dressing room adjacent to yours. she pauses, wobbling where she stands before straightening up. her head tilts, “it’s... something, alright!”

you pause, “you hate it.”

“...a little.” senju struts off, grabbing two of everything that catches her eye. she looks over the cloth she’s picked out, nodding in approval. “here,” she stuffs the fabric into your arms, “try this instead.”

you take a bit to figure out what she’d even brought to you — figuring which was the top and which the bottom — struggling to squeeze yourself in. once situated and comfortable, you gaze into the mirror.

it’s cute, watch senju told you to wear. the color is nice and balances your skin out, brightening it and making it glow. the bottoms fit your legs nicely, shaping and enlongating them. you hum in satisfaction, peeking out of the dressing room to see if senju’s done.

“[name]! let me see your outfit!” senju spots you right away. she gestures for you to join her enthusiastically. you open the door fully, scooting out until you’re face to face with her.

you hold out your arms nonchalantly, “ta-da.”

her eyes widen, mouth falling open ever so slightly. snapping it closed, she gulps, looking away before her cheeks turned color. you tilt your head, “senju?”

“yeah,” her voice cracks. the outfit she’s wearing is the same as yours — a matching moment, she went with. senju giggles nervously, “yeah. you look... pretty.”

prettier than she’d ever tell you.

IZANA ♥︎

the smell of lumpia and fried chicken coats the room around you. ran had just rinsed the rice, moving to mix together the rice noodles and shrimp for the palabok. kakucho is to his left, slicing boiled eggs so they could go on top.

you let out a sigh, nodding your head at the impressive menu you’d whiped together. filipino food was a little out of your comfort zone, an unkown taste to you. however, today was an important day — a special one. the oven dings, indicating the cake you’d made was finished.

fresh out of the oven, the simplistic chocolate cake looks and smells delicious. you slap your hands together, “jus’ needs to cool down and we’re ready to go!”

the front door opens suddenly, rindou’s voice calling out a warning as he enters. shion is right behind him, pink-faced and sheepish as izana steps in, hands crossed over his chest. he raises and eyebrow, “what’s this?”

“uh—“ kakucho adjusts the apron he’s wearing. it matches the one you’re wearing — ran refused one. he looks around, “surprise?”

“rindou! you were supposed to keep him busy!”

the blond shrugs, “he got bored.”

you sigh, closing your eyes as the food you’ve made is thoroughly examined. izana meets your gaze and raises his eyebrow in question once again. “it was supposed to be a birthday surprise.”

“...it’s filipino food.”

“yeah,” you wring your hands nervously. “you haven’t had it in a while, so i thought i’d try making it.”

izana looks over the food again, stealing a bite here and there as he goes. his eyes close ; his chest expanding with the comfort the familiar dishes bring. when his eyes open, they’re brighter ; more tender than what you’re used to seeing.

your left hand is raised, a kiss being placed on your knuckles as izana pulls you close. “thank you, [name]. this means a lot.”

you grin, “happy birthday, z.”

AIURA ♥︎

in the morning, right after she does her makeup and before her uniform is on, aiura looks to her crystal ball for guidance. just a way to know things will be okay ; the day won’t be weird.

through the crystalline sphere, she sees her hand clasped in someone else’s. giddy, aiura believes this means she’s found her chosen one. the one made for her ; the one who will love her endlessly.

“—has to be the one!” she’s ranting to an unlistening saiki, rambling about her peek into the future. kaidou slips from leaning against her desk at her words. aiura sighs happily, “i can’t wait to meet them.”

a faceless classmate interupts the moment. “some idiots are fighting outside.”

you go to look — aiura can’t even remember when you came into the room. you rub your eyes tiredly before they widen dramatically. “that’s our idiot! aren’s out there!”

people flood outside, pouring out to help their beaten and bruised classmate. aiura is frozen in her seat — how did she not see this? how did a fight just miraculously break out?

a touch breaks her out of her thoughts. you’re holding her hand — frowning and ranting as you lead her outside. aiura’s face heats — you’re her chosen one? her one and only happiness?

she gulps as she looks up to your face. this changes things.

SAIKI ♥︎

the day starts normally. kaidou tells saiki he’d spent the night fighting agianst the dark reunion — he was studying all night. kuboyasu fought the urge to threaten an older boy in the school — just barely. nendou had already asked to eat ramen — they’d just gotten to school.

saiki let out a sigh, eyes staring at the board in front of him. aiura had bought a new perfume that was clouding his nose, his thoughts — everything. she leans her head to the right so that she could meet his gaze. “what do you think, saiki?”

she’s met with silence. the chair behind him creaks as you sit down, a small laugh being let out as you do. aiura pouts your way, “[name], saiki’s ignoring me!”

you tap saiki’s shoulder lightly, just a brush of a touch, before turning to the blond. “don’t take it personal, aiura. you can just ask me what you want.”

“an angel,” she beams at you. aiura turns to face you fully, scrunching her nose at saiki as she goes. “i got some new perfume and nail polish recently,” she flashes her fingers at you. “cute, right?”

you lean in closer, chin barely brushing against saiki’s shoulder as you go. you let out a small oooh! at the sigh of her glitzed up nails. “super cute, actually!”

she squints, leaning in a little closer as she does. “you’re wearing a new eyeshadow, aren’t you?”

“i am!” you close your eyes completely, relaxing your face so she can see the color. “like it?”

“looks... familiar for some reason.”

saiki peers at you sneakily from over his shoulder, only looking at you from the corner of his eye. he whips his head around before anyone can see. it is familiar — it’s his exact eye color. it takes everything in saiki to not light up in flames at the thought.

SATAN ♥︎

you had been an acquaintance of satan for months now. he’d come to you when he felt upset ; when the only feeling he could name was rage. when the world was burning and erupting inside of him, boiling and spilling out of his seams. he often took his anger out on you — with your consent, of course. he’s bruise you, scratch you and leave his mark lingering in any way he could.

today, though… today was the opposite. there was an emptiness inside of him ; a devoid and barren system that left him feeling nothing.

satan came to you, straggling and stone-faced as he locked his fingers into yours. you’d gotten close during your times together ; he knew every sigh you made and every face you held. you did the same to him ; made him feel comfort and freedom in ways he couldn’t around his brothers. that’s why he usually came to you when any feeling hit — you didn’t feel suffocating the way the house of lamentation always did.

“you okay?” you’re on his lap somehow, thighs sandwiching his own as his fingers dig into your hips. you brush his hair out of his eyes, “satan?”

he lets out a hum. you jostle slightly, hips meeting his torso — satan let’s out a small groan and let’s his forehead fall to your shoulder. “need me to help you relax?”

it starts off slow, your kissing. the usual upkeep is messy ; tangled and rushed as your clothes are ripped away and your bodies pressed tightly. this time, satan is careful to turn your head the way he wants it to, his hands on your cheekbones and guiding your head left and right.

you’ve just unbuttoned his shirt when you feel it. tears, dripping down your own cheeks. you pause, pulling away and letting your hands lift from his shoulders and settle on his cheeks. you tilt your head, “satan?”

his fingertips welted into your back, molding themselves onto either side of your spine like a pair of faded wings. satan breathes in, his chest stuttering with the feeling. he sniffs, nose and eyebrows curving in confusion as he pulls further away from you. “what’s going on?”

