#*says something that everyone over the age of like 20 already knows*

[s-4pphics]

a friend in need! (e.w.)

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask? 

WORD COUNT: 5k

WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(

A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest. 

Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for. 

Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing. 

Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “

“Can you help me down, please?” 

Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh. 

“Oh, shit… c’mere.” 

Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg. 

“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper. 

When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams. 

A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders. 

Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”

She breathes. “Peachy.” 

Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.” 

“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.” 

Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile. 

She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?” 

You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.” 

One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home. 

“What’s up with them?” 

You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.” 

“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.” 

“Damn… How’s she doing?” 

“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”

“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?” 

“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them. 

“See ya.” You wave awkwardly. 

Weird. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently. 

You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner. 

Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer. 

Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?” 

Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you. 

Silence. 

You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “

“Dina’s pregnant.” 

He didn’t tell you that.

Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit. 

No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left. 

“What.” 

Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks. 

“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.” 

Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly. 

You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina… 

And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one. 

Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.

“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.” 

You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.

“Guess.” 

But you don’t have to... Fuck. 

Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend. 

“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?” 

You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.

“There’s no misunderstanding.” 

Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.

“… Sorry, man.” 

“I don’t care.” 

Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.” 

“Can we go?” 

Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes. 

You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “

An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.

Roll!

Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for, 

“TOMMY!” 

A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine. 

“You seen ‘Gene anywhere?” 

Your grin widens at his disapproving stare.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!” 

“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.

Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.” 

“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.” 

The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning. 

You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly. 

“Again? Really?”

You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “

Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “

“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “

“You’re the fucking worst.” 

“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…” 

A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!” 

Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable! 

“Why’re you looking like that?” 

When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one. 

You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space. 

Another lightbulb. Not a green one. 

“Have you ever watched porn?” 

She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle. 

“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.” 

You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote. 

A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin. 

You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”

“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat. 

“Remind me to thank him.” 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book. 

She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?

More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t. 

… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl! 

“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin. 

“Thank you.” 

Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!” 

“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “

Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!” 

You sigh when her expression flattens. 

“Ellie…”

“Yes?” 

Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay. 

“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “

“Aren’t all his drawers special.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.” 

Her red eyes widen, but she silences. 

“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?” 

Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?” 

“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”

More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you. 

“You’re lying.” 

“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?

Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle? 

What the fuck, Eugene. 

“Oh, shit.” 

Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie! 

Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?” 

You snort, “Are you asking me?” 

“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?” 

You shrug, “Find out.”

One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out. 

High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs. 

This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” 

She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.” 

You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one. 

“Can we…” 

You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?” 

“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…” 

“Tell me.” 

“Later.” She whispers. 

You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.” 

A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips. 

Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen. 

“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”  

You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?” 

“I…” 

But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure. 

“Lemme guess… She look like her?” 

If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam. 

“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”

There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs. 

Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed. 

“Tell me who you’re looking at.” 

“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.” 

Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will. 

“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.” 

“You like that kinda stuff?” 

“How the fuck would I know?” 

You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral. 

Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her. 

Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—

S-Stop staring at me. 

It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her. 

And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs. 

The sight on the screen is new, even for you. 

It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half. 

Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen. 

Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another. 

Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.

A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch… 

And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing. 

Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke. 

Lemme see. 

Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb. 

That’s how you do it?

Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches. 

Show me how. 

Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle. 

You first. 

You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely. 

Not the fucking plan.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling. 

The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are. 

Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours. 

“Hm?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Hm.”

Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again. 

Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her. 

Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it. 

Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine. 

Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience. 

The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.

When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.

I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.

Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan? 

Cum w-with me? 

Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger. 

Ellie, watch a movie with me? 

Ellie, do a puzzle with me? 

Ellie, go on a walk with me?

Ellie! Ellie! Ellie! 

What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise. 

Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more. 

Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you. 

Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek. 

Can’t wait to feel you on me. 

Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s. 

Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —

Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out. 

I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen, 

Cumming for you, oh shit—

You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs. 

“Lay down.” 

“H-Hm?” 

“Lay down,” you croak. 

And she does, eyes filled with carnality. 

The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion. 

You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

“Hold still.” 

You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.

“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.” 

“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “

She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger. 

She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches. 

Why did you kiss them, though? 

It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her. 

Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.

“Sor — sorry — “

Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “

And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest? 

Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands. 

“Hey…”

You meet her eyes. 

“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.” 

Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction. 

Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?

It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something. 

“I can walk you back!” 

“I got it. I’m not going straight home.” 

Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping. 

She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed. 

Tears rock you to sleep, and you’re not sure why. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡

#ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

[joelsgreys]

fall into temptation | three

Post Outbreak Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter! Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you were underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

[dev1lm4n]

moth to flame

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!

Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.

She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.

She’s a cute kid, you decided. 

You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.

It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?

You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒

“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”

The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.

“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”

Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.

“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.

“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”

He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.

“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.

“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”

That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.

“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”

The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.

“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“I’m home.”

Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

“Oh! You’re here!”

You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.

“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”

You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.

A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.

You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.

“What’re you up to all evening?” 

His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.

“Studying.”

“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”

No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Think so,” you hummed softly.

“Poor thing.”

Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.

A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.

You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.

Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.

You didn’t want him to stop.

You wanted him to touch you more.

To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.

To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.

You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.

“You feel better?”

When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Much better.”

“Good then, kiddo.”

The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.

“I’m not a kid.”

“No?”

He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.

“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.

“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”

“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”

The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.

It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.

As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.

“What are you cookin’ up?”

You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.

“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”

It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.

“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.

“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”

You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.

A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.

A sharp sting shot through your hand.

Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.

“Shit..”

Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.

However, fate had other plans in store.

“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”

You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you. 

He was your drug.

One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.

With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.

His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.

The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead. 

“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”

“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.

“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”

What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.

“Of course, Mr. Miller.”

The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?

With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door. 

If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you. 

Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.

Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.

He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.

His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.

He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.

In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.

With bated breath, he continued to observe.

Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.

His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.

Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.

Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.

“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.

Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?

“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.

He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.

“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”

Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.

Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.

Cock sore and in need of relieving.

Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock. 

The video you're watching to get yourself off.

They were his.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Winners Always Win (Take It All series) - Max Verstappen

Current/Ex!Lewis (also massive age gap)

Summary: Lewis dating a woman in her early 20s was controversial, but he promised her nothing would ruin what they had. What he didn't expect was for the Dutchman who took his title to take his girlfriend.

This is for the girls who love a bit of controversy and definitely love a bit of villain!Max

Part 1 - When I Speak. He Listens.

Part 2 - So I'm The Villain

Part 3 - No Point in Fixing It

Part 5 - They’ll Never Shut Up

Y/n knew that she was going to be delivering a blow to the ego. But she feels like Lewis has to suspect there's something is going on here.

They walk into the hotel room where she already had her stuff removed, though it's not so obvious upon first glance.

"Lewis..." Y/n murmurs as he continues to walk inside and she stops at the door after closing it. "We need to talk."

"Can it wait? It's kind of late, baby." Lewis states before turning and seeing her expression. "Ok. Ok. We can talk."

"Lewis...I can't keep doing this anymore. I think...I think we need to stop. Now." Y/n explains trying not to let her voice shake with her words. She has to be confident, put her foot down.

"You're breaking up with me?" Lewis questions looking almost void of emotion? He doesn't look sad or angry but just blank. "Is it Max?"

Translation: Not quite as subtle as you thought you were being.

"He's using you. The two of you will be over because he's just using you to prove he can have anything I have." Lewis states while y/n swallows thickly, trying not to wince at the below freezing temperatures of his tone. "You can leave, we can be done. But he's not going to love you in a way that's worth it."

Y/n feels a fizzle of angry, her guilt and sadness of having betrayed him so unintentionally replaced with upset that he thinks he knows what is happening.

"Then I guess I'm not losing or gaining anything by leaving you for him." Y/n states then turning reaching for the door handle.

"Guess everyone was right about you." Lewis comments making her freeze and tears well in her eyes. "All about the money and fame for you."

"If you had ever paid attention, you'd know your attitude about all those people saying that is how we got here. Telling me to just ignore vicious attacks on MY character when I have only withdrawn and kept further out the spotlight than any other girlfriend in the paddock. I wanted to be here only to support you but being continuous ripped into by wolves and your solution being not to defend me or tell them how I've never accepted a penny of your money but instead to just ignore them." Y/n seethes feeling her anger overwhelm her entirely, fists clenched as she spins around to look at Lewis who seems stunned by her words. "Next time you are lucky enough to find yourself in a relationship. Do not neglect them when they tell you multiple times that there's an issue."

As if Vegas wasn't cold enough the room had dropped even further than that from the atmosphere's tension.

"Now if you're done being just as sickening about me as your fans. I think you've taught me a lesson not to trust the ones who are labelled as a gift from god." Y/n states grabbing the door and leaving before Lewis has a chance to say another word.

She closes the door behind her softly, not wanting to gain any attention but the reality of what she did just slaps her in the face.

-

Max was waiting up for y/n, he's already suspected that things going down with Lewis wouldn't be as smooth sailing as y/n was really hoping for.

"It's alright." Max whispers as she appears at the door way and falls against him in a heavy hug.

He doesn't want to ask what was said, whatever it was was bad enough to gain tears and he doesn't want to pour salt into a fresh wound.

"How about we get into bed, get to sleep and we can leave later for Abu Dhabi?" Max offers making her nod a little since she is more than ready to get out of there.

"You want me to come to Abu Dhabi?" Y/n questions with unease as he slowly guides her over to the bed and she looks at him looking like she's about ready to cry again.

"If anyone has anything to say about it. They can speak to me directly." Max shrugs watching y/n soften a little. "Sleep on it. You can decide tomorrow. If you don't want to I'll book a flight to Monaco and you can hide away from the cameras with my cats."

Y/n finally cracks a smile and there's plenty of comfort that he finds in that.

"I definitely need sleep." Y/n yawns making Max hum in agreement since that Vegas race was fun but equally in the middle of the night it's long and tiring with jet lag. "Did my stuff get brought over?"

"Yeah, it's just in the closet." Max nods while y/n looks at him for a moment then standing up forcing him to move back before she finally does the one thing that they both feel they've waited for.

A kiss.

They both melt into it with the heat of their bodies finally warming them from the chilly night air they'd spent so much time in after the race.

"Alright, I needed that. I really needed that." Y/n sighs softly before she smiles up at him. "I'm going to change and then curl up, pass out and hopefully be able to cope with being awake tomorrow morning."

-

Y/n slept on it and ultimately she didn't think it would be wise for her to attend the Abu Dhabi race. Though it hurt to miss the last one, she didn't need to spit in Lewis' face by appearing as his girlfriend in Vegas and then moving on so swiftly to Max the next.

But she did find herself being dropped off by Max in Monaco, left in the company of his multiple cats all of whom took to her like she'd been there always. Honestly it was a nice feeling, just winding down and settling.

Of course, she saw there was already rumours of her break up with Lewis. Privacy in F1 last as long as a second is really asking too much and she knows that.

Max, as expected, won Abu Dhabi with ease. Then he returned to Monaco for only a couple days.

Then he flew out taking y/n with him to the Honda event where it's safe to say Daniel Ricciardo didn't hide his shock over her presence by Max's side. Though no one commented on it directly, there was no hiding the confusion and later realisation.

But that event ended and Max took y/n back to Monaco having every intention of keeping her there.

With the season having come to a closing end. The ripples of all sorts of drama were being brought to the surface. But Max and y/n had thankfully gone overlooked even with her break up from Lewis not being so ignored. The 7 time champion had been shamelessly been showing himself online like he was doing a mating dance to the masses. It was a habit he'd stopped during their short-lived relationship but his newly single again status seemed to provoke him into flexing everything he could.

However, secrets can't be kept forever and when she accidentally appears on Max's stream. The world falls into meltdown. At least in terms of the F1 community online.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x you #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv1 #mv33 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 #red bull racing #red bull #red bull f1 #red bull formula 1

[littledollll]

Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

_______________________________

“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

#larissa weems #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems x f!reader #gwendoline christie #larissa wednesday #larissa weems wednesday #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa

[jjmaybankswifeyx]

don’t play with me princess

zach justice x fem!reader

warnings • smutty smut smut, zach : daddy, kissing, use of yn, pet names, oral sex, flirting, angst, jealous zach, swearing , 18+

summary: you went on dropouts after being friends for years and him begging you for ages to come the podcast , you finally give in and things kick off.

*zach has his own place in this*

you were messaging zach all last night about the podcast, what time to come etc he was being so sweet telling you he’s gunna be with you the whole time but knowing zach he will probably bully you for it tomorrow on the podcast “i’ll be fine” you mumbled before dozing off to sleep.

you wake up at 11:06 to zach phoning you making sure your awake as you always sleep in, unfortunately you had just woke up and had an hour to get ready and leave as you had to be there for 12:30 and it takes 20 minutes to get there “yea you just woke me up” you say rolling out of bed “good can’t have my star guest not come” he says, you hang up the phone starting to get ready doing a natural look as you didn’t have time nor effort to do a glam look, once you finished your makeup you chose your outfit then left.

you got there about 5 minutes before the pod started saying hi to everyone “omg yn” alyssa shouts across the room running towards you engulfing you in a big hug “alyssa ahh i missed you so much” you say with a massive smile “alright alyssa she’s mine calm down” zach says appearing around the corner with a smug little smirk on his face “oh shut up zach” turning around to face alyssa again and walking into the studio.

“hello welcome or welcome back to dropouts today we have an extra special guest, my girlfriend yn y/l/n” looking at u in shock “oh you wish” looking at the mic “i do i really do, so yn” your quick to answer as your nervous as what hes gunna say “yes zach” already dreading the question “how have you been” relieved with this you start to smile “yea it’s been great honestly i’ve started my own clothing line and makeup and it’s going great!” smiling knowing how far you’ve come “wow that’s great! any boys recently ?” jared says adding to the convo “oh jared you know” you say winking at him before you both start bursting into laughter, you look over at zach and he looks like he’s burning a hole into your brain, he looks mad ? you chime in “no guys i’m jk don’t clip that” you say with a nervous laugh zach still does not look impressed until he spits out “oh yn you wouldn’t even kiss jared on the cheek never mind do the devils tango with him” smirking you reply “oh and how would you know that” he stares at you for a second “okay guys if your not subscribed to the patreon you get a 7 day free trial, you get extra bits from these podcasts also you get them earlier plus extra videos like the drunk episodes when we get me and some other people drunk and try spill some secrets” you just look at him unimpressed as he carries on.

by now your on the subject of sex and relationships jared talking about this girl he is going out with tonight and how he would love to have something with her as theyd been speaking for months “yea jared i think you just gotta go for it, no woman wants a man who takes their time, and they don’t want to beg for it either ” you say giving him a woman’s perspective “oh yn you were begging for it last night” zach says smirking earning an oh and oh shit from jared and alyssa you just completely gobsmacked on what this man just said to you “oh please like i would go to you for that your probably not even as good as you make out zach, actually alyssa can you relate to this a man always says he knows what he’s doing yet he can’t get it in the right hole” jared and alyssa start laughing hesring a very quiet yes from alyssa as zach says “oh trust me i know what i’m doing” you didn’t look impressed “hm ye still don’t believe it sorry zach” he’d had enough at this point he wanted to throw you over his shoulder, take you upstairs and prove it while you were screaming out his name “don’t play with me princess”, jared just gasped and alyssa just started laughing you however just turned over and said “of course i’m gunna mess with you other wise your gunna wind me up so” looking over at him letting your eyes drop for a mere second you saw him readjusting himself seeing a massive bulge in his pants looking up with him smirking at you.