“you’re crying.” you wipe underneath his eyes gently, frown on your kissed, puffy lips. “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”

“i… i’m not sure,” his lower lip trembles. satan falls deeper into your hold, his arms looping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. “feeling too much.”

his fingers dip underneath your shirt, and pull it up until you’re bare and exposed. satan smiles tenderly and you grin back, your own hands crawling up his exposed chest. “sure you’re okay?”

“good with you,” it’s murmured against your neck. satan sniffs again before nipping at your throat, opened mouth kisses trailing down to your sternum. “always good with you.”

LEON S. KENNEDY ♥︎

the bar you’ve found yourself at is starting to get boring. you leave after waving eagerly to your friends, shuffling on the sidewalk as you awkwardly pull your phone from its safe spot. a text from leon catches your eye — a mere thumbs up to the long paragraphs you’d sent his way. you scowl only to realize you’re closer to his apartment than you thought.

he wasn’t asleep — he never slept well — but he wasn’t fully awake either. hearing a tap on his door was strange, but leon let it be, assuming his neighbors had hit the wall on their way in.

until a long, drawn out whine of his name flew through the room.

swaying in his doorway was you ; eyes half-lided and your shirt falling down your shoulder. you grin his way, “hi, lee!”

“[name]. why’re you here?” he sounds gruff ; annoyed with the way you seem to always show up at his door. you know he isn’t, though, used to the tone his voice holds. leon holds his door open as you stagger inside, “been drinkin’ again?”

“mm,” you flop onto his couch, “birthday party. got bored. remembered you jus’ came home.”

leon quietly places your shoes by the door and grabs a blanket while you yawn. “missed me then?”

you let out another hum, pulling the blanket he’d given you further up your shoulders. slowly, your eyes peel open and you smile at him softly. “always miss you when you’re gone, lee. like when you’re home.”

home wasn’t something leon remembers. he moved around a lot now, going from city to city for his government affiliated job. home meant the presence of care ; of warmth. leon’s bare, empty apartment held nothing like that. crystal eyes fell to you when you let out a small hiccup, sagging to the right until your head fell on his shoulder.

“m’home for now, [name].”

TAMAKI ♥︎

haruhi adjusts the hat you’re wearing, making sure the blue blouse you’re wearing is tucked in properly. you shuffle in your spot nervously, fingers picking at your cuticles as she nods to herself. her eyes meet yours, “you’ll do fine, [name].”

“says you,” you frown. you stretch the neck of your blouse and clear your throat. “you guys are used to this stuff.”

haruhi swats your hands away, grabbing them in her own. “you will do fine. c’mon, it’s time to start.”

“welcome!”

tamaki doesn’t have time to speak to you ; doesn’t have time to admire the outfit you’re wearing before they’re greeting guests. his eyes stray to you again and again, his attention on you and not the guests who surround him. you go to every table, dropping off sweet treats and teacups as you go.

“—lly cute.” a girl is saying to him. tamaki blinks back into reality as his shoulder is touched. “right, tamaki?”

“could you repeat that, princess?”

her cheeks flare a bright pink as she straightens up in her seat. “i said you and [name] match. howl and sophie, right? it’s really cute.”

tamaki’s eyes find you again as you drop slices of cake off at the twins’ table. they giggle with you, tugging on your hat playfully before you leave. “we do match, don’t we?”

orchid eyes stay focused on you for the rest of the day. even after the club’s activities are over, and you’re helping clean up — he still stares. you finally look back, placing your hat on a table as you go. “yes, tamaki? you’ve been staring.”

“we’re sophie and howl,” his voice is light, faraway as he speaks. “did you notice?”

“only after i saw you.” you smile gently, watching kyoya tally up any and every cost. “a nice surprise for us both, i suppose.”

tamaki stares at your reflection in the window in front of him, eyeing the way you portray your chosen characters. his cheeks barely heat, but he still feels like it’s obvious to everyone. haruhi meets his flustered gaze and grins.

——♥︎—— i know nothing abt cooking n even less abt filipino food so i hope izanas was okay </3 hope they were all okay tbh

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#draken x reader #senju x reader #izana x reader #sanzu x reader #bonten sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #saiki x reader #aiura x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki k x reader #satan x reader #obey me x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #tamaki suoh x reader #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club x reader

2K notes · View notes

celtic-crossbow · 18 days

Text

Blood Ties Chapter 30

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of afterbirth; Breastfeeding; Newborn bodily functions; Scars and allusions to past child abuse.

A/N: Fuck me sideways, I have struggled to write since all this shit in my personal life. This chapter is pretty boring but I guess there are some fluffy aspects. And Thumper gets a name.

The tiny creature that had just been shrieking in Hershel’s grasp, was now rooting around angrily while you studied every perfect little inch of her. Her skin was pink beneath the drying, waxy mess of vernix caseosa—or whatever Hershel had called it—and blood. The old man had said if he had to guess, he would put her at about six pounds. Hilarious since she felt like she weighed thirty while you carried her.

Her round little face scrunched up before she wailed again, disturbed from her meal-seeking venture by Carol leaning around Daryl to drape a blanket over her. When you looked up to smile at him, you found the archer studying his baby like he wasn’t quite certain about something.

“What is it?” You asked, moving the blanket a little so he could see her better.

“S’just—” He reached toward the bundle but withdrew. “Feels like—feels like she ain’t real.” You could see the tears brimming on his waterline, crystal droplets shining beneath the pale yellow illuminance of the van’s interior overhead light; how he would squint instead of blink in an attempt to keep them from falling.

“Daryl, you—ow.” You placed your hand on your lower abdomen, finding it tight within a cramp even if the skin itself was slightly looser.

“Ow?” Daryl appeared panicked but was desperately trying to keep himself together. He wasn’t doing a very good job. It was so odd to see him constantly grappling for control over his emotions when he had always—for the time you’d known him—been so careful not to allow too much to show.

The veterinarian checked the cord to find it no longer pulsing. The contractions you were having now were mild cramps compared to before, Hershel advising you that you would need to give up your hold on Thumper to deliver the afterbirth. The archer watched as you handed off Thumper to Maggie. You wondered if he even realized why you hadn’t given him a chance to hold his daughter yet. Regardless, it was immediately apparent he hadn’t been listening in the slightest—

“Just an easy push, Y/N.”

“Wait! What?!” Daryl shouted. Meanwhile, you were clenching your fists and bearing down. It wasn’t the worst pain but considering you had just pushed a tiny human out of the same opening, you were a tad bit sore.

“Good, good. I can see it. One more push.”

Daryl’s hand wrapped around one of your fists. You uncurled your fingers and let his slip between them. “See what?! The fuck she pushin’ again for?” The archer gave no time for anyone to answer that particular question before he was crawling and leaning above the space between your knees—just in time for the placenta to exit your body while you groaned through the discomfort. “What the flyin’ blue fuck s’that?!”

“It’s alright, son.”

“It’s okay, Daryl.” Carol repeated.

The archer had gone white again, swaying slightly and swallowing convulsively while scooting back toward you on his ass. You tugged gently on his hand before anyone else could interfere. “Hey, tough guy. Look at her.” God, you were exhausted but keeping your partner grounded was your priority. He had a baby to meet. Daryl’s eyes shifted to you and then behind you to the infant over which Maggie was currently gushing.

“She’s perfect.” The elder Greene daughter chuckled through her own tears.

The hunter stared at Thumper, the color slowly returning to his skin. “Rick!” He belted out suddenly. “We clear?”

“All clear for now.” The former deputy called back, even though there was little more than five feet separating them.

“Good. Stop.”

“Stop?” Rick glanced back over his shoulder, once and then again. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Stop the van.” This time Daryl barked the command, growing irritated. He gently extricated his hand from yours, moved toward the door, and wrapped his fingers around the handle. It was obvious he was waiting for the vehicle to come to a halt.

“Daryl, what the hell are you doing?” You queried while trying to divide your attention between him and Thumper being placed back against your skin. The baby began to squeak, working up to another bout of shrill cries before you shifted her, trying your hand at offering up a breast without any guidance. When her tiny mouth latched onto your nipple immediately, you felt a tugging sensation, but no pain like you had actually expected.

“You’re a natural!” Carol exclaimed through her own tears and sniffles.

Before you could offer comfort while the other woman was obviously distraught—likely reminiscing of the times just after the birth of Sophia—the van jolted to a stop and Daryl was opening the door, jumping out with his bag and crossbow, and closing it before you could say a word.

“What’s happening?” You sat up just a little, your eyes wide. “Where’s he going? Rick?”

“Stay still. Relax.” Maggie cooed, dragging a finger tenderly down Thumper’s cheek. “Let her nurse. I’m sure Daryl’s got his reasons.” You nodded even though you weren’t truly satisfied with the answer. You were just simply too exhausted to think about it any further. Carol started handing Maggie blankets to roll up behind you. “We’re gonna getcha all cleaned up and as comfortable as we can until we can find somewhere safer, okay?”

“Just wrap this up until Daryl gets back.” Hershel spoke softly, placing a bloody blob of something onto a large piece of cloth before handing it to Carol. The sac was connected to Thumper by the slimy cord.

“Do you think he’ll want to?” The other woman whispered. Sight and sound were starting to fizzle out. Your body was demanding rest, all reserves depleted. Thumper was suckling away, making the sweetest little snorting breaths between gulps. Maggie was wiping the sweat from your face and neck, sweeping the fabric back and forth over every inch of skin she could reach.

Hershel and Carol worked together to clean up the mess between your legs, the area swollen and sore and thank god you were so exhausted or that would have really hurt. When you opened your eyes again, you were covered with a blanket and Thumper was gone from your chest.

“Thumps?!” You bolted upright, caught halfway by Hershel’s gentle hands on your shoulders.

“She’s fine. You were quite out of it when she finished. Maggie tried to burp her but breastfed newborns don’t always need it. Now she’s there with Carol, getting cleaned up the best we can without warm water. The vernix caseosa can stay on her skin until she can have a good warm bath. It won’t do any harm. We just thought she could do without the other fluids.”

You nodded tiredly. “How long did I sleep?”

“Only about half an hour.” Carol answered, shuffling on her knees with the baby in her arms. “Rick grabbed the diapers from the truck and checked on everyone. She’s such a tiny thing, the newborn size almost swallows her.” She pulled the blanket away to place the baby against your skin and then covered her again with the small receiving blanket. Once Thumper settled, Carol pulled the thicker blanket over both of you.

You felt your expression light up—casting shadows over your exhaustion—at the sight of that little face. God, she was tiny. The lack of blood revealed wisps of blonde hair, still molded flat in some places by the waxy covering. You could already see so much of Daryl in her that it—

“Where’s Daryl?”

As if summoned by his name on your lips, the van door opened to reveal the archer, clearly shivering. He tossed his bag and crossbow to the side and climbed in, rubbing his hands up and down his sleeved arms. He was clean, his hair wet while the strands appeared damn near frozen. His dirty clothing—vest and poncho included—was missing, likely in his pack.

“Daryl Dixon, are you trying to end up with pneumonia again?!” Carol admonished. She shoved his bag out of the way quickly and tossed the last larger blanket around his shoulders.

“C-c-couldn’a held ‘er like I w-w-was, right?” His teeth legitimately chattered, his gaze leaving Carol to look you over. “D-doin’ alright?”

You narrowed your eyes above the ghost of a smile. “Did you really go find a body of water to take a bath in the middle of winter?”

“W-wouldn’a left ya but w-was d-d-dirty. Wanted t-to—wanna hold ‘er.” Once again, he was pale as milk but there was some color slowly seeping into his cheeks. Hershel wasn’t freaking out over his current state, so—contrary to the pressure threatening to choke you from the inside—you wouldn’t either. Daryl ran his tongue over colorless lips and ducked his head. “If that’s alr-right?”

Your mouth fell open, your brow furrowing while you blinked at him. Did he just— “Daryl, she’s your daughter. Of course you can hold her.” You were already moving an arm from beneath Thumper’s miniscule weight. When your hand found his, you pulled back with a hiss. “Maybe just get a little warmer first though, okay?” The archer nodded, but he still looked so uncertain.

Hershel cleared his throat. He had remained still and silent throughout the exchange but then slowly crept down to sit on his knees at your hip. “In the meantime.” With a gesture toward Carol, he held out his hands. The cloth-clad placenta was placed onto his palms. It had apparently just been traveling around with Thumper wherever she roamed within the van. “Would you like to cut the cord, son?”

Still shivering but teeth no longer clicking together, Daryl’s expression molded into equal parts disgust and confusion. “The hell would I wanna do that?”

“It’s a tradition.” The old man explained. Carol was busy cleaning her knife with some rubbing alcohol. “It marks the start of life outside of the mother, when the father can begin to be physically involved in caring for the baby.”

The hunter brought his left thumb to his mouth, chewing on the side, granting a physical form to his inner anxiety. “Don’t it hurt ‘er?” You were curious as well, and you looked away from your partner to await the answer.

“There are no nerves in the cord. She won’t feel a thing.”

Daryl drew back when Carol presented him with the knife. He looked to you. You shrugged a shoulder, careful not to jar Thumper. “It’s your decision.”