alyssa and jared start having a conversation about something i’m not sure what i was zoned out thinking about what zach said and his bulge until you were pulled out by zach coming closer to you wanting to whisper something “i’m gunna fuck you so hard after this your not gunna be able to even speak and say i didn’t know what u was doing, you understand me gorgeous?” you nod while backing away just smiling jared and alyssa obviously caught on “um guys what you saying over there” knowing you were caught until zach chimes in “oh i was just asking yn about something i heard about her clothing line and it’s true but not able to say sorry. it’s a secret” you sigh knowing zach just saved your ass and his.

after 1 hour of you and zachs glances you started you flirt with jared to get a reaction out of zach, must say he contained himself pretty well until the pod finished you said your goodbyes to jared and alyssa claiming you were gunna hang out with zach for a while as you haven’t seen eachother in months they believed it obviously as it is true you did miss him but you needed him now, as soon as they walked out that door you said “so you gunna prove it to me or what?” walking over to him looking up batting your eye lashes without a word he smashes his lips into yours quietly letting out little moans and gasps as he picks you up taking you to his room he throws you on the bed hovering over you “hm you look so good today” moaning while he’s kissing your neck “you too baby, wanted to have my way with you since i first met you” you moan against his touch not knowing this as you thought you guys were just friends with the occasional flirt “take your clothes off princess wanna see you” he says throwing his shirt some where across the room, after hearing those words you have never done something quicker you were lying there naked while zack still had his jeans on he slowly started kissing down your stomach reaching down to your bare dripping pussy “this wet already baby? hm someone’s needy” saying with a grin before you could answer he dived into your pussy sucking your clit making you scream out in pleasure “hm zach more baby please” he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you sucking and licking your clit, you could hear his tiny little moans and the vibrations coming off, “could jared eat your pretty pussy like this baby?” he says hint of jealousy in his voice you shake your head unable to focus “words princess” he says picking up his pace “no! daddy you do it better than anybody” you say about to come until he stops what he’s doing and looks up at you “what did you just call me?” you now are very embarrassed yet the words come out you couldn’t stop it “d-daddy” he smiles looking at you “fuck princess i cannot do this i need to be in you” you sigh then spreading your legs for him as he unbuckles his belt letting the cold air hit your core “fuck gorgeous such a good girl for daddy” he says slipping into you, he’s massive so much bigger than you thought “fuck daddy your huge” that just gives him a boost and he starts picking up the pace, “oh baby you don’t how long i’ve wanted to do this” he says moaning in your ear “me too daddy needed your cock for so long hmm” screaming without a care who heard you “your mine princess” you moan at the words nesrly making you cum alone “all yours daddy” you say trying to fight for breathe “what princess didn’t quite hear you?” ramming into harder and deeper “i’m yours daddy all yours!!” shouting even louder before he utters “good girl” as his thrusts get sloppy “where do you want me beautiful” without even thinking you say “in me daddy i’m on the pill” he does a couple more thrusts before you both are cumming the hardest you ever have, nobody has ever made you feel this way and you loved it, he pulls out of you now all cocky “that prove it to you huh” saying all confident “wasn’t even that good” you say smirking “hm i wish i could believe that but your moans and words say different gorgeous” he says before getting something to clean you both up.

as you were laying there he says “i meant it you know” you look up at him confused “your mine now, not letting you go” you just kiss him as you fall asleep tangled up together.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

hope you guys like this, i am currently on the ganja writing this so i apologise if there’s any mistakes or anything❤️❤️

#zach justice #zach justice smut #zach justice x reader #zach justice and tara yummy #zach justice podcast #dropouts podcast #jared bailey #alyssa ali bert i #smut #youtube #podcast #jealous #drew starkey smut #colby brock smut #jake webber smut #jj maybank x reader

[hellfire--cult]

Eddie Munson x Cosplayer!Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI sexual tension and possible smutty filthy part 2 for this

I just needed to show my nerdyness with all of you and I can assure you that Eddie would get fixated with a cosplayer, and much more if she dresses of the stuff he likes.

I will link pictures of the stuff I mention that you people might not know of, but I put descriptive information to the outfits and cosplays.

Plot: Eddie hates conventions, never went to one even, but a certain cosplayer changes his idea of it.

remember to reblog pls thank u.

Cosplay for me

Eddie Munson was never a person to go to conventions.

He never went to one before, in his life. He was never interested in them, but it was because he believed it was too crowded and he was told many times that there is always a putrid smell from sweat. Of course, there’s also memes about it online, so he always thought conventions were dirty, and he decided to never go to one.

That is until Mike Wheeler falls sick and Dustin has an extra ticket for Indiana Comic-Con. Dustin knew there was absolutely no chance with Steve, and Mike was the only one of the bunch that had his license. Eddie always cursed at Dustin for not having a driving license at the ripe age of 18, but the younger man always says he doesn’t really like the idea of driving. 

So he makes everyone chaperone him around.

That’s why Eddie was now in line to go into the building with a very excited Dustin Henderson next to him.

“There’s so much DnD stuff in here Eddie… There are limited editions of stuff too, like figurines with lots of discounts on anything you like!” Eddie just rolls his eyes at his friend, wanting anything but to look at stuff in the stands. 

“You told me that already…” He looked around to see the different types of crowds. You had kids, adults, teenagers and even elderly. He was surprised to see a couple dressed up as Leia and Han Solo and that’s when he noticed the amount of cosplayers that were there. Some of them you could guess it was their first one, and some were extremely detailed, surprising Eddie completely. 

When they finally got inside, Eddie tilted his head with confusion as he thought everything was going to be crowded, but it was very spacious and there were many areas of the different stands, people actually having some respect to not push through to look at stuff. He looked at Dustin who was mesmerized as he looked all around and then his eyes widened as he spotted the sponsor he wanted to show Eddie.

“Look Eds!” Eddie looked at where Dustin was pointing at and his eyes widened as he looked at the stand that was filled with DnD figurines, dice, boards, and everything you could possibly get for the game to be even more thrilling. He was magnetized towards it and he had to hold himself back as he looked all over the merchandise. He settled for a squishy 20 dice that looked cool with all the red and black swirls and then for a resin one that had liquid inside and a moving ball with sparkles in the middle.

“Fucking sick…” Dustin smiled at his friend as they kept walking to the other stands. Eddie was not that excited for the rest of the things his younger friend was showing him, but he couldn’t deny that the small businesses made stuff that official merchandise doesn’t have. He looked towards the Netflix sponsor that was in the crowdest part of the building, frowning at it.

“What are you looking at?” Dustin asked as he followed Eddie’s gaze to see what he was staring at.

“I don’t know, something about a new show being aired soon. Didn’t catch its name. Something about things.” He shrugged as he kept walking and Dustin followed right behind. The next part Dustin was excited to see was the gaming area. 

Eddie didn’t have enough money to get a nice gaming pc, but it was decent enough, so he didn’t mind going into that area to look at the new releases and the many components you could buy for your PC. His eyes caught onto a large mousepad that had the eye of Sauron in the middle of it and he didn’t even hesitate when he purchased it. Dustin bought a new gaming mouse for himself and they left the area contently.

“You still hate conventions?” Dustin asks with a wiggle of eyebrows as they head outside for Eddie to have a smoke. The metalhead rolls his eyes as he puts down his bags to get a cigarette in between his lips and light it up, blowing the smoke into the open air.

“It does smell weird Dustin… One time is enough for me.” Eddie says and Dustin could only sigh at how hopeless his friend was. He really thought Eddie would like going to a convention with him because Eddie was into all of this stuff. 

“Really? Nothing appealed to you?”

“It’s the same sh–” And his eyes caught sight of something white that was walking through the crowd. His heart got caught in his throat as he saw the most beautiful thing he’s seen this whole day and nothing could beat it. The long white hair falling down her back, the elf ears picking out of it on the sides, the elf silver crown over her head, the white dress falling down her body as she kept walking.

Galadriel. From Lord of The Rings.

“Eddie?” Dustin followed his gaze until it finally landed on the Galadriel cosplayer, making him smile proudly. “Oh, that’s actually a famous cosplayer.” 

“What?” Eddie snaps his head towards Dustin and the younger boy keeps nodding and he finally says your real name. 

“She is very good with her fantasy themed cosplays. Here, I’ll give you her instagram.” Eddie didn’t even doubt it for a second as he handed Dustin his phone in order to look you up. His eyes bulged out of his skull as he browsed over your profile. 

There were armor cosplays, DnD cosplays, Legend of Zelda cosplays, some a little more explicit than the others, but it wasn’t bad. He gulped as he stared at one of your League of Legends cosplay. You were dressed as Miss Fortune, and your cleavage was making your breasts really pop out from the edges. He was almost drooling and he remembered he was with Dustin, hitting the follow button and remembering to keep stalking your profile later on. 

You were taking pictures with people and Eddie noticed how you were acting exactly like the character you were cosplaying as. Graceful and calm. Dustin laughed when a group of men, dressed as hobbits, ran over to you to take a picture and Eddie couldn’t help but smile as you all stood in character for the picture. He was amazed at the dedication which was even more than just putting a costume on. 

“Does she always go to conventions?” Eddie asks his friend and Dustin caught onto it, knowing Eddie had finally found something that interests him in the event. 

“She’s always invited. I said she was famous. She has a stand most likely if you want to go meet her and get a picture…” Dustin tries and Eddie immediately shakes his head, taking a puff out of his cigarette. 

“Nah, I’m good.”

He probably spent a good hour stalking all of your photoshoot pictures when he got home. 

He noticed that you also cosplayed stuff from many games and movies, and he almost died when he saw you in a Tomb Raider costume. You had over 52k followers on Instagram, and now he understood why Dustin said you were famous. You were a Cosplay Influencer, but you seemed genuine in your stories, and he couldn’t help but smile as you reposted many stories of people that took a picture with you as Galadriel. 

He kind of cursed at himself for not being able to be brave enough to get a picture with you. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Dustin… Though he kind of knew that his younger friend realized that he had hearts eyes for you the moment you walked out in the court. 

He wondered if he would ever have the chance to meet you, maybe even help you in a way. That’s when he saw the donation button in your Instagram page. It said that you were grateful for everyone’s collaboration and that every penny goes into her cosplays and into the fundraiser for Kids with Epilepsy she donates to. Eddie wondered if that was indeed true, because many influencers lie about that stuff.

For some reason though, he really did believe you had a kind soul.

So he donated what he could afford, which was only five dollars– but it was something.

He didn’t have to wonder if you were a kind soul for long. There was an Anime Convention being held in a couple of weeks, and you posted in your feed that you were invited and was going to have a stand to sell prints of your pictures and get to know everyone that wanted to take a picture with her. 

It was a coincidence that Dustin had another free ticket this time saying that he thought Mike liked anime, but it turns out that he didn’t and now he didn’t know what to do with that extra ticket. Eddie wasn’t going to pass the chance and took it without a second thought in mind.

He wasn’t a fan of anime, but the amount of ass and tits that he saw as he entered the building was insane. He knew there were very explicit animes out there, but what he didn’t know was that people dared to cosplay them in public. He almost wanted to cover Dustin’s eyes, often forgetting that his friend is no longer fourteen years old. 

“Holy fuck…” Eddie mumbles out as his eyes went from breasts, to asses, to another pair of breasts–

“Yeah, this is what you’ve been missing out on all these years. I told Steve to come so many times because trust me, I know he would love it.” Dustin chuckles as Eddie follows suit. He knew that Steve was a flirt, and yes, he was stupid for saying no to Dustin. Screw him now because Eddie was the one to always second Dustin to conventions now.

“I don’t know anything about what they’re dressed as…” He points at a few girls that are dressed with very tiny strings and underwear with a lot of plastic armor around them. “But fuck that’s hot.”

“That’s Kill la Kill.” 

“Dustin… I don’t care…” Dustin couldn’t help but laugh, nodding at Eddie to keep moving. He kept walking as his eyes couldn’t stop looking all over the place, not looking at where he was going, only for him to run into someone, plastic crashing onto his chin as he yelped in pain and stepped back in order to hold it. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” A muffled voice says, and he looks at the person he ran into, only to see a girl dressed in a black tight motorbike suit that fits her body like a glove. The zipper on her chest was pulled down slightly for her cleavage to show and he almost kept his stare there, but he snapped out as the girl moved and his eyes looked up to see her wearing a yellow cat bike helmet, a very black visor at front and the cat ears pointing up. Eddie can pretty much guess that’s what hit his chin.

“Yeah, don’t– Don’t worry about it.” Dustin immediately got in between them both and handed his phone to Eddie.

“Holy shit, your Celty cosplay is so perfect! Can I have a picture with you?” A muffled giggle was heard behind the helmet and she nodded. Eddie got the camera app out on Dustin’s phone as the girl and him got in position for the picture and Eddie almost laughed at how Dustin was taking his tongue out as she poked his cheek with her black latex glove. Eddie took the picture and handed the phone to Dustin.

“Thank you! And sorry again pretty boy!” She says to Eddie and he was taken aback by how straightforward she was as she skipped away. 

“I love that character, and her cosplay was fucking spot on.” Dustin looked at the picture with a smile to his face and put his phone back into his pocket. Eddie believed that taking pictures with cosplayers that were just minding their own business as they walked was a little bit embarrassing, but they didn’t seem to mind, but kind of seemed delighted by it. Dustin explained to him that cosplayers don’t have to be bothered if seen eating or resting, or if you see them heading for a bathroom. 

Eddie nodded in acknowledgement at that as they kept walking, and he watched Dustin purchase many figurines from animes he liked, and Eddie wasn’t going to lie but there was a particular figure he found interest in. It was a demon looking guy with big black wings, an apple in one hand and he was hunched over.

“Who’s this?”

“That’s Ryuk, he’s from Death Note. I told you to watch that one, you will like it.” Eddie hums in approval, and he acknowledges Dustin’s recommendation noting to watch that later. 

When he finally reaches the cosplayer gallery… His jaw almost drops to the floor. 

There stood that Celty cosplay girl only this time, her helmet was off. 

You were smiling as you signed pictures of yourself as people purchased them from your stand. He cursed at himself for not knowing it was you the person he ran into an hour ago because if he knew, he would have gotten a picture with you as well. 

“Wanna go say hi to her?” Dustin asks as he smirks up at his friend and Eddie just scoffs, shaking his head.

“No. She is just your typical internet influencer, asking for donations for–” He blinked in surprise when he saw a few people walking over to you with shirts that said something in the back. You were smiling wildly as you excitedly talked to all of them. All of these people were grown adults, a few elderly ones, and when he squinted his eyes he could see what the shirts said in the back.

‘Epilepsy Foundation’

They were all purchasing prints for you as you tried to decline it, not wanting these people to buy stuff from you as you shook your head. They all still purchased a picture for you, and then when they all got together for a picture that another cosplayer helped take for all of you, he saw these people with bands over their foreheads that said your name. Eddie’s heart warmed immediately as he saw you wiping a tear away as these people clapped for you. There wasn’t a camera on sight to catch that moment, making it more intimate and more genuine.

“Dustin… I think I fell in love.”

Eddie became a fan.

He knew it and he didn’t care. You were kind, amazing, beautiful and selfless. He was waiting for the next convention to happen in town knowing there were a few ones that were small, just for the people around the area. He also donated any time he could, even if it were two dollars, or three, maybe sometimes ten, but it was always something. 

He was now laying on his bed, scrolling through tik tok and that’s when he got the notification of you going live on Instagram. His eyes almost bulged out of his skull and he immediately, desperately, pressed onto the notification, directing it straight to your live. He almost sighed out in happiness as he saw your face coming onto the screen. There was little to nothing of makeup on your face and he was just mesmerized as you greeted everyone.

He deliberated if to say hi to you or not. He gulped as he typed out a small ‘Hey’ and a smiley face which made him cringe and delete it. Would it be too cold? He wasn’t believing that you would see it anyways, so he just sent it like that. You were still greeting people and your eyes perked up suddenly.