“Must be done. It doesn’t matter if it’s you or myself.” Hershel added.

Lowering his hand from his teeth, Daryl eyed the knife. It was clear that he didn’t believe he wasn’t going to hurt his daughter. His thumb was replaced by his lower lip, jaw inching back and forth to gnaw at it earnestly. Without a word, he reached for the knife. Carol offered him a smile that he unsurprisingly didn’t return.

“Where do—how does it—”

“I’ll help you.” The veterinarian reassured, balancing the organ on top of one hand while the other lifted the cord. “Right between the tape.”

“Don’t that leave some’a it?” Daryl’s throat was visibly working as he swallowed.

“That will dry up and fall off. I’ll show you both how to care for it until that happens.”

The exhale was audible, undoubtedly something he didn’t intend but also didn’t take notice. Daryl’s hand was shaking, the blade carefully pressed to slice upward and away from the skin of your newborn. You held your breath, afraid any movement or sound would cause her to stir. If Daryl accidentally nicked her, there’d be no consoling him.

The cut was clean and quick, Thumper remaining sound asleep throughout. Your head tipped back against your pillow of blankets, relief flooding through you in a tingling wave that left you once again feeling wrung out. Half an hour was not enough. You wanted to sleep for days.

Turning your head was a chore, but worth it. Daryl was ignoring everything that was happening below the two of you, his eyes dancing between you and his daughter. “I know.” You whispered. His gaze found yours. “She’s finally here.” He nodded, his lips slightly parted with words he couldn’t seem to articulate. “It’s a lot, Daryl. I know. It’s okay.”

He was trembling, but you were certain it was no longer from the cold. His entire world had just changed. He was a father, and—judging by the look on his face, the turmoil in his pretty eyes—he was terrified.

“Do you wanna hold her?” Your question was met with a sharp inhale, his spine straightening.

“I—”

You were already shifting the baby, shushing and cooing when she squeaked and stretched in protest.

“You should bond with her too, Daryl.” Carol was sitting against the interior wall, looking her own personal sort of tired. “If you feel comfortable, um—” She turned her head to look away entirely, staring at the opposite wall. “You should let her lay against your skin.”

Bless him, he looked as though he might hyperventilate. “What if—she might—don’t wanna scare ‘er.” Daryl stared at Thumper, her little head moving back and forth as you offered her to him. You wouldn’t tell him the baby was too little to be scared. That would only leave him wondering if she’d be afraid of him later, when she was older. He was so convinced that his scars would make his daughter fear him.

That anger you had felt before, the inferno of rage that had boiled beneath your ribs—it was back. Had they been still alive, you would strangle those people that had hurt him, scarred him so deeply. Beyond physical. But they were dead. And you were there. You would do your damnedest to show him a different perspective. That he was good and not a product of his father’s anger or his mother’s absence. That he was loved.

“She isn’t afraid and she won’t be, not of you.” You vowed, pulling Thumper in against your own chest once more. With a hand then free, you raised the blanket and slid over with a grunt. The pain wasn’t horrible but you were definitely sore. “Get under here with me first.”

Maybe one day, he would be beyond the urge to hide that part of himself. Until then, however, you were more than content to help him find any measure of comfort you could offer.

Daryl hesitated, giving you a quick once over. “Won’t hurtcha?”

You smiled, small and tired but genuine. “No. Now get under here. Don’t make me drag you while holding a newborn. You know I can do it.” You challenged playfully. Maybe you could lighten the atmosphere. With a pfft, he took the blanket from your hand and shed the one around his shoulders, his eyes darting over to Hershel and Carol. They had knowingly turned their backs. You almost wished they would leave but having someone knowledgeable there was a comfort you weren’t ready to be without. You had no idea what you were doing. Once he was settled, you did your best to pull up the blanket until he took over. “Unbutton your shirt?”

“Dunno if—”

“She already loves you, Daryl. You were the one to calm her down when she was river dancing on my intestines. Just—try?” He sighed, his fingers slowly working open the buttons before stalling. “If you’re too uncomfortable with it, we’ll fix it, okay? I’ll take her and then you can put her on top of your shirt.”

The deep breath he took trembled but he continued until he could part his shirt enough for his chest to be visible. Even with only your eyes on him, he began to exhibit obvious anxiety.

“It’s only me.” You whispered while maneuvering Thumper. He could actually hold her later, when there weren’t four of you cramped up in the back of an old van with stow-and-go seats.

The man looked like he was two seconds from sliding out from beneath the blanket and bolting—until the moment the baby’s skin finally touched his own. His wide eyes drained of any trace of fear to make room for awe.

“Holy fuck.”

Watching him closely, those two words were meant to be part of the internal monologue he had going on inside his head. His calloused hands had never looked so gentle, laying across Thumper’s back. He immediately lifted one and placed the other there instead with the previous palm resting on her little diapered bottom.

“She s’posed to be this small?” His voice cracked. You turned onto your side, slowly and stiffly, while he silently let his gaze wander over to watch you move. Wiggling to find a comfortable position, you settled with your head on his shoulder and your fingertips brushing repeatedly over Thumper’s head.

“Hershel said she probably weighs around six pounds.”

“S’that okay?” His thumb was swiping back and forth through the slightly darker blonde hair on the back of the baby’s head.

“She’s perfect.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, quietly. His head was tilted, angled to be able to see the little face of the human he helped create. “I, uh—thank you.” You lifted your head to stare him down, quiet yet questioning. “Y’know—for her.”

Your expression softened. Your hand lifted from Thumper to Daryl’s chin, guiding his head to turn. Stifling the grunt of discomfort that moving caused, you shimmied up just enough to press your lips to his. It was chaste but no less passionate.

“None of that for at least six weeks. Minimum.” Hershel chided from the back of the van.

Daryl huffed in annoyance, only slightly turning away to bark out “the hell’s ‘er mouth got to do with anythin’?” You laughed in spite of yourself, the action jarring and uncomfortable.

Hershel even chuckled. “I mean no further, son. No intercourse. She needs to heal.”

Damnit. You knew at that very moment, it would take you twelve weeks to coerce Daryl into actual sex. God, if your vagina wasn’t ruined after pushing out a whole human. Oh well, you’d be fine as long as he was still yours. You blinked, eyes glazed and thoughts wandering. He would still want you, right?

“Gotta make things weird, old man? Christ.”

Shaking your head, you pushed those worries aside for later. He was now warm and you had your personal space heater back. You molded yourself to his side and willed your body to relax. Daryl was there. Your little family was safe. Sleep laid its claim on you within moments.

“Claire?” You suggested. Your hand alternated between rubbing and patting the back of the frustrated infant on your shoulder, coaxing out a burp that vibrated your collarbone. Don’t always need it, indeed. While Daryl sat across from you on the bed, rubbing the length of his left index finger across his lips, you adjusted Thumper to the opposite breast. Her little fists were flailing, her face scrunched up and red. The little squeaks and grunts were aplenty as she worked herself up to a squalling cry. “Ssh, here, Thumps.” The moment your nipple rubbed against her cheek, the baby rooted for it eagerly, latching on and suckling with gusto.

“When she scrunches ‘er face like that, she looks like Merle.” Daryl snorted. His expression didn’t show it but his eyes held a distinct shimmer of sadness.

“Wanna name her Merle? Merlene? Marleen?” You almost cackled at the look he pulled. “Okay, okay. I said Claire, grumpy gills.”

“Nah.” He sniffed and briefly glanced toward the window. You could hear the van and truck rolling in, hopefully with more supplies. “Makes me think’a that ear piercin’ place in all the malls.”

You thought about people that you had lost. Maybe you could honor them this way. “Andrea?” Daryl snorted.

“She gonna shoot me when she gets older?” He took a deep breath and balanced his chin on his right palm, elbow pressed into his thigh. “Don’t really feel like she should be a Andrea.”

“Patricia?” You pressed on, stroking Thumper’s cheek with a fingertip. “We could call her Patty?”

“No.”

Your aunt maybe. “My aunt’s name was—actually, no. Nevermind.” This time, it was you that snorted. Daryl shook his head before he turned it back to the window. Thumper had released your nipple, even as her little mouth continued to try and suckle. “Can you burp her while I get all—” you gestured broadly toward your entire self.

“Sure.” He slid off the mattress and leaned down to take his daughter, so carefully maneuvering her against the front of his shoulder. You kept your sights on him as he moved toward the window, offering the baby a little sunlight.

You and Daryl slept in the van until the current safe house had been found. No one even woke the archer to help clear it. Probably because Thumps was still lying on his chest. Carol had been the one to wake the two of you, sending you into the bedroom while she heated as much water as she could for you to properly clean up and then to give the baby a warm bath. Daryl held your daughter while you wiped her down. There was a fire burning in the living room and though you could feel the house slowly warming, neither of you wanted to take any risks. You removed the little knit hat from her head and took care in wiping away the remaining film over her skin. Patting her dry, you replaced the hat and moved on. Each area was bared, cleaned, and covered. You couldn’t help but smile when the archer looked away while you removed the diaper. You made it all the way to her feet before she woke up properly and started trying to suckle Daryl’s thumb. “Barkin’ up the wrong tree, lil’ one. Gonna hafta talk to your mama if you’re hungry.”

And now here you were, tucking away your tits into a nursing bra while your partner rubbed the back of your perfect daughter by a sunlit window. Thumper was in a light blue sleeper onesie and wrapped in a pink blanket— littered with little birds—to make sure she stayed warm.

You didn’t hear her burp but had no doubt that she did if he was taking her from his shoulder to the crook of his right arm. From your vantage point you couldn’t see much but you could tell Daryl was talking to her.

While daddy and daughter were occupied, you laid back on the bed and stretched tired muscles. Your abdomen was still swollen but soft. It was your lady bits that were hot and sore. Forget taking a piss. You had nearly screeched when Daryl had accompanied you earlier, leaving Thumper with Carol. You were bleeding but thank god, Carol had warned you and handed you a couple of pads before you headed out the door. You hadn’t thought anything of it until you were standing over where you had urinated and it looked like a murder scene.

“Jesus, it’s Nightmare on Elm St in my underwear.” You said as you rounded the tree. Daryl looked unamused. “Ya gotta be so—graphic? Good lord.”

“Need to hunt soon.” Daryl spoke suddenly from the window. You sat back up with a wince just as he made his way back to you.

“We have a lot of canned stuff. You don’t need to—”

“Doc said ya need protein to keep makin’ milk for her.”

You didn’t want him to go anywhere. Logically, you knew it made sense. He was the only other hunter besides yourself. Canned veggies wouldn’t do much towards milk production and of course Daryl had asked about it already. Hershel had been pleased that Thumper was appearing satisfied with the colostrum you were producing, but she would need more even within just the next few days.

“When?” You tracked him as he lowered to the edge of the mattress just in front of you. The baby’s little hand was curled around his middle finger and you weren’t sure he cared about anything else enough to divert his attention away from his newborn. “Daryl.” You chuckled.

“Yeah?” He still wasn’t paying attention.

“Purple because aliens don’t wear hats.”

“Mhm.” Had he ever been this distracted? You called his name again amidst a laugh, each syllable bouncing. Finally, he looked up. Straight ahead first, as if forgetting where you were sitting. Then it was over to you. “You say somethin’?”

“Welcome back.”

He mocked a laugh and then deadpanned. “Funny girl.”

Your smile remained steadfast. “When are you going out to hunt?”

“Thought I’d leave in the mornin’. Y’know, stick ‘round to help ya tonight an’ make sure ya both’re all good ‘fore I go. Try to bring back all I can so that—” His mouth was still open, but the words stopped altogether. His brow drew inward. “Think this diaper’s toast.”

Oh god.

The first diaper change.

“Should I get Carol?” You asked in earnest. You had never changed a diaper before and Daryl had never indicated he had any experience either. Still, he shook his head.

“Gotta learn sometime, right? Between the two’a us, how hard can it be?”

The answer: really fucking hard.

“Daryl, you have to look!”

“Don’t feel right to see ‘er—areas.”

“You’re her father and you’re trying to change her. It’s fine. You’re gonna get it all over your hands if you don’t look.”

“S’it s’posed to be that color?”

“How the hell should I know? Can you hand me the wipes?”

“What wipes?”

“You didn’t grab the wipes?”

“No?”

“Was that a question?”

“No?”

“Daryl.”

“Y/N.”

“Get the wipes.”

Twenty minutes later, Thumper was snoozing comfortably on the mattress, wrapped snugly in her blanket without a care in the world. You and Daryl, however, were staring at the small creature, appearing every bit as though you were trapped in the flashbacks of war.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to take that long.” You finally commented.

“Walker guts don’t even look like that.” Daryl’s voice was just as quiet and monotonous as your own.

“It didn’t even smell. Shouldn’t it smell bad?”

“You’re complainin’?”

“Touché.”

When Carol knocked, your heads moved in unison, two sets of wide, troubled eyes landing on the woman in the doorway. Her eyebrows shot upward, lowering slowly as she took in the scene: you and Daryl cross-legged on the mattress. Thumper just a few inches away. Wipes and a rolled up diaper on the floor below the foot of the bed. Her hand flew to her mouth, pressing against it to smother the chuckle that tried so hard to break free.

“You two okay?” She finally asked, clearing her throat.

“We look okay?” Daryl rasped.

She struggled against laughter again. “You look like two first time parents discovering one of the joys of a newborn.”

“We need help.” You were practically pleading, feeling horrible to ask it of the woman who had lost her only child. Daryl’s expression was just as desperate even if he would never grant it a voice.

“Okay, let’s go over the basics.” Carol shook her head fondly and closed the door behind her.