“Oh, hi Eddie! Thank you for donating all this time, I am grateful for that!” 

He couldn’t believe it as he quickly sat up on his bed. His heart was in his throat as he stared at the screen completely speechless. You acknowledged him. You noticed his username is the same one he uses for the donation app. You know about him and… Fuck did he have cringey photos in his instagram feed? He knows he has one with Steve and then one with Dustin but he doesn’t know if–

What makes him think you stalked his instagram page? He shook his head at the thought and took a deep breath in as he typed in another message. You were talking about your upcoming events and he pressed send to his message.

‘Hopefully I have the balls to ask for your picture this time.’

Another message he doesn’t think you will see with over five hundred people watching your live, and that thought was proved wrong once more when you giggled as you fake gasped with a hand over your chest.

“Am I that scary? Also, how’s your chin?” 

Eddie’s jaw fell open, instantly. Holy fucking shit. Holy flying fuck. You remembered him. You remembered him from when he ran into you with Dustin a month ago… You stalked his instagram profile. You did. You obviously fucking did. It seems that you noticed your mistake because he saw how your face flushed as you tried changing subject back to the next event you will be attending. 

He was speechless right now. He was sure that there were many people donating hundreds, way more money than he was able to give out, yet you noticed him for some reason? What does it mean? Why does he feel hopeful? What for? He gulped as he looked at the screen, and confidence rose up in his chest as he wrote the following message.

‘You forgot to kiss it better.’

And his confidence only grew when you responded to him again with a smile to your face.

“Well, remind me of that at the next con.”

He was pissed. 

He was extremely pissed. 

He was being dragged here and there at the convention because it wasn’t just Dustin this time. Mike and Will came along and he didn’t want to leave them alone because they were acting like little kids all over again, going from stand to stand, from game to game, and all Eddie wanted to do was to rush towards the Cosplayer Alley to be able to meet you. 

“I am hungry.” Mike voices out as he doesn’t even ask for the group’s approval as he walks out to the food court that was outside. Eddie groans heavily as his anger just keeps raising up, and he gets the cigarettes out of his pocket and tells Dustin to just stay put at the hot dog stand. He walked away from the tables people were sitting at eating just to be respectful for the smoke and then, when he was about to light up his cigarette, a small voice was heard from behind him.

“Hey… Can I have a smoke?” 

He turned around to clash eyes with colored lenses that were in a blue tone. White hair dripped down again, but this time a half braid was around the head and towards the back. A white dress that had black dragon wings at the torso that held a white cape over her shoulders. 

“Well shit, I can’t believe Daenerys Targaryen is asking for a smoke.” Eddie was surprised he could make a joke as you finally giggle, a smile spreading over your lips, walking closer to him. His hands were shaking as he held onto his pack and opened it for you to take one stick out. You put it on your lips and he raised the lighter up as you leaned forward to light the cigarette up. After a long inhale, you finally let it out, a curtain of smoke filling the air above you.

“Yeah… This costume is… doing something today and I needed to relax a bit.” You say shyly as you look down towards the floor. Eddie’s heart was beating out of his throat, taking a drag out of his own cigarette this time as he looked at you. He looked behind him to see a beverage stand, licking his lips as he squinted his eyes and then back at you.

“You want a beer?” He didn’t even know if you liked beer, but he felt cupid shooting another arrow towards his chest when you looked up at him excitedly with a nod. 

“I would like that…” You both walk to the stand to get a can of beer each, and you giggle as you guide Eddie to move to the back of the stand so that no one could see you in your cosplay having alcohol and smoking.

“So secretive.” Eddie says and he didn’t even care if the others couldn’t find him anymore. Hell, they can get lost and he will most definitely ditch them if it meant to have a moment with you alone. You giggle as you squinted slightly at his face, biting your bottom lip in thought.

“What’s… your name?” You asked it with a hint of doubt behind it but Eddie didn’t notice it, or didn’t think too much of it.

“I’m Eddie–”

“I KNEW IT!” Eddie's heart jumped out of his mouth at your scream, his eyes widening as he looked at you who was looking at him with the brightest of smiles. “I knew it was you! You are Eddie!”

“I mean, I am Eddie…” His confidence was skyrocketing again. You remembered him, definitely, from his face to his hair, and you even recognized him from just instagram pictures, which only led Eddie to wonder… How many times have you looked at them?

“The guy who doesn’t dare to take a picture with me.” You smirk as you take a sip of your beer while looking at him. He scoffs as he rolls his eyes at you, but happiness was just blossoming inside of him as he looked at you.

“I do dare, I just don’t do this convention shit so I was embarrassed at first.” You hum at his words, taking a drag out of the cigarette. 

“If you don’t like them, why do you attend?” You ask him with a tilt of your head, completely confused by his response. He was speechless, his worst stumbling out of his mouth as he thought of an excuse other than just blurting out ‘Because of you’.

“M-My buddy always needs someone to accompany him… For support.” At that you made an ‘Oh’ sound, giving him a nod in understanding.

“The guy that I took a picture with when I smashed your chin?” You ask with a giggle and he felt like dying at the sound of your lovely voice. He chuckles, nodding down at you as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Yep.”  You seemed like you wanted to say something to him but you held back, taking a sip out of your beer and Eddie could feel you ogling him over your cup. He wanted to ask the gods above if this was a trick of theirs, a stupid joke or a trial he had to go through because it wasn’t possible that a girl like you was looking at him with desire. It was impossible.

“Really… Then why did you come here if your friend… is with friends?” You were smirking now as he snapped out of his trance and you gave him a nod towards his back, making him turn around only to see Dustin laughing along with Mike and Will as they sat on a table eating their corn dogs. He winced in embarrassment as he turned to face you again.

“I am their ride.” He lied. He offered to be the ride. Mike told him there was no need, but Eddie refused. 

“And you are drinking?” 

“One beer isn’t going to kill me.” Eddie replies back and you were now looking at him, a small smile on your lips and Eddie had one thought only at that moment. One that he never thought of having. A thought that just came to him and now he realizes it has been a fantasy ever since he saw you.

He wants to fuck you in one of your cosplays.

“Oh… thought you were coming to finally ask to take a picture with me.” You say in a sultry tone as you took a drag out of your cigarette and Eddie immediately felt the tension growing between the two of you. He licked the inside of his bottom lip as he looked down at you. A smirk spread on his lips and he noticed how you straightened up, a small step forward going towards him. 

You were pure in his eyes, doing all this cosplay stuff, doing charity, being incredible with the people that followed you, but he never thought you would ever look at someone like him like this. He never thought you would be this willing at the first interaction you had with him… But if he was reading the signs right, and if he was daring enough, he might get to fuck Daenerys Targaryen. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday. So might as well–

“I actually came here to ask you for your picture… and a date.” 

And Eddie’s heart was taken away once more as you smirked at him, taking another step closer to him and you responded in a low and seductive tone that sent shivers down his spine and adrenaline started rushing inside of him. 

“I’m free after the event.” He took another step closer to you, and he noticed the intake of breath you took in, making him grin widely.

“Yeah, I think you promised to kiss it better… Didn’t you sweet girl?”

idk man, i just couldn't stop writing this, acknowledgement to all my cosplay girlies out there.

Smutty part 2? Let's hear at what Eddie should fuck her in.

#this came out of a vision #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot #cosplay!reader

[star-suh]

Don't Chew More Than You Can Swallow

Johnny Suh x Male Reader

cw: top johnny, pseudo-incest, underwear kink, musk kink, degradation, praising, breeding, hickeys, blowjob, deepthroat, manhandling, implied size kink, snowballing, age gap (yn is 20 and johnny is 25).

an: this is the other idea from @ldrei

also i was lazy to think about names for the mom and the stepfather so yuh.

—

“ok yn, i want you to put on a smile on that face we're almost near the house” yn's mom said while driving towards their new home.

some years ago yn was part of a loving and happy family until one day his father, an honorable police officer, died during a raid against a gang. yn and his mother were devastated, mourning his death for the next couple of months. but life goes on and we have to let go and move on, right? after like a year yn's mother started dating another police officer, months later they made their relationship official and decided to get married, which brings us to the beginning of the story, yn and his mother would move to their new home, where yn's new father and new brother, a 25 years old guy, live already.

“hello we're home” yn's mom greeted, “hey honey” yn's stepdad appeared and kissed her, “hey yn, how are you?”; “i'm good.. thanks” he replied, “glad to know that” the older man said with a smile on his face.

yn walked towards the kitchen searching for a glass to drink some water, “the cups are up there” someone said, yn turned around and there he was his new stepbrother “the name's johnny” he extended his hand and yn grabbed it to shake it, his hand was way bigger than yn's, “i'm yn.. n-nice to meet you” he laughed nervously, “i say the same, see you later then” johnny said winking at him and waving a goodbye.

a couple of months have passed, everything was going good for everyone except for yn. he was thirsting over johnny 24/7, when he walked around the house with just a short on and no underwear because he can clearly see his bulge swing around everytime he walks, his body is to die for ‘god i wish i could lick those abs right now’ thought yn. it was even more harder for yn to not think about johnny fucking him when he was on the room next to him rearranging some woman's insides, the banging sounds going straight to yn's ears, ‘i wish that was me’ he thought. and that's the only thing yn can do, fantasize about him because well… his stepbrother is straight.

johnny sent yn to search something in his room, he did as he was told but something catches his attention, a pair of underwears resting on a pile of clothes. driven by his impulses, he grabbed one and began to sniff it, his face immediately turning red and a bulge growing in his pants "johnny~" he moaned softly.

he went quickly to his room, locked the door and began to jerk off, wrapping the underwear around his cock sliding it up and down while biting a pillow to suppress the moans.

the weeks passed and yn's desire for johnny only increased. every time johnny brought someone home to fuck, while his parents were away, yn always masturbated listening to their moans.

one day yn was masturbating again with his the underwear until a voice interrupted him, "hey yn!" a shirtless johnny called opening the door with a bang "what the hell were you doing? i've been calling you for a while" he asked with a somewhat angry tone. "sorry johnny, what do you want?" yn questioned, "these last few months you have been the one picking the dirty clothes to take them to the laundry room, have you by any chance seen my underwear? they have been missing” he scratches his head. “i have no idea johnny” yn replied with a nervous laugh. “hmm… it's okay” and just like that, johnny left.

worried that johnny would find out, he grabbed all the dirty clothes and ran down to the laundry room. there he turned on the washing machine and placed the underwear there and just when he was going to press the button to start the washing cycle a big hand stopped him, a low and very deep voice whispered in his ear "i thought you didn't know where my fucking underwear was" the warm breath sending shivers down his spine, “you're such a dirty pervert yn” he laugh was deep and sexy.

“j-johnny i-i” yn didn't know what to do, “you thought you were slick with it but no, did you think i didn't notice how you stared at me every time i walked around the house shirtless, how your eyes went from my abs to my bulge, shit i even could feel how you fucked me with your eyes”. johnny positioned himself behind yn, his huge bulge rubbing against yn's ass, "even every night i fucked someone i could hear your slutty moans on the other side of the wall, how you moaned my name was… so sexy... now i kinda want to hear them again" the taller was leaving small kisses on yn's neck, he then took out his huge cock from his shorts and rubbed it on yn's clothed ass “do you want to taste my cock, yn?", his sexy low voice doing things down there on yn's crotch area.

“j-johnny” yn stuttered “i-i'm sorry” a little moan escaping his mouth. “if you want to apologize you have to take responsibility about this” he slams his thick heavy cock against yn's ass again. “y-yes” yn fell to his knees and started kissing the tip, using one hand to stroke the rest of the shaft while the other was stroking his own.

“you're so nasty yn, look at you sucking at your brother's cock. aren't you such a nasty slut huh?” johnny grabs his head and starts to mouthfuck him, forcing yn to deepthroat him, “come on you can do more than that, it's barely halfway in”, little by little yn swallowed it all, johnny locked his head with his arms. the gagging sounds being like music to his ears. “there you go, you're doing so good for me”.

johnny lifted yn and fold him against the washing machine, rubbing the tip of his cock in the other's hole “want me to destroy you, cockwhore?” he says once again using that sexy low voice that drives yn crazy “p-please~ do it”.

johnny was slamming so hard that the washing machine was moving too, yn's legs were shaking due to how good johnny was fucking him, "how does my little fucktoy feel.. is this what you wanted? my thick, heavy cock opening your ass?"; “yes johnny please wreck me” yn replied withiut thinking, “so desperate”.

johnny lifted yn and carried him from the laundry room to his bedroom but without stopping fucking him. the thrusts were slow but as powerful as the harsh ones because he always manages to brush yn's prostate with the tip of his cock, drawing whimpers out of his mouth that made johnny chuckle, ‘so cute’ he thinks.

they're finally on the bedroom, johnny throw yn towards his bed, attacking his neck with kisses and leaving some bruises here and there. his big, tall body towering over yn's. “i have a deal for you” the taller comments, “if you can take me without cumming you'll be my little fucktoy boyfriend. what do you think?” he keeps on kissing yn's body until he reaches the nipples and suck on them. “hngh i really w-want that” the bottom squirmed.

the fat cock went in and out, going in even harder than the last time, johnny's balls slapping against yn's ass “who's being a good cockwhore?” the top asks, “m-... me” yn struggles to answer due to the harsh thrusts “i'm johnny's g-good cockwhore”.

“but you're only mine right?”.

“yeah i'm only yours…”.

both sealed the deal with a gentle kiss, contrasting with the rough thrusts. “fuck i'm gonna cum” johnny growls, he took advantage of the fact that his cock reached so deep inside yn to make him cum, however he let himself be carried away by the moment and filled yn's ass up with that warm sperm.

yn barely managed to hold off his cumming so johnny now has to fulfill the deal they just made. "it seems like i'm your little fucktoy boyfriend now"; "i think so," johnny adds, “and a cute one”.

“you took me so well pretty boy, i think you deserve a threat” and as he said that he went down and started to suck yn's cock “j-johnny you don't have to~”; “mmm mmm, i want to, prince” the sweet name embarrasing yn so much that he covered his face with his arms, feeling the little chuckle the taller let out. with a few more strokes yn came inside johnny's mouth, “shit that's some good blowjob johnny” yn rode his high while johnny crawls up until he is face to face with yn, with one hand he opens the bottom's mouth and spits the sperm in there, then kisses and plays with it between their mouths.

johnny carries yn to the bathroom where they both take a bath, then get dressed and fall asleep in the bed.

“look at them, aren't they cute” yn's mom said watching them both sleeping while hugging, “yeah i think they're gonna be good brothers” the stepdad adds with a huge smile in his face.

#johnny suh x male reader #johnny seo x male reader #johnny x male reader #johnny suh x male reader smut #johnny seo x male reader smut #seo youngho x male reader #seo youngho x male reader smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut #nct x male reader #nct smut #nct 127 x male reader #nct 127 smut #nct u x male reader #nct u smut

[itsasilentreader]

My only girl

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Slytherin!reader

Summary:

Violet thinks she can get Sebastian in her bed at the end of a Slytherin party, but little does she know that he is your boyfriend whose heart is set on you and only you.

Warnings: alcohol/drug consumption, suggestive dialogue, maybe some curse words? idk anymore

Characters are aged up, 18+.

Wordcount: 3.4K

A/N: Use of Y/N, there are some descriptions about the outfit of the reader but if you want to imagine a different outfit, please do! I tried to write a reader who is more self-assured in her relationship because I like to read that once in a while. Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore all the grammatical errors in this one. I’m still editing and learning how to write dialogue so please bear with me!

It was finally Friday night and as per usual, one of the houses was throwing a party. As it was agreed to rotate every week, it was now time for Slytherin to host again.