Several feedings and diaper changes later, Thumper was asleep between you and Daryl. Night had stolen the sun and a candle burned on the bedside table behind you. She was so far a quiet baby, only crying when she was hungry and would squeak and grunt when her diaper was soiled.

“Expressing herself in grunts and other noncommittal sounds. She’s totally your kid.” You teased. “Shuddup.”

Daryl’s hand was on the baby’s stomach, likely just as much for his benefit as hers. He was dozing, making a valiant effort to stay awake with little success. You were just as tired but you couldn’t seem to coerce your eyes away from your partner and daughter. Daryl had been so attentive and tender with you while you carried Thumper but seeing him physically interact with her was an entirely different experience.

Once again, it was likely something he would internalize but he was absolutely in love. That little thing lying between the two of you had already stolen his whole heart. If you had any doubt of his desire and ability to be her dad,—which you didn’t—that would be long gone now.

When you weren’t nursing her, she was with Daryl. He talked to her in hushed whispers like sharing secrets he’d never speak to another living soul. And she slept or stared at him while he stared right back. She had the bluest of eyes but Carol said they might not remain that way.

You hoped they did.

When she looked at you, you could feel her curiosity and adoration. You were her mother and she knew. She knew your voice, your touch. She knew Daryl. Carol said Thumper could only see in shapes and shades of gray, but you didn’t believe that. Not for a second. They way she would stare at Daryl, her little fingers squeezing the edge of her pink bird blanket. No, you didn’t believe that.

“Think I gotta name for ‘er.” Daryl spoke suddenly, words rough off his tongue, laced with exhaustion. You smiled.

“Oh yeah?” You wondered if he was even awake or aware of what he was saying. His eyelids were heavy, flickering open every few seconds.

“Yeah. S’okay if ya don’t like it. Don’t really make no sense.”

You laughed within a breath, reaching to brush the hair off his forehead. When he didn’t speak for a moment, you found yourself too curious to let it go. “Are you gonna tell me?”

He took a deep breath, eyes still closed, with an mhm during the exhale. His index finger was gently rubbing back and forth over Thumper’s little hand while she had it fisted into her blanket.

You almost moved your hand to his shoulder to shake him awake, but refrained. He was—like you—exhausted, and within that state, he was emotionally vulnerable. You almost felt as if you were taking advantage of that, but there was a realization that you wanted him to name her. So, you would wait. Let him sleep or listen when he was ready to tell you.

“Birdie.” He finally breathed. Without opening his eyes, he moved his finger to tap one of the birds on the blanket. “Birdie Jade.”

You felt the wet tickle of a tear running across the bridge of your nose and wiped it away before it could sting your other eye. Sniffling, you ran your fingers through the hair above Daryl’s ear. His eyes finally opened, clear and sharp, watching, waiting for your reaction.

You pulled back your hand and laid it on top of his, over the baby’s blanket.

“Hi, Birdie.”

#murda writes #blood ties #daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #daddy!daryl

366 notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 4 months

Text

Wolf like me

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader Summary: you meet someone who finally fills the void in you Warnings: 18+ mdni. Darkish. rough sex, oral (m/f), facial, self abandonment, toxic relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, spitting, biting, manhandling, unprotected piv, rimming, ass play, anal, creampie, reader is looking for pain, Joel is not particularly nice and not caring either. No age specified. a/n: @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog thank you for beta-ing me, and hearing me whine 😭💕🫶 There are Joels that are particularly physically powerful, brutal, and sexually aggressive. I call them “beast!Joel” 😍🥵 Here they are: Carnal @pascalsbby | Daddy Joel & A day in the filth @toxicanonymity | Lost in the dark @iamasaddie. Thank you for these awesome fics 🙏❤️ Here’s mine :) The title is from Wolf like me by TV on the radio

ao3 | masterlist | part 2

Joel was pretty well known at the QZ. He had the reputation of a distant man, not meddling in other people's affairs and hating people meddling in his own. He carried out the worst tasks, those that paid the most. It was impossible to know what shenanigans he was getting into with Tess, the woman he was often seen with. Impossible to know why he sometimes met FEDRA soldiers on the sidelines, but without really hiding it, as if he knew that no one would dare bother him.

You worked for Robert and you knew that his relationship with Joel was tense. So for some time now, when Robert needed something from Joel, he went through you. Every time you met him, Joel lived up to his reputation. He grumbled more than spoke, he was not very verbose, he did not bother with manners and was barely polite. He used to roll his eyes an embarrassing number of times at you, like you were the stupidest person in the world. However, he didn't impress you, and one day, you caught a grin when you responded to him in a biting tone.

That’s probably how you ended up on your knees in front of him one evening, his cock in your mouth and his fist clenched in your hair. His massive hand on the back of your head holding you exactly how he wanted, while he was fucking your throat without worrying about the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

He let go of you, and ordered you to get on the bed, “cheek against the pillow and ass in the air.”

You looked up at him, without immediately obeying, and he pointed to the bed with his chin. You got up and settled in, unable to resist his directive tone. When he knelt behind you, his fat cock in his hand, ready to push it into your core, you freed yourself from his hand, asking him to wait.

“Wait for what exactly, little girl?”

In someone else's mouth, this pet name might have been cute. Or kind. But in his, you felt like a helpless little thing in the hands of a man much more powerful than you.

“Wait until I’m prepared,” you whispered.

“Do you think I’m gonna make love to you, baby girl?”

He tilted his head to the side, waiting for your response which didn't come.

“Cause I don’t make love. I fuck hard. So either you take my fuckin’ cock the way I wanna give it to you, or you get the fuck outta here.”

You let him fuck you the way he wanted, your teeth digging into the flesh of your hand to keep you from screaming, while his fingers were firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. He pulled out just before he came, grabbing your arm for you to follow him to the side of the bed. His feet planted on the ground, he jerked himself into his clenched fist until spurts of cum covered your face.

Stunned by his animality, you didn't move before he pushed you down onto the floor, and he plunged into you, his tongue dipping into your aching pussy. He ate you as he had fucked you just before: like a hungry beast devouring its wounded prey. His fingers were everywhere, on your clit, in your pussy and in your ass. Yours were buried in his curls, clawing at his scalp, making him grunt against your folds until you came, exhausted, and finally relaxed your muscles that had been contracting until then, under the assaults he had inflicted on you.

Of course, he didn't walk you home. He didn’t even say a word to you, to be honest. He barely watched you wipe away the cum that was still on your cheeks.

You continued to meet Joel on Robert's behalf, and you returned to his apartment several times.

Every time he fucked you, you felt like you were being tossed around in dark waters, the movement of which seemed strangely familiar to you. And above all, the feeling gave you the confirmation that you were still alive.