You got ready with Natty and Imelda in the dorm room you shared with Imelda. As you were still deciding on an outfit and trying different pieces of clothing on, Poppy entered your room, out of breath. “Sorry, I know I’m late and I see you are almost ready. But I have a good enough reason to be late.” Imelda rolled her eyes, before focusing back on her make-up. Poppy gave her a light (friendly) shove as she walked past her towards your bed. “Oh stop that, will you.”

She set down her make-up bag and clothing before turning towards you. “Okay first of all, if you’re going with that green top you should wear that black skirt you got last month.” You looked at her through the mirror and nodded to her. “I guess you’re right, let me change into a skirt.” You turned towards your closet. Poppy nods and sits down. “Okay, the reason why I’m late is because I overheard Violet on my way here.”

This causes all three heads to turn towards Poppy. Imelda had eyeliner on only one eye as she stared at Poppy to continue. “If it caused you to be 20 minutes late, this should be something interesting,” Natty spoke up from the floor next to your bed, her eyes fixed on the mirror while doing her hair.

“It is,” Poppy nodded, “Okay, so you know how obsessed Violet is with Sebastian?” You scoff and give her a pointed look. “Even Ominis can see that and that kid is blind.” You turn your attention back to your closet and continue to look for the black skirt you want to try on with the top. Poppy rolls her eyes at your comment.

“Anyways, she said she is so sure she can get him into her bed by the end of the night. Seems like she really wants to make her move on him tonight.” This causes the girls to stop their movements and stare at Poppy. Imelda closes the cap on her eyeliner pen and speaks up, “So… she really doesn’t know Sebastian is in a committed relationship and head over heels for our lovely Y/N here?”

“Well, she did mention it is always difficult to talk to him because he is always with Y/N. Even went as far as to say that she doesn’t understand why he puts up with you” Poppy replied, the last part directed towards you. “That little-” you huff out when you turn around, skirt in hand. Changing into the skirt, and sighing when you think over the words Poppy just said. “I mean, we didn’t come out as a couple you know, so I’m not surprised she doesn’t actually know we’re together. And it is not like we act differently around each other now we are together. Besides, everyone already assumed we were.”

You smooth out the skirt and hum in approval of your outfit. “Yeah, everyone but Violet”. Natty says. “She even admits it is hard to talk to him because he’s always with you. Besides the point that he is your boyfriend, doesn’t she know he is not interested in her?” she continues, “Even before you came to Hogwarts in our fifth year, he always tried to avoid her at all costs. She is so overbearing.”

You sigh and walk over to your bed after approving your outfit. “Knowing Violet she probably wants to do it publicly so I would know she claimed him.” You sit down next to Poppy on your bed and start putting on your make-up. “Everything we do is a competition in her head, so this would be the same.” Poppy shifts on the bed and turns to you. “We all know Sebastian only has eyes for you, you don’t need to worry about that.” She smiles softly at you as she opens her make-up bag to quickly get ready.

“I know, I’m just a little worried about how far Violet will go.” Natty looks up to you from her seat on the floor. “You know we will hex her if she does something out of line”, you snort at her comment. “Imelda is just dying to do it for you, you know.” Natty says while Imelda smirks proudly.

“Okay enough about that ugly shade of purple,” you turn your attention to Poppy. “Are you finally making your move on Garreth tonight?” Poppy gasped lightly and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” only the blush spreading on her cheeks is telling you otherwise. “He asked if you were coming tonight” You looked into your hand mirror and applied your eyeshadow. “He did?” Poppy squeaked out. Clearing her throat she asked again, “He did?” Imelda locks eyes with you and smirks as you try to contain your laughter.

“Sooo…” She drags out, “I guess Y/N isn’t the only one going back to the dorms with someone tonight”. Poppy glared at her and scoffed. “Just let us know how it was in the morning, I am kinda curious about his dick,” Imelda commented nonchalantly. This causes you and Natty to bark out a laugh while Poppy stutters over her words. “Imelda, you’re gay.” Imelda barks out a laugh, before replying, “So? I might munch muff but I still acknowledge Garreth is easy on the eyes.” Poppy just huffs and focuses on her make-up. She mumbles something under her breath but Imelda drowns it out when she laughs at Poppy’s reaction again.

As you walk down to your common room, you can already feel the bass vibrating the walls. Muffled voices and music are heard down the hall and you are in desperate need of a shot, or two. You are sure Sebastian wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or jeopardize your relationship, but you still feel a bit uneasy because you know Violet will do anything to get what she wants.

As Imelda opens de door to the common room, you are met with a full house and someone sneakily pushing past you into the common room. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, as they already disappeared in the crowd.

The party is in full swing and fire whisky is flowing richly. You spot Garreth already, with some other Hufflepuff girl next to the fireplace. It seems like he already started mixing the fire whiskey and Mallowsweet. You can see Poppy’s facial expression fall when she follows your sight. It is no secret she is attracted to the red-headed Gryffindor. Poppy rolls her eyes and drags you with her to look for a bottle of fire whiskey. “I need a shot!” She yells over the music.

The other two girls follow and eventually get caught up by others and their conversations. You have yet to spot your boyfriend. While searching the room for his presence, Poppy helps you and herself to a shot of fire whiskey. After tasting the burning alcohol at the back of your throat, Poppy seems to have poured herself already a second shot. Filling up your glass, you both took another shot. Poppy seems to be in her head as she pours another one. “Okay hold on Pops, I think we should slow down on the shots after this one”. You pry the bottle out of her hands and pour yourself one last shot. “Last one,” Poppy said and downed it. “For now.” she mumbles after taking the shot.

The night went on and there is still no sign of your boyfriend. Suddenly you spot Ominis standing against the wall and walk up to him. “Have you seen Sebastian?”, you ask after you greet your friend. He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “He went to the bathroom a while ago, seems like he hasn’t found his way back yet.” You sigh and lean against the wall next to Ominis. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.”

“He better be,” you grumble next to your friend. “It’s just, Poppy overheard Violet and I just don’t want to see what she has planned tonight to get with Sebastian.” Ominis laughs at your comment and shakes his head. “That girl is as daft as a brush”. You chuckle at his remark and nod along, even though he can’t see it. “I know, let me know if you find him will you?” Ominis nods and lets you go on your way.

You walk back towards Poppy and see her finally talking to Garreth. It seems like they only have eyes for each other. The other Hufflepuff girl is long forgotten, as is her annoyance with Garreth from before. You watch how Poppy giggles at something Garreth says and slaps his chest. His hand comes up to hold her hand there and leans in slightly to hear her better. Her cheeks turn red when she notices Garreth leaning into her, her eyes widening a bit but her smile never falters.

You decide to search for your other friends as you walk by Violet. Her presence alone is enough to annoy you, but hearing her shrill voice greeting you makes it even more unbearable. You turn towards her and give her a fake smile as you try not to roll your eyes.

“How lovely to see you this evening, but I have noticed you’re not glued to Sebastian’s side. Did he get bored of you already?” She smirks and cocks her head slightly to the side. You scoff slightly and cross your arms. “Is there another reason you keep talking to me about Sebastian or are you just that obsessed?”. You see her eyes narrow slightly, seems like you’ve hit a nerve. “You know, I just don’t know why he keeps being friends with you. I mean, you always follow him around like a lost puppy. Is it still not obvious that he doesn’t want to be more than friends?” Her expression turns into a sympathetic one, albeit a fake one.

“And what makes you think Sebastian and I aren’t together already?” You feign innocence as you ask her the question. Curious as to what she will answer you take a step closer to the dark-haired girl. “I mean, you said it yourself earlier. We are always together, glued to each other’s sides. Who knows what goes down behind closed doors.” This causes Violet to scoff loudly. “You really think he would choose you?” she rather states instead of asking. You shrug innocently, awaiting her next move. Of course, you know for a fact that he would 100% choose you.

“I know for sure he needs someone who can challenge him, and of course, please him like he should be pleased,” Violet smirked at you. “Don’t you think?”, she taunted at you while tilting her head. Just the thought of her hands all over Sebastian made your stomach hurl, but hearing her imply that she thinks she knows how to please your boyfriend makes your blood boil. You scoff at her comment and roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you think you are the one who can do exactly that hm?”

Her eyes narrow slightly while her smirk falters at the tone of your voice. It is sharp enough to take hers down a nudge. Violet tries to hide her annoyance on her face, “We both know who he would choose when it comes down to both of us. Some are just,” Violet chooses her next words wisely, “better than others.” Shrugging her shoulders, she feigns innocence. The smirk reappears on her face.

This remark causes other students to stop their conversation and turn their attention to the altercation between the two Slytherins. Because of the small commotion that ensues, Imelda and Poppy appear next to you. Your eyebrows shot up at her comment. Before you could throw an insult at her, Imelda beats you to it. “At least Y/N doesn’t need to desperately throw herself at someone, just to get a smidge of attention.” That should knock her down a peg. Poppy just nods along with Imelda’s comment. Imelda is not one to hold her tongue, sharp as ever. It is not always celebrated but it can sure come in handy in times like these.

Her eyes narrowed again before spotting someone, be it your boyfriend, walking towards the commotion. Her sour expression disappears and a sickly sweet smile paints her lips. “ Well, well, well, speak of the devil,” her voice turning into a syrupy sweet one, replacing the ice-cold one she uses to speak with you. “Hey, handsome.” When Sebastian is close enough, her manicured hand shoots out to place it on his bicep to greet him. Slightly squeezing his bicep as she steps closer to him all while batting her eyes seductively. “This girl has no shame.” Imelda murmurs to you and Poppy.

His eyes follow her hand and frowns a little. “What is going on here? Ominis told me you girls are causing a fuss?” His head turns to you, and smirks. “What is it about?” You roll your eyes at the sound of his voice and his questions. He knows damn well that if you and Violet having a squabble, it most likely is about him. He knows how obsessed Violet is with him.

Every time there is a quidditch game, Violet tries to sit in the front row to cheer him on, next to you of course. She tries to catch his attention by cheering loudly for him, a little too loud. Always trying to be the first to greet him after the game and sitting close to him during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whenever you two are walking together or sitting together, she tries to come between you two. She even goes as far as to persuade the professors to switch partners if she is not partnered with Sebastian. Luck is almost always on your side as most of the professors brush her off and tell her to work with the student she was originally paired with. This girl was as desperate as one could be.

Sebastian is not going to lie, it does stroke his ego. Of course, it does when he sees how you react to all the things Violet is trying to do to your boyfriend. Your little huffs of annoyance, or the way you roll your eyes when you hear her shrill voice say your boyfriend's name. He loves it when you try to keep your calm when Violet wants his attention.

Although he likes to receive the attention, he won’t act on it. His heart is set on you and you know that. Nobody can compare to you and he makes sure you know that, in every way possible. Besides, he loves how riled up you are when Violet tries to make a move on him. He loves to see how possessive you can get and claim what is yours. The sex that ensues after makes him go crazy.

“Violet thinks that if you have to choose between us two, you would definitely go for her,” You shake your head a little, before continuing. “She is sure she knows how you should be pleased.” She snaps her head from Sebastian to you. Sebastian tries to hold back his laughter after seeing how Violet stares you down. Still standing a little too close to him, he takes a step back. “Oh, do you now?” You raise your eyebrow to challenge her as if to say ‘Go on, tell him’.

There is a slight pause before she answers him, “I can show you if you want.” as Sebastian takes a step back, she tries to take one step closer to him again. Her manicured nails trailed up to his bicep again and a sultry smile on her lips. “You should see and feel what I can do with my tongue.”

Imelda and Poppy greeted this remark with a loud laugh. Soon, Sebastian joined them. You, however, hate the way she speaks to him. She is trying so damn hard. Sebastian steps away from her grip and shakes his head. “I’m sure you can make someone else happy with that, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like it when you do that.” He turns to you and takes you in his embrace. Wrapping one arm around your shoulder and giving a quick kiss on your temple. “Hi, love”.

“Besides, this one right here is the only one I would ever want. Nobody compares.” You smile softly up to Sebastian. Even though you’ve been together for quite some time now, he still gives you those butterflies. How could he not when he just said in front of everyone, in front of Violet, that you are the one for him? That nobody compares to you in his eyes?

Violet’s shocked expression makes you stifle a laugh, and then it turns sour. “What?” she asks, “You two? For how long?” She almost stomps her feet, like a small child whose toys have been taken away. This time, Garreth speaks up from behind Poppy. “Everyone with eyes and Ominis could see it, Violet. You’re just daft.” His comment, albeit a snide one, is met with chuckles from those who’ve gathered to see what the commotion is about.

At this point, her face grows red from embarrassment and before she stomps off she looks at you. It looks like she wants to say something, but decides against it. She pushes her way through the small crowd and disappears to the girl's dormitory. Her friends flocked behind her.

“Well, that was something.” Poppy speaks up next to you and turns to Garreth, “The last comment might have been a little much”. Garreth just smirked down at her and shrugged. Before he could reply, Sebastian said, “No she did deserve it. She was a little too obsessed. Told her multiple times I wasn’t interested, even before I got together with this babe.” He wiggles his eyebrows as you roll your eyes. “Hm, turning to flattery now, are we?” He gave you a soft smile and leaned in for a quick kiss. Soon, everyone around you goes back to their conversations, games and dancing.

“Where have you been the whole time? I was looking for you.” You turn in his arms to face him completely. He sighs, “I know, I’m sorry. Ominis told me you were looking for me. Caught a fourth-year sneaking into the party when I came back from the bathroom. Had to get the little git back to his dorm.” You giggle with a shake of your head. “Ruining the fun for the younger ones now too?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“You know my heart is only set on you right?” Sebastian says to you as he pulls you closer by your waist. Your chests flush against each other as he looks down in your eyes. Your hands slide up his arms and to the back of his neck. Playing with the hair on the base of his neck, he leans into your touch. “I know, and I trust you completely. It’s just girls like Violet that I don’t trust.”

Sebastian nods slightly and drops his forehead against yours. “Well, I understand that. I mean, the guys are no different.” He gives you a soft smile before his eyes flicker down to your lips. “But, you know, if you want me to show you how much I love you, I’ll be happy to do so.” His eyes glimmer with love and lust and his soft smile turns into a smirk. His hands wander from your waist down to your ass and he squeezes slightly.

This makes you gasp and giggle into his chest. You tilt your head and capture Sebastian’s lips for a quick, soft kiss. You feel him smile into the kiss and when you try to pull away, he deepens the kiss. “Room of requirement?” He asks breathlessly when you finally pull away from each other. You nod eagerly and take his hand in yours to sneak out of the party.

Sebastian definitely showed you how much he loves you and your body until the early morning. And your altercation with Violet is long forgotten as Sebastian keeps reminding you; you are the only one for him.

Please let me know what you think of this one! All the likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fic #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow x f!mc #fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

#bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader smut #dbf!bucky #dad's best friend Bucky #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes #ps!bucky #ps!dbf!bucky #bucky smut #bucky fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #becca writes spice #this was somewhat fuelled by 'If you're too shy let me know' #I promise I'm not this arrogant #but there's just something about being told how good you feel #I'm not getting into it #you probably get it #anyway #writing at the minute really feels like when you go for a drive and you have your music on shuffle #and you end up skipping every song #because you don't know what you want to listen to and nothing is hitting the spot #I'm looking to write something very specific to scratch a brain itch but I don't know what that is rn #it'll come to me #and in the meantime #I'll keep looking through the notes app on my phone at all my unwritten ideas

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Konig brings you to his base. TW for the work: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in her early 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Dub-con smut

König had experience with women before. 

He is almost forty, he ought to have it – fellow soldiers, cute girls at bars, women that he met in the grocery store and wasn’t too awkward to strike a conversation about various milk types. He actually started to have sex much more when he joined KorTac – maybe it was his ability to splurge on expensive gifts for girls who liked it, or maybe it was the allure of a mysterious military man that struck something deep in the women around him. He has sex, maybe not every week or even a month, but it’s not like he can’t deal with his sex drive via jerking off. Every day. Sometimes even twice per day. 

Yeah, maybe he has a bit of a problem with his high sex drive that never got weaker while he aged, but it’s probably because of the adrenaline. His life is at the risk every day, so it’s only normal that his dick is as hard as it gets when he has a chance, right? 

Sometimes he wonders if there is something wrong with him. If there is some deep, horrible trauma that is buried within his heart from his childhood, school and his father. Something inside him is broken and there is no way of fixing that, no matter what his therapist would say so he would pay for new session and won’t question why the fuck he keeps getting pumped with pills and not something that would really help him. Sometimes König thinks that, maybe, he is not normal – and nothing in his life ever was. 

Then he looks at you – adorable, tiny compared to him, traces of tears plastered on your cheeks as you desperately cling to his body. He holds your life in his hands – both figuratively and literally, with how easy it was to make you lose your job and depend on him as much as he depends on you. How soft you are, how sweet and weak – he spent so much time among other soldiers, that he almost forgot how fragile civilians are. He can squeeze your neck and make you choke, he can put his fingers down and play with your tender flesh, making sure that you are nice and ready for him – or you two can just cuddle in his office, allowing him to just feel your body on top of him. 

König likes to think that he is calm and collected, has the highest patience out of everyone, and literally nothing can ever make him mad. He loves to think that he is respectful towards everyone, that even if his soldiers are afraid of him sometimes, ultimately he is a father to his men and a respectable figure in KorTac. 

So, when you are already one week in your official relationships – ever since you came to him and begged him to accept you – he likes to think that he had waited enough time for finally conceiving with you. He is a nice person, ultimately. He protects you, even if you don’t know it yet – he can be rather sneaky, he pays for your things – rent covered three months forward, all the bills are payed and send to your landlord, and every little thing that your heart might want is given to you. You are not asking for many things – he hoped for something really nice, like maybe a set of expensive lingerie or some new gadget that girls your age like so much – but all you ever asked for were mundaine stuff. 

König is totally fine with helping your grocery shopping, but he can’t hold it over your head every time you are too shy for his advances and asks to prolong talking stage a bit more, and he is already getting kinda frustrated. Kinda impatient. 

He likes to think of himself as embodiment of self-control, but getting off just your panties and things you leave at his base isn’t enough anymore. Especially when he was finally able to talk you into being a bit more close – your hands on his shoulders, your ass sitting perfectly on his lap as he strokes your hair and abandones lower part of his mask so he could feel your sweet smell without a barrier between you. 

Your hips are perfectly angled to rub his dick through the clothes. He feels like a pervert when he locks you in place and experimentaly shifts his position, rubbing into your softness even more. He feels like a completely disgusting monster who is using this sweet, naive and adorable civillian to his dark desires, but if people around here already knows that he isn’t the emodiment of good moral code, then why should he ever try to hide himself? 

You are soft, weak, tasty even – he doesn’t know it yet, but he would pay everything in his power to find out. He always thought that he loved power, strength, attracted to either soldiers from other units, who could get his adrenaline rush rolling, or confident people from pubs who could get through his awkwardness. You are not like this – you would never made it far in the military, probably staying on the level of some lowly nurse or data assistant – he would love a cute little secretary by his side, but even that role requires some additional combat training. 

König doesn’t know why he wants you so much, but you sit on his lap, playing with multiple harnesses on his leg, and he can’t keep his hands to himself. His fingers already got under your shirt, warm touches on your belly that made you shiver and catch your breath, waiting for his next move. 

Ja, he really can’t help himself anymore. 

— Schatz, how are you feeling? 

His voice is husky and you would jump out of surprise to hear him, if not for the other hand keeping you in place. Usually, he is content with just touching you, rough hands caressing your body as you mentally prepare to be ravaged even though he isn’t particularly pushy into the subject matter. You are oblivious enough to think that his length poking your butt is nothing but a spare gun in his hands, and your constantly disappearing panties are your own fault. You can be silly like this sometimes, especially when your days now mostly consist of scrolling the internet for “Contr-terrorists operations how long”, “Is colonel a high rank” and German lessons in case everything gets serious and you’d have to consider moving right beside him. 

— I’m…alright, I think? 

— Gut. Do you want anything right now? 

— No, thank you. 

— You sure? 

His hands are sliding down, gently rubbing your belly in a motion that is not reassuring at all – his movements are urging towards your waistband, and you really regret wearing skirts because this is giving him easy access. You didn’t think about wearing it before, but right now your weaknesses are showing – literally. His hands are warm, your skin is cold, and you can’t even breathe while he is touching your skin ever so slightly. 

He is asking you questions and you know that this isn’t because he really wants to know how you are feeling – he is very observant and caring towards you, as much as someone in his position can be, but you are pretty sure that he has ulterior motives. You can’t keep the naive and oblivious act for long – and you don’t want to see what will happen once he’ll see through it. 

— Yes, sir. I’m sure. 

— Don’t call me that. I thought you agreed to call me by my callsign. 

Not even his name – his face, his identity is a mystery to you, just like with everyone else. It makes you feel less special and certainly doesn’t help in trusting him more, but you cling to hope that he is not committed to you enough. That there is a way out of this because if he would show you his face, you are pretty sure that the only way of running away from him would result in death. 

You are calling him by his callsign, and even this feels too fucking personal. 

— Sorry. It’s just…

— What, meine Liebe? Do I scare you? 

Yes, you want to say. 

You are scaring me and you are arousing me and I want to be your wife and I want to never see you again. You are a constant threat, and you give me the best gifts. I don’t want to be your girlfriend and I would thankfully agree to be your barefoot trad wife. You are making me feel weird and it’s conflicting, and it’s loving and I don’t want you to touch me, but I also want you to slip in my panties and take me like I belong to you. 

Of course, you can’t say that. 

But his hand still slides deeper. 

— No, colonel. You don’t scare me. 

— I like it when you use my rank. 

It gives you at least some comfort – some distance between you, as figurative as it can be. You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, hoping that your blush won’t get away from your real feelings. The week was a blur – too many things happening at once. Debts disappear once he gets his card out of his pocket, too many expensive gifts plastering around your apartment. You don’t want to ask him where he got all of this stuff in a town that was locked down from the outside world because of the terrorist threat, nor do you want to know how much it costs him. Rich perfumes and weirdly expensive jewelry all look out of place on your body – or at your house. It is almost like he had never given gifts before, especially not to women. It’s out of place and everywhere at once – you would like to get flowers and chocolate and stuff that probably costs more than your whole life, but you are too shy to ask for a proper couch even though it’s the only thing you truly crave. 

— Not sure if I use it correctly. 

— You’re not. If you were my soldier, I would have to discipline you. 

Oh, he would love to bend you over his knee and give that ass what she deseerves. He won’t be nice, of course, it’s a punishment – he would listen to your little whines and cries as you can barely hold yourself together while he is doing nothing but teasing your soft flesh, playing with it like it belongs to him. König knows you would like it – just as you like the way his hands are travelling down your lower stomach, playing with the edge of your panties. 

His hands big – enough to cover your pussy entirely, rough fingertips playing with swolleness of your clit through the soft fabric. Your breah hitches – he was never this shameless, always asking before touching you even remotely innapropriately. Your skin is covered in goosebumps, you feel slick already travelling down your leg and you don’t dare to look up and meeting his eyes. 

He never gotten so far, and you love how shameless he is while doing it. 

He never gotten so far, and you hate yourself for being so weak for his hands. 

— A good thing that I’m not a soldier. — You would look good in uniform.

He chuckles, hands still covering your body. His other palm keeps you in place, makes sure that you will not try to run away – not like you have other options. His soldiers are already used to him casually inviting you to the base, however civilian you might be – but you know that they won’t hesitate before stopping you in case you’d decide to run away from their commander. If anything, they are loyal – creepy in that regard, eyes following you ever since that masked soldier brought you to him a week ago. You feel like a lamb that got caught in the wolves den and slowly eaten alive. 

— Si…König? 

— Ja? What is it, Mein Schatz? 

His fingers are slowly circling your clit, rubbing and playing with your labia as he gently spreads the heat. It feels almost casual, almost like you don’t need to pay too much attention to his actions. Your breath is non-existent at this moment, a mix of soft little cries and moans every time he rubs your sensitive flesh. It feels experienced, maybe not very sensational, but what he lacks in interesting technique he compensates in the sheer age and experience difference between you and him. You don’t even know his exact age – but he feels much older, more mature, you would call him daddy in different circumstances, but right now the words are only mortifying you. 

Calling him sir makes you feel small. 

Calling him colonel makes you feel…things. Not sure whether they are positive or not. 

— I’m not sure if we can do it here. 

— What do you mean by “it”? Your answer gets caught with a loud moan as his finger slips past your panties and slowly rubs your folds with a barrier between. You gasp and try to squeeze your legs, not letting him expose your lewdness so shamelessly – but his other hand goes to easily spread them, creating an even more naughty picture. 

— Wh…what we’re doing right now. 

— No one will say anything to us. But you can keep your sweet voice down if you want to. — No! I mean, f-fuck…we’re not supposed to do it here. What if someone sees us? 

— No one would enter without knocking. Besides… He is lifting the lower part of his hood again, biting your neck and immediately licking already forming purple mark. It’s painful, almost too much pressure and he barely avoids drawing blood out of sheer force – but you moan even louder when his tongue laps on your tender skin. — Maybe I want them to see how I treat you.

You look perfect like this, he thinks. Moaning and whimpering on his fingers, as his rough fingertips are playing with your gentle center, collecting the slick between your legs. You might act shy and innocent, making him want to sink his teeth deeper into your flesh, but he knows that you want it too. Yes, you are docile – too scared to be active in the bed, too weak to take charge instead of him, but that’s okay. He would gladly use you however see fit and make sure that you’ll love each second. 

Your body is made for him to grab, to use, to play with. A prize for everything he has done for his country, a piece of something nice after all the years of constant fear and danger. God knows he deserves a nice civilian girl moaning on his lap while sitting in his office. 

You whimper as you sit on him, his finger already buried deep in your cunt – and it’s big, too big compared to toys or your own fingers. He is reaching depths that you have never thought of before, massaging the tender, gummy insides of your body. You never thought that getting something inside of your body might feel this good – it was always too much, too painful, you never got enough lube before entering, and was always chose the wrong setting in your toys. 

— We don’t have to do anything serious yet, lamm. 

He says this, but his second finger is already stretching you wide, as he hums some light-hearted melody with not regard for tears in your eyes. It’s too much – he is pushing all the buttons in your body, making you a whiny, horny mess on his lap, and you don’t have anything to fight him off. You don’t want to make him stop, and it makes you feel dirty – like a slut that sold herself for the comforts of being the colonel’s little plaything. You want to stop thinking about it, turn off your brain and enjoy the ride – but every time his thumb circles on your clit, making you whimper as you produce even more slick, you are dangerously aware of your situation. 

— I want to make you feel good too…

Oh, he thinks. You are nothing but a little devil, aren’t you? So innocent, so pure, small hands that were gripping his wrists before now come down, to his pants, trying desperately to cling onto his belt and unbuckle it. He allows you to, even shifting his hips in a thrusting motion as your soft hands wrap around his shaft. 

König knows he is big – and that he would have to spend countless hours lapping on your cunt, stretching you wide with his fingers and maybe even some toys before your delicate body would be able to take him. You would cry, sob at his length as he would bully it deep in you cunt – but not now. He is nothing but patient, and this little indulgent would help him in slowly opening you for him. He can wait for a while longer if he can get something out of you today. 

He loves to think of himself as this patient, calm leader who might be a bit scared of actually talking to many people and despises social interactions – but then your fingers gently tap on his tip, already red and swollen from arousal and, hell, he wouldn’t last a week longer without your touches. He finds your lips and bites them, kissem with passion that he never experienced with any of his previous partners. You’re soft, docile, you can barely hold his dick in your hands as he throbbing and leaking pre-cum, while his fingers are buried deep in you. 

Your folds are sucking him inside as he works on spreading your soft, tender insides – he does not intent of fucking you properly today, you are still too soft for this, too unexperienced to take his length like a pro, but it doesn’t mean he can’t play a little. 

— Like this, lamm. Use your fingers. 

— Do I…am I doing this right, sir? 

You make a mistake again – and he groans from satisfaction. König never thought that something as mundaine as a pretty girl calling him sir – by god, he hears it every day from mouthes of his recruits, but it never has the same effect – would make him drool, but…

— Doing so good, meine Liebe. Can’t wait to spread you around my cock like a fucking toy. 

— W…wait, please. Not today, I…f…fuck, I can’t. — You don’t want to be a good girl for me? 

— I want to! Just…not today, please. 

— You’ll have to pay for it later. 

— Of course, sir…

He pinches your clit with his hand, making you whine from pain and pleasure mixing inside of you. Your figners, still as soft and delicate as can be, wrap tighter around his shaft – he enjoys the pain, sensation of being pushed too far at the hands of his adorable, weak little civillian. 

König looks at your hands – and imagines a ring around your finger. 

This alone makes him cum – thinking about you, all wrapped up in pretty clothes and looking at him with the same innocence in your eyes, with your soft lips curled in a shy smile as you’d agree to become his wife. He’d feel ashamed of cumming so fast – you barely got any grip on his dick and started moving, ring of fingers around his length, pressing and playing with the tip, but why does he have to feel shame if he feels so fucking good? 

Cum drenshes your tender folds, you sob when your lower stomach gets covered in his release. You’re surprised at how fast you made him cum – never had much experience pleasuring others before, you can already say how strongly he gets off your innocence. 

His finger moves in and out of your body with ease, lazily almost – but the movement are deep and deliberate, not allowing any reaction to get hidden from his gaze as he continuies to abuse your swollen and puffy lips, pushing his tongue deep in your mouth. You want to squirm out of his grasp, but forced on his fingers again even as you cum, your cunt clenching his hand like your life depends on it. 

You both gets off the hights of your climaxes, clinging to each others like people drowning. You think this is it for today – a chance to relax, for your pussy to get tight again, without being spread around on his fingers. 

König moves you to the table, makes you lay on it, leg spread like a good girl for him – and you knows that it’s far, too far from the end. ----------------------------------TAG LIST----------------------------------

@shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath @elichisstuff @milenko115 @in-ny-i-millywok

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male

[billskeis]

heyyy how are youu? can you do 2009tom x reader fluff,where tom meets reader’s family for the first time,he meets her niece and nephew,also her brother and etc🥹

ᡣ𐭩 tom meeting your family

“come on tomm, it’s really cold..!” you exclaim to your boyfriend as your shivering in your spot at the front door of your parent’s house.

“wait babe i gotta grab the cake i bought,”

he slammed his car door to reveal a somewhat fancy paper bag that presumably carried the cake he was talking about.

“you bought cake? you’re so cute, they’ll definitely love you with or without it though,”

“i know—i just—first impressions y’know?”

you kiss him on the cheek to watch his face turn a rosy palette, knocking on the front door the both of you await for someone to let you in sooner than later.

as the door swung open, you were immediately met with your loving mom.

“hey baby—mwah—” as she kisses you on the cheek, “this must be tom! hello hii welcome to the fam it’s so nice to finally meet you!”

“it’s great to finally meet you too..”

“call me mom!”

“o-okay..! i bought a cake, i hope it you’ll like it,”

“oh how kind of you sweetie, i’ll take that from you! come in come in you guys must be so cold,”

the two of you enter the house you once remembered to love so dearly before you moved out with tom. looking in his direction, you can see him smile ear to ear as his cheeks tint a nice pink.

he’s shy, and nervous, but secretly so happy over the fact that your mom already loves him.

as the two of you converse, you find that tom get’s along with everyone. he met your dad, loves him. your brother and tom both play the guitar, tom offering to even give one of his own to him to which your brother jumps in joy.

aunts and uncles and grandparents treat him as their own, pinching at his cheeks, spoon-feeding him, giving him immense amount of compliments, hugging him as if he were their own blood and the overall coddling of your 20 year old boyfriend.

however, it seems as though one particular individual isn’t so fond of him.