Joel wanted to own, to take. And you wanted to be owned, creating a perfect balance between you. You were giving him everything he wanted. Your body was always adapting to his, whatever hole he thrusted into. He probably licked and smelled every inch of your skin. Left bite marks on your body, as if his cock deep inside you wasn't enough, as if he needed to sink his teeth into your skin. Needed to show everyone that you were his. That you had been claimed. “I want you to use my body whenever and however you want”, you told him once. And he did. Days after days.

As soon as you closed the door to his apartment behind you, you felt that the atmosphere was heavier than usual. He was sitting near the dining room table, facing the front door, and you.

“Who was it?”, he asked, in an annoyed voice, so low you barely heard him, while his fist was clenched on the table.

"Who are you talking about?"

“That boy, with you near the guardhouse this afternoon.” He spat out the sentence, his jaw clenched, the sound of his voice barely reaching your ears.

“He’s one of Robert’s guys, he’s not a boy,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. He stood up suddenly and slammed you against the wall with surprising agility for a man of his build. His hand pressed against your throat, his face lowered towards you, you only saw his dark eyes.

“You let him fuck you?” he growled, tightening his grip on your throat.

“No, damn, Joel…”, you whispered.

He released his grip slightly and breathed down your neck, then moved up to your ear, as if to make sure that he would only smell your scent on you.

“Mine,” he murmured, his nose in your hair, his hand sliding from your throat to one of your breasts which he grabbed.

“Yours”, you breathed in his ear, your hand clinging to his bicep.

“I’m gonna be brutal, baby doll.”

“I know.”

He unbuttoned his pants, pulling out his hard cock, before grabbing your thighs and lifting you off the ground. He pushed aside the panties under your dress, and positioned his tip at your entrance. He looked at you, daring you with his gaze to tell him to wait. But it’s been a long time now since you asked him to be prepared. You only wanted to feel him more. Always more. And the faster he plunged into you, the more intoxicating the sensation was.

He sank in, his gaze boring into yours as his cock split your pussy. In one push he bottomed out. He pulled back almost all the way and thrusted in again, after tilting his pelvis so that you impaled yourself as deep as possible on his shaft. Breathless, you grabbed his shoulders to try to ease the way you were taking his cock. But he placed his arm against your back and tightened his hand on the back of your neck, trapping you in his embrace. He pounded you against the wall, and you were whimpering at each stroke of his cock.

“You’re mine”, he said again, thrusting in. “You belong to me, only my cock can fuck this cunt. You hear me, little girl?”

“Fuck… Yes Joel! Just you.”

“Not only your cunt. Everything. I want only my smell on you.”

He grabbed your chin in his hand, looking at you questioningly. You nodded and said “only you.”

“Good girl. Come here.”

He released you and grabbed your arm, squeezing it way too tightly with his large hand, before throwing you onto the bed. He was standing in front of you, his pants just under his balls, still covering his thick thighs. His hand was tight on his cock, glistening with your wetness. You could see the vein in his neck pulsing.

He spat into his palm before jerking off harshly while watching you.

“Joel”, you whimpered. “Please I want-”

“You’ll have that cock when I’ll give it to you”, he cut you off.

“Please Joel, use me”, you whined again.

“Jesus, you need my cock that bad? Get on all fours, then. And take off your clothes.”

You undressed and watched him remove his clothes, before waiting for him on your hands and knees. The bed sank under his weight as he knelt behind you. He ran his hands from your neck to the small of your back. He reveled in your eagerness, seeing your ass pushed back towards him. You wanted him to use you, the way he wanted. He placed his cock at your entrance, and thrusted in slowly. So slowly that it was almost more painful than when he would suddenly stick it in you. Like a bandage that you gently remove instead of ripping it off all at once. You felt your pussy spread painfully to let his cock sink in. You felt his skin warming you up from the inside. He kept thrusting, and you realized that you had been holding your breath since he dove in you. You breathed deeply, keeping yourself from moving backwards and impaling yourself on his cock in one blow. You knew he wanted to control the pace, and you wanted him to act that way. You wanted to be in pain, to feel things as intensely as possible, and for as long as possible.

You felt so fragile and vulnerable, with his massive hands on you and his cock piercing you. And at the same time, you had never felt so safe. Nothing could happen to you, with him.

Finally his cock bottomed out and you gasped. He pulled back and thrusted in with a brutal move this time, as you reflexively leaned forward. He tightened his embrace, threatening “don’t you dare. You’re gonna take my cock, as I want you to take it.” You bit your lip and nodded.

You heard him spit and you shivered as you felt his saliva reach your ass, his thumb immediately coming up to push it into your ring. You heard him grunt behind your back, guessing his contemplation between keeping fucking your pussy or claiming your ass. With a snort, he pulled out, dipping his tongue against your ass, lapping flat. You heard him jerking off into his fist and part of you hoped to see him desperate to the point of cumming against the sheets without having time to fuck you. But his primal instinct for possession was the strongest, and he positioned himself against your ring once he felt you would be able to take it.

He pushed, and you waited quietly, controlling your breath, until the tip was fully in.

“Oh fuck, Joel…”

“Always ready to take it in your ass, right?”

“I…fuck. Yeah. I can always take it.”

“Good girl”, he praised, as he thrusted in suddenly, the brutality of his action clashing with the sound of his voice. You didn't have time to say a word, he was already pulling back before burying himself again, showing you once more that you were his, pinching your hips, and you knew that the morning after your skin there would be blue.

“Turn around, I want to see your face while I fuck your ass,” he said, pulling back and manhandling you to turn around.

You lay on your back, and he grabbed the back of your knees to bring them closer to your shoulders before thrusting in. The position made the penetration so deep that you thought he was actually going to tear you in half. His growls were more animalistic than human and you lost yourself in their sounds.

“Look”, he said. “Look at my cock, ruining your ass.”

He pulled his torso away from yours and you looked down, where your bodies were one.

“Fuck, baby doll. Look. You’re taking it so good.”

“Joel... Let off all your steam. Use me for that.”

“Shit you’re…you never get enough of that cock.”

He fucked you, probably harder than ever, and you couldn't feel your body anymore.

“Lose yourself in me”, he told you, looking at you as if he was reading you. “I’m here for it”, he added. You came, hearing him, your clit rubbing against his lower stomach.

Burying in your ass, he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them above your head, placing his mouth against your armpit, licking away the beads of sweat hidden there and growling against your skin.

“Jo…fuck. Joel.”

“Mmmm?”, he growled.

“The sounds you make, when you fuck me. I…- fuck.. I feel so full - …I love these sounds.”

For the first time, you thought you saw a loss of control in him, and you tried to catch his gaze. When he froze inside you and shot the hot spurts of cum into your ass, all you could think about was the dark waves you were floating in, and you came a second time on his cock.

You got dressed and as you were leaving he grabbed you, holding you against him like no one had ever done before. He held you so tight that it was painful, but you would have let him crack one of your ribs if it would allow you to continue this embrace. When he released you, you tried to meet his gaze again, but he had already turned away from you.

When you got back to your apartment, you knew you were screwed. Fucking with him, letting him use you in any possible way, was no longer enough.