“who the heck is this!? and what’re you doing with y/n??” it appears to be a small boy, probably around the age six or seven, gap toothed and seems to be in a sour mood at the appearance of your boyfriend.

“sammy, this is tom! my boyfriend!”

his face contorts in disapproval, tom pouting to retaliate your nephew’s foul mood.

“no—i don’t like him..”

“hey! you don’t get to talk to my boyfriend like that..”

“tch, whatever.”

you click your tongue and decide to just go prepare and grab plates of food for tomorrow and yourself to eat.

you had to leave before you actually strangled the kid.

“i’ll be back baby i’m just gonna go grab us something to eat ‘kay?” tom nods as you kiss his cheek to leave him in the room with sam.

silence. absolute silence, as they both stood there staring at each other.

“do you love her?” sammy asks.

“i do love her.”

“what do you love about her?”

“everything. she’s my whole world to me, i was hoping to get along with her family, she says it means a lot to her that we do,”

sam twiddles his thumbs within his hands, had he made y/n upset? was he being immature?

one cannot help but feel protective over the aunty that cared for her since he was born.

“you like—really really—love her??”

“really really, sam,”

“ew don’t say my name, but i guess.. i guess i can get to know you,”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“but if you ever break y/n’s heart.. i’ll come for you,”

“alright big man, whatever you say,”

tom holds out a fist, sammy hesitates to reciprocate the gesture, with a big cheeky smile, the little boy punches tom’s arm and runs off to god knows where.

“ow..”

as tom rubs his arm to relieve himself of the pain, standing alone, he feels a tug on the jeans he calls pants, way too baggy for him to even touch his legs, but enough that he felt the sensation of pulling at the bottom of them.

he looks down, he spots a little girl, seemingly younger than sammy. in pink frills and two low pigtails, she looks up at tom with beady eyes.

“well hello there child,”

she doesn’t respond. not yet verbal enough to actually make out the words she would’ve wanted to say to him, if there were any at all.

letting go of the pant leg, she makes grabbing motions at tom. to his surprise, it seems as though stranger danger isn’t really a concept to her as it is for sammy.

picking her up in his arm, he carries your niece holding him up to his chest as she sit on his forearm comfortably.

he jumps her up and down in his arms to see her smile, also smiling on his own.

“why aren’t you cute??”

he coos, holding out a finger in front of her, for her to wrap the totality of her hand around his index finger.

tom could feel his heart melt at the sight of how adorable she was.

coming back, you hold two plates in both hands to witness the site of your boyfriend getting along with your niece.

“aren’t you two the sweetest?? seems like you’ve meet lily!”

“she’s so.. cute!”

the little girl cannot help but shy away, hiding her face in tom’s neck.

it doesn’t explicitly show, but it seems as though your niece has taken a very big liking to tom, she definitely thinks hes the cutest boy she’s ever seen.

“hey! don’t go stealing tom from me now, that’s my boyfriend,” you rush to put the plates full of food on the table to tickle at your niece.

she giggles and jolts in tom’s grasp as he attempts to securely hold onto her, lily wrapping her small arms around his neck.

you sulk and cross your arms, she won the battle, but you also cannot help but gawk at the sight of seeing tom hold your niece so lovingly.

“she stole my boyfriend from me,” you scowl as you playfully hit tom’s arm.

chuckling, tom cannot hide the wide grin plastered on to his face, smiling ever so brightly.

“jealous?”

“…yes”

“awww don’t be like that, you’ll have enough of me later,”

your mouth agape as he smirks at you, clearly intending something behind that, you feel anxious, but impatient.

you need to give him a child.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x y/n #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel fluff #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #2000s #fyp #billskeis

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | part 3

Pairing: Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x Sully family

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, bad relationships, teyam is a shy babygurl, soft & crush moments.

Note:Sorry for the late update, I've had a lot of work to do and I'm finally on vacation. I will try to catch up. But thank you so much for all the love you have given to this series. BTW… I'll keep answering requests. I have a lot of them in my inbox, so please be patient.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4,Part 5(final)

3 weeks had passed since the Sully family took you into their home. Your injury had healed, and little by little you had started to help more in the family home. Because the camp was a rather uncomfortable and small place. Neytiri convinced you to live completely in the family hut, in a way she felt responsible for you. After all she was the one who had found you in the jungle. She also felt that you needed her, so she promised herself to take care of you. Jake didn't mind this, he thought it was adorable… to see neytiri so worried about a girl totally different from them. But he supported his mate's decision, you were a girl who had lost her entire clan. They should help you and make you feel like part of the new clan. Or so they were trying.

The Omaticaya had never interacted with the Na'vi of the cold mountains. They had heard stories, and only a few had seen a few. Your clan was known to be very polite, a bit of a hermit and not very sociable. They were not aggressive, but they did not like to mix with other clans. Besides the physical and social differences. Your clan was different in their way of living. In the last few weeks you could see how everyone did their chores, how the clan lived together. Of course, all this from the door of the hut. You were still a little afraid to go out, you had walked around the hut. But no more than that. You were curious, how you were going to help them. You had to learn to do something. You hadn't noticed, but Kiri had already come closer to you. Sitting down next to you. "Hey…what are you looking at? Are you looking at tarsem?" kiri teased a little. This comment caught the attention of neteyam, who was getting his things ready to go fishing. "Oh no" you laugh nervously, yes you had noticed this guy's presence, but that wasn't what you were looking at.

Neteyam clears his throat, coming over to where you two were sitting. "What are you two talking about?" the boy asks, playing dumb. "mmm nothing…about Y/N. She's spying tarsem, that's bad" kiri continues teasing. "Stop!!!" you push her a little. As your eyes meet neteyam's, he had a forced smile on his face. The last few weeks, ever since you had arrived at the hut. Neteyam has been silently close to you and your baby. Watching you from afar, or sitting closer to you at meal times. Helping you take care of him, or just holding him while you did other things. Making sure everything was okay, of course…all with a low profile. Everyone thought neteyam was being nice and wanted you to feel at home. So did the other members of the family, but you… you knew this was not the case. Neteyam was forgetting that your gift as a seer allowed you to feel and see things that others did not. You didn't know exactly what that feeling was that neteyam radiated when he was around you. But you knew it wasn't something normal…it was something very intense.

"Tarsem is a guy…quite interesting" neteyam speaks with a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice. Playing with your baby, which was in your lap. Kiri laughs again, nudging his brother on the shoulder. "He's interesting…and he's very cute" kiri looks at you, watching you roll your eyes back. "I'm not looking at him…I'm looking at that" you point to the group of women who were separating some fruit. Others were making baskets. "Ahh they're just picking fruit" speaks neteyam.

"They didn't do that in my clan…in the cold there are no fruit trees" you say, while still looking at the group of women. Kiri and neteyam stand silently looking at each other. "No fruit? So what did you eat?" asks Kiri. "Meat…and some berries and herbs" you smile awkwardly. You watch the look on kiri's face turn to one of sadness. "It must be very sad," says Kiri. You laugh and settle closer to neteyam. "It's no big deal… my clan was located in the area where there are many storms. So these foods are perfect for survival" you try to explain to them, but you could still see the anguish in their eyes. If it could be a bit depressing, you could occasionally enjoy some fruits that survived in the cold snow. But you were used to it. "But… I'm glad to be here, I've eaten a lot of fruits and I love them" you smile shyly. Noticing how neteyam was literally glued to your side. Your arm was bumping against his. After a short silence, neteyam had an idea.

"Why don't you come with me to get some fruits?" asks neteyam, placing his hand on your thigh. You bristle under his touch, he doesn't know what he's doing to you. Of course, he couldn't feel what you could, it was all too intense. "I'd like to…but" you lower your gaze, watching as your baby played with one of your braids. Braids that Neytiri had made for you the night before. Kiri steps up, and takes the baby in her arms. "I'll take care of him…it will be good for you to go for a walk" says Kiri. You think about it for a moment, but agree. Herwì had just turned 2 months old, so he was a little easier to take care the baby. You stare at Kiri for a moment, you swear you can hear a voice saying "he'll be fine". You panic a little, they turn your head. "Everything okay?" kiri asks, you try to laugh. "Yeah, yeah….esta fine, if anything happens you look me for me" you agree. Watching as neteyam gets up from the floor, going to get some baskets.

"So what are we waiting for….let's go" neteyam says, placing his hand on your back guiding you. You give a last to kiri and then walk out of the hut. The further you walked, the more surprised you became. Not only by the differences between the na'vi. But by the amount of humans walking normally, it made you a little nervous. You knew that everyone got along well, and that these humans were not dangerous, even your instinct told you that you shouldn't be afraid. But still… you felt fear. "How about we go to my ikran, what do you think?" neteyam asks you, trying to distract you. "Really?" you sound excited, ever since you had seen the ikran you wanted to ride them. A couple more minutes and you are ahead of the ikran. You grab the creature's head. Neteyam is silent, watching his ikran go calm under your touch.

"You are precious" you whisper, closing your eyes. Neteyam's ikran becomes even quieter, just as you touch it. You could feel its heartbeat, you look up, staring into the animal's eyes. "You haven't named it, why?" you look at neteyam, who had already walked beside you. "Ahh I don't know… I didn't think he wanted a name" says neteyam laughing a little. Holding up the baskets. "Well yes…you should" you speak. "I should" there is a small pause between the two of you. "Ok…all set" neteyam climbs into his ikran, inviting you. You take his hand, and he helps you get comfortable. "Hold me tight" neteyam says, as you wrap your arms around his waist. Holding you tightly, so that the ikran begins to fly.

The view was so beautiful. The mountains, the wildlife. The clouds that adorned the tops of the trees. Neteyam was silent, noticing how you were relaxing. Just as you were gaining altitude, in the distance you could see what had once been your home, Neteyam's eyes opened wide. You could see the large area that had been burned. As smoke billowed from the burned trees and floated up to the heights. Neteyam can feel your grip getting tighter. He moves one of his hands, to touch yours. Which was now on his chest, giving it a squeeze. "That was my home" you speak, laying your head on his back. Neteyam holds your hand tighter. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry" neteyam feels you settle more on his back hugging him, he knew you were looking for some comfort. Neteyam has never seen first-hand what the brutal loss of his clan was like. Neytiri and Jake only talked superficially about it. Sure, he had seen destruction. But the destruction of this magnitude never. And that you had experienced it firsthand, it broke his heart. He felt bad…knowing that his mother had to suffer as much as you did. Or worse.

Neteyam diverts his ikran a bit, to take another route, and so get away from the area. After flying for a while, you both land on a branch. You cautiously climb down from the beast, while Neteyam begins to place several baskets on his shoulder. "I told you that I'm not very good at climbing?" you say, looking down at the ground. "No? Why?" neteyam comes to your side, looking at your worried face. "Well… I didn't have the need to climb trees. I was just…walking" you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, seeing the height of the tree to the ground. Neteyam holds you by the arm. "Oh I understand…mmm climb on my back" says neteyam, bending down to be more below your height. You move closer, hugging his neck. Feeling neteyam's hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you up onto his back in one swift movement. "Hold on tight," neteyam says.

"You're not going to let go…are you?" neteyam can feel how nervous you are, you're shaking a little. And your tail was thumping his hands. "No…but if you want me to release you to the ground" neteyam jokes with you loosening his grip a little. You scream and hug him tighter. "Just kidding… calm down" neteyam starts to climb down the tree carefully, it wasn't very tall. So you reached the ground quickly. Carefully releasing you on the ground, making sure you were okay.

"Well…that wasn't so bad" you speak, adjusting several pieces of your top. You were still getting used to how revealing these clothes felt. Neteyam comes over, and adjusts a piece. Carefully, checking to make sure it was in the right place. You stand still, noticing how carefully he touched you and cared for you. So different…so kind. Making your heart clench. "If we follow this path…there are some trees that have the best fruits" neteyam speaks, he was so close to you. You could see all his expressions, and how his little ears moved as he tried to find his way through the jungle. Taking your hand, to start walking. You don't complain, you let him guide you. After walking for a while, about 6 minutes. You get to where the trees were. They were all full of yellow and red fruits.

"It's harvest time…I know you're going to love them," says neteyam, watching you walk away. To get closer and investigate the fruits further. They were so strange to you, Neytiri was bringing another type of fruit to eat..this one was bigger and brighter. "These days are supposed to start picking this fruit…look" neteyam plucks a fruit from the tree, and offers it to you. He gestures with his mouth for you to bite into the fruit. You laugh a little, it looked funny. You take it, and take a bite. Enjoying the new texture, taste and smell you were experiencing. Your ears perk up, and your tail starts wagging fast. "You like it, don't you? It tastes wonderful" neteyam asks, munching on a fruit. "This…is delicious" you speak with your mouth full. Neteyam laughs, he thought it was adorable to see you discovering something new for the first time. You both sit on the ground, laying your back on a log. Eating more fruit, while Neteyam told you all about the fruit. He told you that this was not the only fruit there was, that there were hundreds of them and how they should be harvested and cared from them. You listened to him very attentively, surprised that there was such a variety of fruit.

After a while, the two of you started talking about anything and everything. Until the subject of your baby came up. Neteyam was curious. Since you didn't talk about your mate, usually couples talked about their mates. Even if they had died, they still remembered their memory. You had barely mentioned it once. Now you were sitting, eating another piece of fruit. Neteyam cleared his throat and spoke. "Y/N…I have a question?" you could tell the nervousness in his tone of voice. You respond with a "Hmm?" but continue eating your fruit. "I wanted to ask you something about …. the father of your baby" speaks neteyam. He notices how you have stopped eating, and you put the fruit in your lap. You look up, to see neteyam. "I've noticed that you hardly talk about him, and…" you interrupt neteyam.

"seyey was one of the strongest hunters in the whole clan, at such a young age he had a lot of experience. He had earned the respect of the entire clan. Including my father…the clan chief" you pause. So you were the clan chief's daughter, now it all made sense. "I guess…he wanted you to be with him," says neteyam. You nod your head in agreement. "He thought seyey was the perfect mate. Our clan thinks about preserving our lineage, it must be pure. So as soon as we came of age, we united before eywa" you spoke with your eyes on the ground. Neteyam didn't want to say anything, he could see how uncomfortable this topic made you. "The only thing that came out enjoyable, was my son herwì… we were unhappy together". "I'm sorry for everything…" neteyam put his hand on your back. "My father only wanted the clan lineage to stay intact…no matter what I really wanted. He wasn't a bad father, but he didn't listen to me" you speak.

"And what did you want to do?" asks Neteyam, trying to cheer you up a bit. You blush a little, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to be a slinth rider" you speak, neteyam is a little shocked. The slinth were dangerous creatures. "Those creatures are not from the jungle?… they are also very dangerous" neteyam notices how you laugh. "Yes…but the ones found in the cold mountains are another type of slinth…they are just like me" you laugh, taking a bite of fruit. "You can still be a rider…if that's what you want" speaks neteyam. You let out a sigh. "Well…what's done is done. There's nothing I can do about it. Besides…I think I know why I'm here" you tap neteyam on the shoulder.

"Really? And what's that reason?" neteyam moves closer to you. Wiggling playfully. "mmm I can't tell you" you change your face, laughing a little. "Come on…tell me!" speaks neteyam in a soft but at the same time playful tone. The atmosphere had become more peaceful, you both started to laugh. You knew what the reason was, you had a feeling that the reason why he had come to this clan. It was because of neteyam…because of the dream you had of him. Now you just had to find out what was the reason for your encounter with him. You two were so wrapped up in your own world that you didn't hear someone approaching. Neteyam was the first to notice the noises, there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the harvest area yet. Rising to stand in front of you, you carefully stand up.

Neteyam pulls out his knife, ready to strike at anything. But he immediately relaxed when he heard his brother's voice. What the hell is lo'ak doing here, Neteyam thinks. "Don't worry…it's lo'ak" neteyam lowers his weapon, watching as the voice continues to get closer. Out of the bushes comes lo'ak who was talking carelessly next to spider. You let out a low cry, and move quickly behind neteyam. Hugging his arm. "What's that 'thing' doing here?" you sound scared, you had seen the humans. But from far away. You had never seen one so close. "This 'thing' is spider…it's good" lo'ak says trying to calm you down. "Yeah…I don't bite" says spider, laughing a little. Everyone knew what you had been through, so this was a very normal reaction. "I see you" spider gestures with his hands, and you copy his greeting. Looking at neteyam, but not taking off from him. "I promise I won't hurt you…I'm good" spider felt somewhat responsible, even though he hadn't done anything to you.

Lo'ak had talked about you, the last few days. And he was fascinated to meet you. An albino na'vi and from the cold mountains. That sounded wonderful. "You've met norm?…you'd blow his head off" spider jokes a little. But your face turns to horror again. "no…I don't want to blow anyone up" you yell a little, whining. The three boys laugh out loud. "Babe..no. He says norm would be impressed with you. He just said a human quote" neteyam explains to you. "I'm sorry" spider apologizes. He doesn't want to scare you. "And you were doing here?" neteyam asks. Lo'ak points to the fruit in his hand. "Same as you guys…but without the romantic atmosphere" lo'ak scoffs. Neteyam laughs uncomfortably. "Why don't we go back to camp?" neteyam looks at you, and can see that she was still frightened by spider's presence. "Yes…I want to go back" you squeeze neteyam's arm tighter. You two begin your walk back to neteyam's ikran. Hearing the giggles of the boys. "Ignore them…yes?" neteyam takes your hand. You take another look and follow neteyam. "She's…she's very impressive" says spider. "I know…I've never seen anyone like that" says lo'ak.

Near the cold mountains…

"Sir…we've looked everywhere and nothing" says one of the warriors. The man clears his throat, holding back tears from his eyes. He could not look weak in front of his warriors. "Make a scan in the southern area, closer to the village" says the man. The warriors quickly look at each other with concern. "But sir… the humans may be nearby and" the man slaps the ground. "I gave an order!!!" the man shouts, all the young warriors get up and leave the cave.

"Father…I don't think we're going to find her" says a younger boy. The man strokes the back of his neck, letting a tear come out of his eye. This situation was killing him, he had to find her. "tekxe…we have to find your sister. I have a feeling she's still alive" says your father. Eywa always protects his chosen ones.

Teyam babygurls: symptoms-of-moonlight , tru-blubelle, mashiromochi, ducks118, @butterfly-ibuki, @innercreationflower, @ok-boke, @lovelyygirl8, @sandaltoesocks, @he110hon, @inlovewithpandora, @sussybaka10, @mommyneytiri, @daughterofjakesully, @symptoms-of-moonlight @ilostmyaccounf

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #human reader #female y/n #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam oneshot #human y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #atwow #avatar twow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x na'vi albino #neteyam x albino!fem #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam series #neteyam smut #sully family #neytiri x you #neytiri #neytiri x reader #kiri sully #avatar 2 #neytiri imagine

[barbiiecams]

Hiii angel 💓💓 you have to do more of sugar daddy rafe plss 🙏 how they meet?

nsfw

i feel like you were already a kook. a rich, spoiled one at that. then because of your behaviors towards other people (both pogues and kooks you didn’t like) your parents had really had enough. like to the point where they cut down your allowance, yet that still didn’t seem to work on you.

one day your father told you “you need to get a job. no more funds from us.” which completely broke you down. you had been so dependent on them you’re entire life, because now you were 19 about to turn 20 with no real experience of having a job. in all your years, you grew up so wealthy. there wasn’t a need to have one. but here you were, begging your dad to keep you in his good graces.

“eventually you’ll need to work. where do you think i got all my money from?” he reasons, and now it’s starting to click.

“where would i even work?” you’d ask, almost on the verge of tears.

“a friend of mine named ward needs a gardener. he pays pretty well too. just start from there.” he says. this really blew you. who did you look like being someone’s maid?

“you’re joking right?” you stared at him blankly.

“it’s that or nothing.” your father gets up and walks away. now you really could cry, but you were more angry than anything.

—

you’d spend days holding off on actually contacting the cameron’s, but when the allowance money started to run out after a major shopping spree, you were ultimately left with no choice.

you called ward and asked if he still needed a gardener, and he most definitely did since he gave you the job on the spot. “you can start tomorrow at 8, if you’d like.” he said. money is money.

“of course, see you then.” when you hung up, you let out a breath of air, fully accepting your place and status now. you were the entitled kook princess, now turning into someone working for the cameron’s.

when the next morning came, you introduced yourself to ward, rose and wheezie. rose had instructed you on what to do, and ward explained the payment plan which was good enough. sooner than later, you’d started working in their front yard planting all kinds of flowers.

that’s pretty much how it looked for weeks. on top of that, not many people knew, which was a good thing.

you’d show up at 8, rose would make you something if you were hungry, then you’d get to work. but one day, it seemed like the angels were on your side.

you were working on figuring out how to keep that damn rosemary alive when you heard a voice behind you. and it didn’t belong to ward.

“who are you?” the man said. you turned around to see who was asking, and it was no other than rafe cameron.

“why?” you questioned. rafe recognized you too. everyone knew who you were, and it was embarrassing enough that the son of the richest person on the island knew you were working for his family. y/n y/l/n was supposed to be immune to working.

he smirks. “i know you.”

there was no refraining from the eye roll that crept up. “yea i bet you do.”

“why are you working here? don’t you just get what you want?” you were surprised he knew all this about you, aware of how much older he was.

“my dad cut my allowance.” you explained while working on the rosemary again.

“ouch.” he said while walking inside, abruptly ending the conversation. this kind of pissed you off but you paid no mind. moments later, he came back out with a glass of water.

“here,” he hands it to you, “it’s scorching out here.”

“thanks,” you accepted it, and took a long sip. for the rest of the time you were working, the two of you made small talk. even though the age gap was there, you still found enough to talk about.

an easy few hours later with rafe talking to you, and occasionally helping, your shift was over. and now suddenly you were perched on the bathroom sink, sundress bunched up and panties pulled to the side. rafe was balls deep, hitting that good spot and ready to bust one at any moment.

his hand covered your mouth to keep your moans quiet, and had the door locked so not a single soul could interrupt.

“fuckk,” he groans. “best pussy i’ve felt in a while, i’ll tell you that.”

a few more thrusts and you were done. your head falling onto his shoulder and ragged breaths for air.

your release sent his off, him quickly pulling out then sending you to your knees.

he jerked himself a few times, “open.”

doing exactly what he said, your mouth opened and you had your tongue stuck out. he finally cums, aiming for your mouth but some ended right below your eye.

when he was done, he wiped the remains from your face with his thumb, and had you suck on it. you stood up from the floor, wobbly and really hoping that no one heard anything.

rafe gathers himself, “a tight cunt like that doesn’t need to be working.”

you let out a laugh. “well here i am.”

“nah, not with me.” he zips his shorts back up. “i’ll take real good care of you. no more gardening.”

and ever since then, you were back to being the spoiled princess you were destined to be.

#thank you for the request! #barbiiecams #sugardaddy!rafe #drew starkey #rafe cameron #outer banks #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey fic #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey headcannon #drew starkey angst #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut

[pedgito]

hii !! i love your work and i cant get out of my head rockstar!eddie MAYBE EVEN OLDER ROCKSTAR!EDDIE can u do something about him?? PLEASE im begging

author’s note: i’m back with more older!eddie because i literally can’t resist, it’s too good. i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), older rockstar!eddie, large age gap (early 20s, late 30s), shy!reader (if you squint), mentions of groupies, oral (m receiving), smoking, lots of dirty talk, deep throating, ect, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.8k

You really had no business being here—shoved into a crowd at a rock concert for a band you’d never heard of. Corroded…something. But, by some cataclysmic fate you’d been shove to the front, body nearly leaning over the railing as the men on stage performed their hearts out, the crowd singing along to every song, hanging on to every word and it felt unreal watch something like this live, and needless to say, you were entranced.

Your friend had disappeared a few minutes earlier for a bathroom break during one of the quick intermissions, but you weren’t sure how easily they’d make it back, everyone packed in tight, leaving barely any room for you to breathe. The men on stage interacted with the crowd for a bit, the long haired one—the lead, you could only assume. He was loud and overbearing, making a complete fool of himself—it was obnoxious, until his eyes landed on you, drawing you in.

What you had failed to realize is that the band indeed liked to bring people on stage, typically for a ridiculous serenade or a chance for someone to show off their musical skills, let out a wild guitar riff or an epic drum solo—unfortunately, you couldn’t handle either.

Your heart clenches in your chest at his subtle nod, grinning barely enough for his teeth to peek through—you shake your head slightly, a thousand eyes burning into the back of your head as the crowd starts to catch up, beginning to interrupt into a cheer of encouragement. He leans back, whispering something to his bandmates until they’re nodding in response, hopping off the stage and heading your way.

And if you weren’t panicking already, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears is enough to drive you mad. You weren’t a fan, didn’t know a single word, and would undoubtedly make a fool of yourself if you let them pull you up on stage, no matter how enticing their presence may be—there was no way you were letting that happen, not in front of thousands of people.

You’re pretty insistent rather, shaking your head the moment they approach you—and from an outsider's perspective you look insane, throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime for some people, all because of your own innate shyness.

“She said no, Eddie.” The younger guy with short cropped and dirty blonde hair shouts back at his bandmates.

Eddie. It’s less fitting than you expect, but you’re not really one to judge—he cocks his head slightly, squatting down on the stage as he waves you forward, fingers wiggling welcomingly.

And maybe if you weren’t surrounded by a crowd of people, you would’ve considered it. He can see the fear in your eyes, jumping down to approach you quickly.

“Are you sure?” He asks, leaning forward to speak into your ear, the roar of the crowd deafening. “Anyone else in here would kill for a chance like this.”

He’s not lying—women would throw themselves on stage and at him, men too, but he’s also constantly surprised by people everyday, though this is a complete first.

“Pick someone else, please.” You beg, eyes pleading, glaring at him simmeringly, “Not me.”

“Hey—what’s going on?” The chipper voice of your friend asks, tearing up behind you as they push through the crowd.

You’ve never been more thankful for the distraction, letting Eddie pluck your friend from the crowd and drag them on stage in your place, but not before whispering over to one of the men lined up by the stage—a couple of professional gentlemen lined up in suits.

He hesitates a step before he hops back on stage and within the distraction of the crowd as they were more entranced with what was happening on stage as your friend took a seat, Eddie tears back and leans toward you again, breath hot as he speaks against the side of your face, “I’ll get you and your friend backstage passes, so try not to run away after the show’s over?”

It felt like a fucking fever dream, wondering if this is normal behavior—which it’s so glaringly obvious that it isn’t, but you keep your naivety at the forefront, nodding quietly in response as his eyes lock on you to confirm, offering you a devious smile in return before he’s gone, back on stage and performing like it was second nature—because to Eddie, it was.

“This is crazy—this is fucking insane—“

You yank gently at your friend, stalling their overactive movements, knowing they were about to jump out of their skin given the chance.

“Hey, cool—you two are our last ones.” Eddie’s voice echoes behind you, rounding the corner as he nods toward the open door nestled just behind him. “Come on.”

You were trying to seem interested, act like you genuinely wanted to be there—but you couldn’t fake it, taking in the large, unorganized dressing room sparingly, astounded by the idea that people paid real money for experiences like this.

Because while your friend is eating up, enjoying the droves of attention the other bandmates are showing them, you’re reserved, standing back behind as Eddie approaches at your side, unlit cigarettes tucked between his lips.

“You smoke?” He asks curiously, fiddling with his lighter in his hands.

“Yeah.” You answer slowly, offering him a skeptical look.

Eddie easily reaches for the case tucked in his back pocket, offering you a single cigarette. You can feel the tension as he flicks it toward you, wordlessly offering you the chance for a one on one, not that you have a shit. But, you were here—so why not?

“Sure.” You shrug dismissively, reaching for the cigarette as Eddie calls over his shoulder, motioning for you to follow him outside—but considering the dressing room reeked of the smell of weed and smoke already, you weren’t sure he went outside to smoke very often.

“We’ll be back, gonna have a quick smoke—“ He announces, speaking jokingly toward your friend, “I’m sure you’ve got a ton of burning questions.”

Eddie doesn’t light up until he’s outside, heavy metal door clanging shut behind him. He inhaled deeply, igniting the end of the cigarette before extending his arms forward, offering to light your own. You lean forward silently, eyes never leaving his as the flint sparks to life.

“Why are you here?” He asks curiously, shoving the light back into his pocket.

You look around dumbly, taking in the surroundings before looking pointedly at him, “You offered me a smoke, didn’t you?”

Eddie chuckles around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips with a loose grip, thumbs and forefinger gripping the base.

“I meant the show, sweetheart.” Eddie says, tone enticing.

The attraction you feel is…unnatural, bordering on the heels of taboo. He’s nearly twice your age, graying slightly in his beard, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away, slipping one hand under your shirt to rest against your hip as you leaned against the wall.

“My friend had an extra ticket,” You shrug, “and why would I deny a good time?”

“So, you enjoyed the show?” He asks teasingly, cigarette lingering near his lips as he smirks, full of smug attitude.

“What I could,” You admit, “I have no idea who you guys are.”

He snorts a laugh, simmering with a small amount of disbelief.

“Oh, is that hard to believe?” You retort, “God, you musicians are all the same.”

“Musicians? Do tell.” Eddie encourages, puffing a few times in quick succession. “I’d love your take.”

You flick the cigarette toward the ground, stubbing it out with your shoe. “Full of yourselves.” You tell him simply, “Like when I told you I didn’t want to come on stage—you looked offended.”

“Forgive me,” Eddie replies dramatically, “In the past fifteen years not one person has ever turned down that chance. I was a little surprised.”

“Why did you pick me?” You inquire, pressing for more information, catching the way his eyes wander. “Was I just the right amount of pretty for you?”

“Huh,” Eddie replies, “seems like someone else is a little full of themselves.”

You don’t reply, eyebrows raising in annoyance as you wait for his response.

“You looked lost, overwhelmed” Eddie admits, “I was just trying to give you a chance to escape the crowd.”

“By pulling me onstage in front of thousands of people?”

“Look, sweetheart—“

You shake your head insistently, rising to poke a finger into his chest, fingertip pressing against bare skin, flicking at his chain necklace, guitar pick slapping against his chest.

“I’m not your sweetheart—I’m not your groupie, either.” You tell him snippingly, “Do you really think I’m that clueless?”

Eddie gums softly, “And yet, you still followed me out here.”

You pull back slightly, pouting in subtle anger.

“That’s what I thought.” He replies playfully, “So, what’s your excuse?”

The silence is the only answer Eddie needs, knowing you're just as guilty for feeling it too—he extends his hand carefully, flicking the cigarette to a far off dark corner, hoping that you’ll accept his offer.

Whatever that offer may be.

The first touch is instant electricity and Eddie pulls you in with ease, sliding his open palm down your back, resting just above the curve of your ass, other hand releasing yours to squeeze at the side of your neck, pulling you tight against him. His eyes are dark and peering down at you, head slightly turned up as he speaks.

“You can still run away, if you want.” Eddie offers, “I won’t be offended—though I have to admit, you’re much too pretty for me to let go that easily.”