Part 2

********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

527 notes · View notes

bakubunny · 5 months

Text

“such a pretty girl….”

a/n: an anonymous gremlin request was sent in a little over a month ago for bnha characters calling f!reader pretty girl, and how could i turn that down? a couple of these have mini drabbles, but it’s mostly just hcs.

cw: f!reader, degradation sort of (kats), rough oral (kats), rimming (m receiving) & facials (eiji), mention of daddy kink (izu), slight dacryphilia (hitoshi), l-bomb (multiple)

katsuki

“look at you, such a pretty girl f’me,” katsuki taunted, staring down at you as he gripped you by the hair and fucked your mouth. you certainly didn’t feel pretty with tears and snot on on your face, drool and precum running down your chin with your jaw wide open. but behind his taunting, the thread of adoration in his eyes told you all you needed to know. heated need washed over you as he continued.

i feel like katsuki would use this genuinely to praise you but also as a way to taunt/humiliate if you’re into that.

you’re most likely to hear it when you feel the least pretty - totally fucked out, sweaty, and making the ugliest sex faces known to man - because he loves seeing you like that.

i feel like he’d use the same line “look at you…” when you get all dressed up for a date or he just likes how you look that day. cue him spinning you round and wandering hands and kisses.

eijiro

“hey pretty girl, look at you! that dress looks so good, baby,” he said he drank in the sight of your dress. “gosh, you always look so sexy. i can’t get enough of you.” eijiro planed a kiss on your lips. “can’t believe i’m the lucky man who gets to have you by my side…”

one of his favorite nicknames for you. it just rolls off the tongue easily and he loves the way it instantly makes you smile and blush a little.

i’ve already said that eijiro is a known pet name abuser. if he knows it does something for you, you can bet he’s using it all the time. it’s an odd day if he walks in the room and you don’t hear some iteration of “hey, pretty girl,” with a cheeky grin.

he loves using it in bed in the best and worst ways. you could be looking up at him so sweetly while he’s making love to you, maybe while you’re riding his cock and he just loves your gorgeous face and body, perhaps he truly can’t express the depth of your beauty….

but it’s also when you’re drooling and fucked dumb, creaming on his cock… when you’re on your knees covered in spit and precum, begging him to cum on your face… when he’s got you soaking wet and spread so wide it hurts as his face glistens with your arousal…when he’s groaning, whining even, as he pulls your face deeper into his ass as he fists his cock…. “fuck sweetie, such a pretty girl, my pretty girl. mmf-fuck, love you so much, baby. my good girl…”

izuku

cw: this has a sprinkle of daddy!izu on the last one. 🖤

pretty girl is a nickname he likes but it’s not one of his go tos unless he knows you really love it. so the more you melt a bit whenever he says it, the more he’s gonna say it.

while the no. 1 hero can be a menace when he wants to be, it’s truly just a sweet, innocent thing most of the time. he’s got his signature bright eyes and boyish grin every time he greets you with, “hey, pretty girl, how are you?”…. it just so happens that that’s what gets you so worked up about it.

that said, he’s not afraid to whisper in your ear and tease you if he knows it’ll work… and boy, does it work.

also uses it in bed in both sweet and devious ways much like eijiro. he could be staring into your eyes, making love so sweetly, encouraging you to cum, or he’s got you flustered to high heavens, perhaps doing something more depraved than you’d ever thought you would do, especially for a man so sweet as izuku. there’s no in between. either way, you’re gonna hear, “that’s it, pretty girl. you can do it.”

this is probably the nickname that makes you slip up and call him daddy i’ll be honest. it’s either that or princess, i can’t decide. it’s in a casual setting and you’re alone with him. you both freeze. you’re embarrassed. he’s simultaneously questioning everything he’s ever known about his kinks, blushing stupidly hard, and imagining breeding you right there against the kitchen counter.

shoto

it’s a general nickname at first. he’s totally clueless to you getting flustered until he watches it happen… and he eventually puts it together when you tell him you like it when he calls you that.

he’s the type to murmur it sweetly in your ear when he’s talking to you about something or snuggling. “what’s that?… i love you too, pretty girl.”

if you want to hear it in bed, just ask. shoto’s not clueless but he needs you to be very clear and give a little guidance on what you want. once he sees how you react to it, he’ll keep it up.

during sex, it’s usually when he can look into your eyes and tell you occasional sweet nothings… he’s not much of a talker, but he will certainly try if he knows you love it. but don’t be fooled, he’s not one for lovemaking until you introduce him to it; he’s gonna be pounding hard and fast any time he tells you you’re “such a pretty girl, baby,” and making your head spin.

hitoshi

pretty girl is more of a tease or a taunt than anything else. he means it, but he’s doing it to get you worked up. he may not have a reason to get you worked up, but it’s still fun.

sometimes he just likes to compliment you and he knows this one will make you smile in that adorable bashful way. so he uses it.

also likes to use that nickname when he’s railing you and he can see your face. he’s surprisingly romantic and intimate in a long term relationship.

it makes you flush bc it reminds you of the many, many times he’s grabbed your face with his hand while you’ve got your legs around his waist, balls clapping your ass. “hey, pretty girl… i love you, my favorite girl…. that’s it, you’re so pretty when you cry, doll. i know it’s a lot, but you can take it, yeah? good…. be a good girl and tell me if it’s too much….”

denki

as i stated and promised to elaborate here, when denki calls you pretty girl, he’s not referring to you. he’s talking about your pussy. he’ll say “hey pretty girl,” when you walk up to him or “there’s my pretty girl,” when you sit in his lap. and much to the cluelessness of everyone else, you’re not that easily flustered. you just know he’s only talking about the pussy he’s rutting into gently when you sit.

started when denki had your legs spread wide for far too long with his hands and his mouth between your thighs. he was fingering you to the brink of another orgasm with an audible squelching from your juices and said, “there’s my pretty girl… y’hear that, lovebug? she’s talking to me, making the prettiest sounds….” you clenched around his hand so hard that he hasn’t looked back since.

now he talks to your pussy any time he’s in bed with you. he still talks to you, but the way you get so shy and hide your face, the way you cum so hard when he flusters you from that is the only reason he needs to keep it up. he thinks it’s adorable how shy you get about the body he loves so much (yours).

inspired by @jazzafayesworld: denki loves it when you go to get togethers or smth without panties because then he gets to tease you quietly about how his pretty girl is so adventurous for him, does she want to be played with under the table or in his lap? it’s so tempting when she’s right there, naked under his fingertips….

if you’d like to join my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @gold24fish @pastelbakugou @nuttyunknowndetective

#this is a bit shorter than i planned but i wanted to get this out #bakubunny #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero #kirishima eijirou #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha #mha #x reader #f!reader #midoriya izuku #aged up characters #kaminari denki #shinsou hitoshi #todoroki shouto

571 notes · View notes