You shake your head silently, skipping the niceties and rubbing a firm hand over the front of his jeans, cock growing hard under your touch. “Should I?”

Eddie tilts his head slightly, confused.

“Run away?” You clarify.

“Remind me how much you know about me?” Eddie asks, knowing that his life wasn’t ever private anymore, not anyone.

He’s lived a majority of his adult life in the limelight and made every possible mistake along the way—it’s refreshing, looking into the innocent and untainted eyes of someone who knew nothing about him; good or bad.

“Not a thing.” You reaffirm, a sharp edged smile on your face as you lean further into him, pressing the line on your body against him.

“Perfect.” He breathes, before tipping your head back to capture your mouth, tongue tasting like whiskey and smoke, the faint mix of sweat and fancy cologne lingering in your senses as you open up to him, lips parting willingly.

He kisses sure of himself, hands never faltering or straying away, squeezing in the places that had you squealing softly into his mouth before eventually traveling to cover your ass fully, squeezing the flesh in his palms as you pull back, allowing him to chase your lips slightly before pulling away, voice low as you speak, “Can I suck your cock?” You ask sweetly and Eddie’s never been so genuinely taken back in his life.

He’s used to quick fucks and nothing else, getting what he could from these short encounters and never thinking twice.

“Fuck yeah,” Eddie replies with a chuckle of amusement, unfastening his pants as you sink to your knees, helping him with his belt, “—shit sweetheart, hold on—“

His quickly strips himself of his jacket, dropping into the floor wordlessly—you spread it out under your knees, knowing it won’t do much but you’re thankful for the gesture, showing it in the way you pull his jeans down his hips enough until you can get a hand around his cock, pumping it in long, slow strokes as it rose to full hardness.

“You know what you’re doing?” Eddie asks, thumb rubbing tenderly at the side of your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. You nod confidently, bottom lip pulled loosely between your teeth as he gently shoves your hand away, gripping himself firmly and lining the head of his cock at your lips, dragging your bottom lip with it as he waits, jaw tensed.

“Open for me, sweetheart.” He tells you kindly, the hand cupping your chin tipping your head up higher, your lips parting obediently until he can slip the tip past your lips, dragging the fleshy head over your tongue, allowing himself a few languid strokes until you’re hollowing your cheeks out, lips wrapping around him at the perfect pressure, swirling your tongue teasingly against the sensitive slit. “Can’t take too long—they’ll come looking,” Eddie speaks idly, mouth hung open slightly as he watches you take more of his cock, your hand coming up to gently swat his away, directing it toward your hair, allowing him to grip a fair portion as you forced yourself deeper, hand wrapping around what you couldn’t cover.

He’s more than you’ve ever taken otherwise, but not so overwhelming that you feel like you shouldn’t, that you can’t.

“I’ll be quick.” You say, breath ghosting over his shaft as your mouth travels down, paying the perfect amount of attention to his balls, rolling the tight sack over your tongue until he’s groaning loudly into the chill air, squeezing at the chunk of hair he had in his grip, “I swear.”

You tease him further, stroking at his shaft with his balls still heavy in your mouth, nose nudging at the properly kept curls settled at the base of his cock, moaning in a effort to pull another desperate noise from him—it works, Eddie grunting through his teeth as he pulls you away, urging you direct the attention toward his aching dick, your tongue peeking out to lick at the small bead of precum, eyes never leaving his face.

You really hadn’t expected to spend your night like this, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to pull away, struck by his intense and heavy gaze, staring down at you with an adoration you’d never felt, with anyone.

“God, those fucking lips,” He comments, thumb rubbing carefully around the edge, the stretch of his dick in your mouth was obscene, no doubt—he could barely keep it together, “where’d you learn to use your mouth like this?”

“Lots and lots of practice,” You tell him honestly, voice dripping with a tone of sweetness that doesn’t nearly make up for the depraved words that come out of your mouth. “—want you to fuck my face, Eddie.”

His eyebrows furrow in disbelief, barely visible under his long bangs, but you can see it—he nods slightly, pulling you back abruptly before repositioning himself, forcing his cock into your mouth slowly until it won’t budge, nudging the back of your throat, eyes watering at the soft intrusion. You nod slowly—it’s all Eddie needs before he’s pulling out again, thrusting back into your mouth harshly.

You moan around him, genuinely startled by his ease of flipping control, face tense and eyes squeezed shut as he fucks your face with fervor. He throws his head back lazily, groaning with every nudge at the back of your throat, gagging when he pulls you forward, holding you still, coming down your throat with no warning—not that you weren’t not expecting it, eyes watering from the intrusion as he pulls you back gently.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry—“ Eddie quickly apologizes, “I didn’t mean—“

You swallow the salty, heady cum that sat in your mouth, smiling at him devilishly; the grin enough to have him falling to his knees.

“Stop trying to be a gentleman, Eddie.” You laugh softly, rising from your spot on the ground and thrusting his leather jacket into his hands, watching as he haphazardly stuffed himself back into his pants, looking disheveled. You could only assume you looked the same. ”I know it’s just an act.”

“Oh, sweetheart—you don’t know a damn thing about me.” Eddie chides, reaching forward to flick a stray hair from your face. “Remember?”

Your snort softly in defiance, sizing him up briefly.

Eddie figured it’s a long shot, but he takes a leap.

“So, we’ve got a show here next week, too—“

“Mmm, no.” You quickly retort, shaking your head shyly.

“I can get you tickets, full VIP treatment.” Eddie confesses, shrugging the jacket back on his shoulders, “It’s a sold out show, you know?”

“And I’m not a groupie.” You reinforce, “Remember?”

You were only half serious—but you couldn’t justify showing up to another show, letting this become a thing. The thrill was exhilarating, knowing you could have something most people would die for, something you knew was far from appropriate.

Eddie laughs briefly, nodding in response. He steps forward unexpectedly, devouring you in a breathtaking kiss, all tongue and teeth, nothing like the softer kiss from earlier. He wants you to remember it.

“Well, if it’s fate,” Eddie says against your mouth, “I guess I’ll see you again.”

“I guess so.” You smile back, playfully biting at his lip before pulling away, heading inside before he can say another word.

And Eddie would try his damndest to make that happen, unbeknownst to you, not that you would’ve minded—Eddie enjoyed the chase.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #my writing #1kfic

[its-time-to-write]

hi my lovely !!

i’m such a big fan of your jamie work and was wondering if you would consider writing about jamie using bantr ??

like she works at richmond and jamie had like a massive light bulb moment when he realised who he’s chatting to but also that he may be are falling in love

totally get if not on your radar !! x

Here you go!! I haven’t written a fic with Bantr yet, so this was fun!!

not saying you’re in love with me 

Dating apps aren’t really your thing. But to be honest, are they anyone’s thing? Or are they like resumes, where everyone just pretends they’re easy and lies about their qualifications?

It doesn’t matter, because you’re on one anyway. 

Keeley Jones (damn her) had hunted you down and practically begged you to sign up for Bantr. 

“Look, you’re young, sweet, and mad fit. Can’t have a bunch of hot footballers in the app and no ladies!”

You had groaned as you put the chicken for today’s lunch in the oven. It’s not easy being Nelson Road’s on-campus chef. There are diet plans to follow, and a million hungry boys all the time. 

It also means you can’t escape Keeley when you’re in the middle of prepping lunch. As soon as it’s served and cleaned up, you can go home. But for now, you’re at her mercy. 

“Keeley, just because I’m the only twenty-something girl on staff here doesn’t mean that I want to date a footballer. Go bother Samantha. She’s what, thirty and goes on dates every weekend? She’s a perfect candidate.”

Keeley pouts. “I’ll set up your whole profile for you. You don’t even have to tell me if you’re talking to someone, just if you like it, yeah? I’ll help you with meals for a week.”

You point your tongs at her. “You will not even think about touching my food for the rest of eternity,” you warn. 

“So you’ll do it, then?” Keeley asks, giving you the full puppy dog expression. 

You consider for a moment. You’re single at the moment, and have been for a good long while. It wouldn’t hurt to be on Bantr and anyway, it’s not like anyone will know who you are. 

“You’re sure it’s anonymous, then?” you ask. 

Keeley jumps up and claps her hands with a squeal. “Totally! Oh my god, I’m so excited for you. I’ll set it up right now. Give me your phone.”

You point to your bag. “It’s in there. Passcode is-”

“Already know it,” Keeley interrupts. You’re not going to question how or why, you just nod and throw your gloves in the trash. 

“Hairnet looks great on you, Keels,” you say conversationally. 

“Fuck you,” she replies, not looking up from your phone. “And- done! You’re ready to start bantering. Ooh, there are a LOT of men nearby! Wonder how many of them are part of AFC Richmond?”

You shoot her a glare, but she just grins. “Put my phone away,” you tell her. 

She slides it back into your bag. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if you like it. I’ll never ask for anything ever again,” she promises. 

You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Sure thing.”

—

STRIKE09 has sent you a message

You grab your phone as soon as it lights up. Keeley’s going to be fucking thrilled that you’re enjoying Bantr this much, and that you’ve been chatting with someone for a week. 

You open your phone to your chat. 

STRIKE09: finally off work

STRIKE09: how’s ur day

STRIKE09: burn anything?

BAKERGURL22: that was a one time thing!!

BAKERGURL22: work was fine. got off early so I could try a new recipe at home

BAKERGURL22: hbu?

STRIKE09: not bad. lads stole all my lynx so im going to boots to get more

BAKERGURL22: u really know how to romance a girl

STRIKE09: ah shit yea should probably try harder to impress u

You chuckle. Whoever STRIKE09 is, he’s been impressing you from the first day. Always asking questions about you, but never too invasive. Flirty, but not over the top. You’d set your age range in 20s-30s, so you were relatively confident this wasn’t some old creep. 

Your phone buzzes so you look down again.

STRIKE09: what did u make today?

BAKERGURL22: lemon cupcakes. not very healthy but super delicious

BAKERGURL22: I have to cook all this healthy stuff at work and sometimes I want to unwind and bake something with too much sugar ya know?

STRIKE09: bet theyre mint

BAKERGURL22: no they’re lemon

STRIKE09: oi, we got a comedian

BAKERGURL22: look, I had to make plain chicken and a salad with fucking olive oil as a dressing today

BAKERGURL22: it was so gross. I apologized 2 the staff but like, it’s what they all requested

BAKERGURL22: worried im gonna be banned from cooking ever again

Across Richmond, Jamie Tartt nearly drops his phone in Boots. He knows exactly who the girl on the other end of this conversation is. The question is, do you know who he is?

He’d assume no, based on the way you’ve been cagey about work. Not private enough though, because he remembers you making a face earlier that afternoon as you said, “Sorry this lunch is such shit, but I guess you all probably don’t care. I swear I’m a better cook than this.”

Jamie had smiled and kept moving, but he’d been thinking about your scrunched nose all day and the sweet way you said sorry.

What are the odds that he matched with someone who worked in the same building as him?

Apparently pretty high.

Jamie’s not really present the entire time it takes him to check out. He’s grateful that the combination of his hoodie plus the tired teen checking him out means he doesn’t have to talk to anyone. 

He kicks off his shoes and flops onto the couch as soon as he gets home, trying to figure out what to say. Should he say anything? What if he does and you decide you don’t like him?

He shrugs it off and puts his phone away for the night.

—

You frown at your phone for the hundredth time this morning.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Keeley asks from her position at the coffee pot.

“Haven’t heard back from my Bantr match. It’s really strange. We were talking last night and then he just stopped responding. He at least sends me a good morning message, but I haven’t even gotten that.”

Keeley gives you a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, babes. Ghosting is an epidemic. Have you looked at any of your other matches?”

You shake your head and say, “Nah, I wasn’t really interested in them. I really fucking liked this guy. He was sweet, funny, and so good at flirting. I dunno, maybe it’s easier to be like that because it’s all through a screen, but it felt like we had an actual connection.”

“Well, you don’t have to message anyone else if you don’t want to. You can delete the app altogether.”

You say, “Thanks, Keels,” then go back to chopping vegetables. One bright spot of the day is that lunch will be less shitty than yesterday.

You slide the vegetables in the salad just in time. You hear the familiar rumble of AFC Richmond coming in from the field so you plaster a smile on your face and get ready to pass them their lunch.

—

The rest of the afternoon slides by in a haze. You put an earbud in as you wash the dishes, say goodbye to the office staff, then head out the front door to your car. Someone calls your name and you jump. “Jesus, Jamie.” You turn around to see him push himself off the wall by the door. It looks like he’s been waiting there.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly. “You headin’ home?”

You say, “Yeah, I only work for part of the day. What are you doing out here?”

Jamie wraps his hands in the front of his shirt and considers what he’s going to say. He’s been thinking about it all morning, and he’s still not sure what the right approach is.

“Look,” he begins hesitantly, “y’know how Keeley’s promoting Bantr?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“I been chatting up this girl, like, and she- I dunno, I really like her. I was thinking we could meet in person but I don’t know if she’ll… fucking… want to.”

Christ, he’s stumbling over his words like a goddamn fool.

You raise an eyebrow and say, “Okay..? Are you looking for advice?”

You’re beyond confused right now. This is the longest Jamie has ever talked to you, and certainly the most awkward he’s ever been. Usually he takes his food with a wink and a “Thank, love.” Sometimes he’ll even through in a compliment.

Jamie untucks his hands just to shove them in his pockets. Fuck it.

“I know it’s you,” he says bluntly. You open your mouth to say something, but he keeps talking. “Figured it out last night when we were talking. You made lemon cupcakes yesterday, yeah? You hated lunch yesterday and said sorry for it like a million fucking times. My username is fucking stupid, just my position and number.”

He stops, unsure where to go from here. Meanwhile, your brain is whirring a mile a minute. 

“You’re Strike09,” you say slowly. Jamie nods and you slap your forehead. “Oh god, I was flirting with you! Shit, this is so fucking awkward. I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew who you were.”

“No, that’s the thing.” Jamie takes a few steps, closing the distance between you. “Don’t think we would’ve done it if we fuckin’ knew each other. But we did. And we like each other.”

Your head is still in your hand. This is too much. You’re conscious of the fact that you’re still in your hairnet.

You look at him just long enough to ask, “So what’s your point?”

“We should give it a go.”

You snort. “Yeah, right. What’s your actual point?”

Jamie looks at you incredulously as he says, “That is my actual fucking point! I like talking to you! I think you’re fit! I know I’m fit and you like talking to me. I sneaked out of training to talk to you. Told Roy I weren’t feeling well, and he’s gonna send someone to check on me soon so if you have a real reason why we can’t try dating, I want to hear it.”

“I don’t,” you admit. “It’s just a lot to process.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah, alright, yeah, sure. Let me know. Um, I have to get back before someone finds me. I’ll see you around.”

“See ya,” you halfheartedly reply. 

You think about Jamie the entire way home. You head straight to the kitchen and mechanically begin pulling out baking supplies. Cooking is fun, but it’s also your job. Baking is how you unwind. You’re halfway through an orange tart when you realize what you’re making. 

“Damn it!” you cry. Fucking Jamie. You smack down your spatula and grab your phone to text Keeley with a request. She responds almost instantly with Jamie’s phone number. 

He picks up on the second ring. 

“You rejecting me over the phone now?” he quips. 

“How’d you know it was me?” you ask. 

“Keeley,” he replies, and you can’t stop a smile from spreading across your face. 

“Same,” you say. “I wanted to tell you that I thought about it, and I want to go out with you. I don’t know when you’re free, but I’m around after 3pm pretty much every night. God, that sounds super lame.”

Jamie laughs. “So if you sent me your address, I could be at yours in…”

“Fifteen minutes,” you supply. 

“Set a timer, babe,” Jamie says. “Bet I can make it in ten.” 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso