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yellowharrington · 23 days

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save a horse (ride a cowboy!) -- joel miller x reader

pairing + fandom: joel miller x reader, the last of us (hbo)

word count: 3.9k

warnings/notes: smut and porn!!! minors DNI, 18+!!! no outbreak!au. she/her pronouns used, afab!reader (with mentions of body parts), no use of y/n. age gap (joel is at least 10 years older). drinking (both reader and joel), unprotected PIV, oral (f receiving), spanking, dirty talk, car sex. if i missed anything lmk!

a/n: recommended listening: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich. honourable mention to austin by dasha bc it's been on repeat. please take the time to leave comments/reblog if you liked it <3 thank u for reading!! divider by @cafekitsune

summary: meeting an older man at the bar and spontaneously fucking him in his truck was not on your list of things to do for your first summer back in austin, but what can you do?

You hate going dancing.

Sweaty clubs with bodies brushing up against one another, sticky with the hot summer heat, confined to the walls of a crowded bar and beer sticking to the bottom of your shoes. Not the way you plan to spend your first Saturday night back in Austin for the summer, but Maddy is so convincing, your hand clasped around yours, a pleading look in her eyes.

“I promise. It’s so fun. We’ll invite Kaylee and Erin and it’ll be a whole thing.”

You rolled your eyes at her, slipping your hand out from between hers. “Fine. One drink, one dance.”

She squealed with excitement and clapped her hands together, stepping up from the small cafe table. “We can pregame at mine. Wear that black top you have.”

You nod, thinking of the top in question. A corseted black thing that didn’t leave much to the imagination, breasts spilling out of the stop beneath the tight stitching. You think it probably got shoved to the back of your closet somewhere.

Joel hates going dancing.

Well, he doesn’t hate dancing. He just isn’t good at it, and hasn’t gone since his very early twenties. And he certainly would not be interested in spending the evening with Tommy at a country bar in downtown Austin, surrounded by women who would grimace at a pair of old men taking up a table.

But Tommy is convincing, hands gesturing around him annoyingly, until Joel gives in. “Fine. One drink. Then I’m leavin’.”

“This city is swarming with beautiful women,” Tommy says, knocking back another sip of his hot coffee. “And you’re too holed up inside to meet any of ‘em.”

“I like my own company,” Joel starts, bringing his own coffee mug to the sink. “Some of us are happy by ourselves.”

Tommy snorts, a hand clapping onto Joel’s shoulder. “Keep tellin’ yourself that, big shot. We’ll see when there’s a bunch of hotties in front of ya, then you can tell me that you like being alone.”

Joel gags at his use of the word ‘hotties’, and pulls his work boots on. “I can still change my mind, ya know.”

Night falls over the suburbs of Austin, taking the sunshine but leaving the humid, sweet heat in the air. You’re surrounded by your friends at Maddy’s apartment, a light pink gloss swiping across your lips. You’ve managed to dig out the top she had mentioned earlier, tied in a tight bow at the back. Your dark jeans hit just below it, letting slivers of smooth skin show, which somehow seemed sluttier than the fact your boobs were practically falling out of the top. Your jeans outlined the plump curve of your ass, a pair of dark cowboy boots adorning your calves. The last time you’d dressed like this was a long time ago, so it felt a little foreign, but not uncomfortable.

The cab ride to the bar is eventful, with 4 girls singing along to the songs on the radio at the top of your lungs. You were already a drink or two deep, having done some brightly coloured shot at Maddy’s house, taking it without thinking. You still weren’t planning on doing anything insane tonight, and bar drinks were expensive, so this was probably the best it was going to get for you.

The car pulls up to the bar and waits for you all to pour out, flashing your IDs to the bouncer, sliding inside past the thrums of people already inside. The bar was almost full, dance floor packed, drinks being poured by every bartender. Neon signs and amber lamps served as the only lighting for the establishment, already making things feel fuzzy around the edges for you.

Joel sits at a rickety wooden table in the corner of the bar with Tommy, scratching the wet label off of his beer bottle. He had fished out a plaid t-shirt from his closet, his usual jeans taught across his thighs and a pair of nicer boots than his work ones on his feet. His hair was pushed back, curls still lapping at the nape of his neck and curves of his ear. He was noticeably older than the other patrons of the bar, painfully aware of that fact, he felt rather uncomfortable. Tommy didn’t seem to mind, feet tapping at the beer-washed hardwood. “Stop lookin’ so mad,” he remarks, close to Joel’s ear. “You’ll scare ‘em all away.”

There are groups of people pouring in from outside, bachelorette parties and frat boys, making Joel feel unbelievably out of place. It was hard to lighten up when he wasn’t sure exactly what he was doing here.

The doors open once more, your group of friends pushing their way through the sea of people, hand in hand. Joel notices, one girl in a cowboy hat, one in denim jean cutoffs, one with a big belt buckle that glints pink against the light.

Then he notices you.

His face softens as you follow behind your friends, as they push to the front of the line for a drink. He’s got 10 years on you, easy, but that doesn’t stop his cock twitching against the zipper of his suddenly too-tight jeans.

Soft curves, a top that fits you just right, and jeans that accentuate the dips and lines of your body. You’ve got warm energy, a bright smile adorning your glossed lips.

You barely even notice him, until you turn around and make eye contact, your shining eyes meeting his. He’s too handsome for his own good, biceps and shoulders pressed tight against the sleeves of his shirt. He’s got his thighs spread across the chair he’s sitting in, towards you, almost like he wants you to come and just sit right on his lap.

You offer a small smile across the dim bar, taking your drink and following your friends to the last open table they’d spotted. A high top, back to the stranger now, giving him the opportunity to see your shape. He swears you’re sticking your ass out on purpose, so he can see the soft skin where your jeans meet the bottom of your top.

“Joel,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the bustle of the bar. “If you’re gonna be so fuckin’ miserable, we can go. There’s another place-“

Joel stops him, teetering his beer towards his brother. “This is fine. We can stay for another round.”

You pull yourself away from the group after finishing your round of sugary drinks and shots, your head beginning to buzz. “I’ll get the next ones,” you giggle, pushing yourself out of your seat and steadying yourself on the ground. “Green tea shots?” The girls hoot and holler back to you, as you turn on your heels towards the crowded bar.

Joel gets up, almost looking panicked, when he sees that you’re leaving your group. He downs the rest of his beer and tips his head towards Tommy, as if to ask, “another?”. Tommy nods and sits back in his chair, continuing to observe. Joel makes a beeline, able to slide right beside you in line.

You can smell the cologne and laundry detergent on his clothes while he stands behind you, shuffling on his feet. You can almost feel his nerves, radiating off of his large form.

He can smell your perfume and shampoo, it’s intoxicating.

Joel is served first, the bartender leaning forward to listen to his request. “Two Buds, and uh,” you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. If you couldn’t see that it was him, someone would have a black eye.

“What are you drinkin’, darlin’?”

His voice is sweet like honey as he dips down to be so unbelievably close to your ear, his hand now on the side of your arm. Heat spreads up your neck at his proximity.

“Oh, I’m getting like 4 shots, you don’t have to-“

“What kinda shots?”

“Uh, green tea. Green tea shots.”

“And four green tea shots.”

The bartender nods as Joel slides his cash across the bar, turning, and looking down at you slightly. You feel impossibly small in that moment.

“You really did not have to do that, thank you.” You’re on your tip toes, a hand pressed against his chest now, lips as close to his ear as you can get.

He shivers. He can’t remember the last time someone was this close to him in this way.

“No problem,” he waves it off, taking the two beers by the neck of the bottle and moving over slightly for you to grab the shots.

Your ass brushes across the front of his jeans, and he knows it’s intentional.

“Thanks again for the drinks,” and you’ve disappeared back into the crowd in a second.

Oh. Nevermind.

He can’t help but feel a little dejected, slinking back to his seat with Tommy and passing him his beer. “Struck out, huh?”

“Shut up.”

Joel watches your table still, annoyed, but not entirely surprised. Pretty stupid of him to think you’d want to fraternize with a man such as himself, so much older than you. Maybe he’d come off too strong?

His head is all but hanging in his hands when he watches you get up again, your friends coming along with you. He averts his eyes in embarrassment, not noticing that you’re making your way over to his table.

Tommy notices.

“Ladies!” He draws out, hands thrown up in the air. Joel looks up then, locking in eyes with you immediately.

“Didn’t think I’d leave you hanging, did ya cowboy?” A smile tugs at his lips as you extend a hand to him. “After you were so nice?”

He laughs a little, your other friend taking a hold of Tommy and pulling him towards the crowded dance floor. He’s very easily persuaded.

“Come dance with me!”

“Oh, I’m not a dancer,” he laughs, warm and honeyed. It makes heat pool in your core.

“Neither am I. Come anyways.”

All he can do is obey, taking your hand and letting you lead him away from the table.

The music pulses under your feet as you end up in a tight line, shoulder to shoulder. He can’t stop looking at you, leaning down to speak into your ear.

“I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I didn’t know how to dance,” he explains, and his breath is hot against the curve of your ear.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it when we start goin’. Just follow me.”

And I saddle up my horse

And I ride into the city

I make a lot of noise

Cause the girls

They are so pretty

Joel’s eyes are parked on your body as you start to move along to the steps of the line dance, feet tapping against the hard wood of the floor beneath you. Your hands are up by your face, clapping along to the beat. He tries to follow along, at least stepping in the right direction, clapping at the right time, but it’s no use.

Your body is insatiable - hips rolling to the pounding music. The curves and lines of your ass, paired with the soft tissue of your breasts nearly busting out of the top you chose to wear. Your skin is supple, shining against the dance floor lights that are favouring him right now as he lets a red blush engulf the skin of his cheeks and neck.

He wonders what it looks like underneath, peeled off and bunched up around your ankles, or thrown on the floor of his bedroom. He thinks of fingering the ties of your shirt, loosening them and pushing it off, his hand across the front of your throat as he makes you look at yourself. How pretty you are. Goosebumps spread across the exposed skin of his arm.

You grab his hand suddenly, and he’s taken out of his daydream. Your eyes are fiery as you let yourself get even closer to him, feeling bold enough to put his hand across the small of your back.

“Follow me,” you command, as he looks down at the footwork you’re doing along to the song.

Riding up and down Broadway

On my old stud Leroy

And the girls say

Save a horse, ride a cowboy!

He attempts to follow it again, egged on by the feeling of your hot skin against his thumb. He could honestly maybe cum just from this touch alone if he really tried.

It’s not actually as hard as he thought, if he concentrates. A few steps, repeated over and over again, until it comes naturally. You notice how easily he picks it up, smiling up at him, beaming up while he’s lost in thought.

The song picks up, and the whole floor is enthralled by the dance. You see Joel’s smile light up the room, and he hasn’t dared to move his hand from your back. You don’t mind.

When your body turns toward his, he halts before almost running into you, still following the steps along to the song.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

Your words take him by surprise, but they are not unwelcome.

“Yes.” His hand envelops yours as he takes a look at Tommy, seeing that he’s still in the throws of the song with your friends.

Your hand leads him off the dance floor and towards the club bathroom, but he stops you, lips close to your ear again. “My truck is parked out back, if we want, a little more, um,” he clears his throat, “privacy.”

“Show me the way,” you smile, letting him pull you out the doors and into the darkness of the parking lot.

He fishes for his keys nervously when you get to the side of his truck, an older model with blue paint. He can’t remember the last time he did anything like this, if he ever has, and it’s getting to his head.

“Let’s get in the back seat,” you say, taking him out of his trance. “Wanna feel you.”

He lets you in first, pushing across the bench seating as he slides in beside you. There’s a moment of awkwardness, before your hand reaches out to touch his denim-clad thigh. His breath hitches.

“Relax,” your smile is intoxicating to him, and he’s drinking you in. “We’re just here to have a little fun.”

He lets himself lurch forward, your lips pressed against his fervently. They’re rough and chapped, but cold from the beer he’d been nursing earlier, offering you some reprieve.

Your hand snakes up his chest to the side of his throat, pulling him in to come closer and delve deeper. His tongue comes out to lick across your teeth and press against the soft wetness of your tongue, as his hand comes up to palm your breasts over your top, grabbing at any flesh he can get his fingers on.

He quickly and deftly finds the bow Maddy had tied on the back, pulling it loose and letting the fabric relax so you he could pull it off of your form.

His hands began to explore the soft skin of your breasts, sucking a nipple into his mouth as you arch into him and let a strained moan come from your lips.

“Fuck,” is all you can think to say, because his large hands are spread across your back, forcing you closer, and into him. Soft moans escape your lips as you let him take what he needs from you.

“Off,” he commands suddenly, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans and yanking them down, after you pop the button and undo the zipper. Your boots have come off at some point in the tussle, and now you’re naked in the back seat of a stranger’s car with not much to say for yourself.

You push his flannel down his shoulders as his weight hovers over you, revealing how strong he really is. Rippling biceps beneath his tight shirt, strong chest, kind eyes.

You’re lying beneath him, when his hands come up under your thighs to push them apart and expose your pussy to him. He kneels between your soft thighs, thankful for the dark night sky around him, as he delves into your heat with his warm tongue.

You see stars when he makes first contact, a broad stripe of his tongue sending you into space. He’s hungry for it, immediately suckling onto your clit and wrapping his lips around it, strong hands still pushing your thighs apart. He’s taking his time to taste you, wild and intricate, feeling the bulge in his jeans strain against the zipper.

“Oh, fuck,” you manage to get out, in between breathless moans. Your hand came down to tangle in his hair, feeling the soft locks between your fingers, enjoying the way he’s making your hips roll onto his face. You can’t help but rut against him, soaking his wet mouth with your slick, using him to get yourself off.

He’s moaning into your pussy, working his own now-free cock in one of his hands, while the other delves two fingers into your core. Your breath catches in your throat when he fills you, stretching you open and wide for him, hitting the perfect spot to make your stomach start to spasm as you threatened to unravel beneath him.

“Fuck, so good, so so good,” you laugh breathlessly, the ecstasy beginning to take over as he continued to work your pussy, and you felt the familiar white-hot feeling along the back of your thighs.

“I’m gonna, — oh my god,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence before he was tonguing at you harder, eyes flickering up to watch you. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

“Good girl,” he growls into you, only offering you momentary reprieve from his tongue before using the rest of his energy to help you ride out your orgasm on his face. Your hips bucked and spasmed against him, the windows fogging up with your hot breath as you fucked yourself on his fingers. He let you pull on his hair as moans tumbled from your lips, breathless and spent.

When you managed to come down, he took his fingers from inside you and pumped his cock a few times, now bobbing in between the two of you as he slid himself up your body to kiss up your chest and capture your soft lips into a kiss.

“Sit back,” you whispered, pushing on his chest to bring him back sitting upright. His jeans were pooled around his ankles now, and you had pulled his t-shirt over his head to meet the other clothes on the floor of the truck. You positioned yourself across his lap, pumping his cock a few times and feeling the girth around your fingers.

He looked blissed out, head against the headrest, savouring the feeling of your pretty hand around him. If he looked down between your two bodies he might come right then, at the sight.

“You did so much work, baby,” you coo, sitting down on his thick cock and bottoming out immediately, just to watch his lips fall open and eyes flutter close at how tight you are. “Made me cum so easy.”

Your lips latch onto his neck as you kiss and lap at the rough skin, letting your hips rock back and forth, slowly at first. Getting used to his length inside of you would’ve been tough if he hadn’t opened you up so easily beforehand.

“Move,” his hands come to your waist, lightly forcing you to grind down on his lap. His cock was hitting inside of you so perfectly as you swallowed him into your body, looking down as his head lulled back against the seat. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he started, letting you set the pace of your hips, hand coming up to paw at your breast once more.

“You like this cock, don’t you?” You nod, letting your hand come to the seat behind his head and steadying yourself before beginning to bounce in his lap. “Yeah, fuck, yeah I do.”

He’s in his element now, any and all shyness from the newness of the situation melting away as he pounded into you mercilessly. The truck was no doubt shaking back and forth a little, a steadying hand print the only window to the outside world. Joel didn’t even care if people could see, they’d just be jealous.

“I’m gonna, fuck-,” he starts, eyes cloudy at the edges, vision fuzzy as he looked up at you. You were fucked out, cock-drunk on him, watching as he was coming undone underneath you as you squeezed around him. “Oh yeah?” You tease, not letting up on the rhythm of your hips, his hand coming down to your ass in a firm slap.

You moaned then, arching your back into him and sitting back. “Where do you want me?”

He’s desperate to cum now. Even the thought of your pretty face beneath him, taking his hot ropes on your soft pink lips is making him jerk forward into you with need.

He pushes you off, and you wince from the loss of contact. He’s fisting his cock above you right away, pink tip ready to explode any second at the sight of you, tits pressed together. Your mouth is open, and he sticks his fingers in between your lips as you moan around them, tasting yourself.

“Cum all over me,” you start, pinching your nipples with your free hand. “Fuck, I want it.”

It’s enough for his knees to buckle and hot cum to shoot all over your stomach and tits, painting you white with his seed. His eyes squeeze shut as you watch him ride his orgasm out, balls emptying onto you as he slows down and regains consciousness, taking a second to drink you in when he can open his eyes again.

Your breath is heaving as you take a finger to swipe some of his cum onto your finger, dipping the digit into your mouth. His brows furrow together as he pulls you up to kiss your lips, devouring you, hands coming up to each side of your face as if to thank you for such a good time.

“Been a while since I did anything like that,” he laughs, and you follow shyly. “You got like, a napkin?” You giggle, as he grabs something in the front seat for you to clean up with. “Thanks. That was fun.”

He nods in agreement, catching his breath before pulling his t-shirt over his head. “I suppose we should go back in there,” he checks his appearance in the rearview mirror, all blushed and fucked out.

You put your top back on over your body, turning towards him. “Can you lace me back up, please?”

His hands begin to work at you, tightening a bow at the bottom much like it had been done before.

A thought crossed your mind that made a giggle escape your lips. “What?” Joel asked, amused, pulling his jeans back on over his hips.

“I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He laughs too, thinking of the events that had transpired given neither of you knew such a basic piece of information.

“I guess we can stick with cowboy.”

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic

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earthtooz · 8 months

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x : THE JOKER AND THE QUEEN :*+ﾟ

in which: you are the best thing to ever to childe, but what will happen when you find out the truth about his profession?

warnings: 4k wc, fluff to angst, ambiguous ending huehue, childe is a whipped loser in love, set in canon, reader has undescribed trauma with fatui (ooo), reader is not referred to with pronouns or a gender but there is a mention of 'queen' (it's up to you how you see it), mentions of violence, childe being referred to as 'ajax', argument, both reader and childe cry, aether and paimon appearance!

a/n: this one might hurt. apologies. (girl u know i want ur love...)

The sun is radiant gold when Childe walks down his peaceful, routine path, away from the bustling commerce centre and towards a peculiar place that he’s called home in Liyue. There are still a million tasks yet to be completed, but for now, his feet take him to the solitude that waits for him at the end of day.

When Childe arrives at the manor that is his residence in this foreign city, there’s a lifeless kind of calm, the rustling of leaves and flowing stream are the only things to welcome him, but he knows better. Doesn’t need to confirm it when his feet naturally take him upstairs, winding through corridors and towards the balcony that overlooks the horizon.

The view is very picturesque, overlooking the grandiose Liyue mountains that are decorated with incomparable flora and fauna, but you are there, and he can’t bring himself to look anywhere else.

You are the best reprieve for his tiring days, and although he will be returning to the Northland Bank to try and solve some of his troubles, the majority of them can be quelled by your presence alone.

“My darling,” the words slip past his lips without any trouble, and the relief he feels when you turn around and smile at him is insurmountable. Suddenly his hardships dissipate, his lungs are cleared, and his limbs don’t feel as heavy anymore (he can’t think of many people who grin up at him like you do. He hopes you never stop smiling at him like that).

Still, he walks to stand in front of you, and collapses to the floor, resting on his knees by your feet like a faithful jester to his queen. His armour drops and Childe becomes nothing but a man in love before you because there is nothing more human than loving someone more than yourself.

“Why so exhausted, Ajax?” You ask.

“The days are bothersome, my love,” he murmurs quietly, slightly muffled, but he then turns his head to look up at you, arms now hugging your calves. “But coming home to you make them infinitely better.”

“Any good home will bring you comfort,” you deflect, but your words reminds him of a distant, golden memory back in Snezhnaya. The unforgiving, snowy plains had always been his home, the frost that clung to dead tree branches, and the footsteps that he and his siblings left behind in the blankets would were memories of easier times, but here, sitting by you with a chin on your knees, is a memoir of his favourite home.

The sensation of your hand running through his orange locks take him out of his daydreams, and he melts right into your touch, blood-stained hands completely and wholly attached to you. He commits you to memory, savours the feeling of your warmth against his so he can feel it even whilst he’s away from you.

Can a home be a person?

He dares to close his eyes. Here, he is safe. Here, he can rest peacefully.

“How was your day?” Asks Childe, stimulating pointless conversation so that he could talk to you and hear your voice that will power him through the tedious night to come.

You begin to talk about the things you had to do today, about the customers you had to deal with, about the errands you still need to run, and all the pressing orders you needed to attend to- hearing it all places an aching weight on his chest. If Childe could have things his way, you wouldn’t need to work at all. You would live life peacefully by his side, without a day of stress as you roam around Liyue Harbour or anywhere else you would want to go, with him holding your arm (would you return to Snezhnaya with him?).

Alas, life is not so easy nor carefree, but you make it significantly better.

“How pretty is the sunset,” you comment. “Look.”

He almost doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to put any space between the two of you because looking at the sunset means turning around to face the rays that warm his back, but it’s you who asked him, so Childe turns around and observes the gorgeous blend of colours. He then decides that it’s nothing compared to your beauty.

“Yes, yes, splendid,” the orange-haired agrees, promptly turning back around to look up at you, with a sickening amount of love evident in his eyes.

“You didn’t even look properly.”

“I’m looking at something much more important right now.”

You shy away at your lover’s blatancy, pushing his face to the side to break his gaze. “Such unabashed flattery, do you have no shame?”

“None! None at all!”

You sigh, a smile creeping at the corners of your lips, timidity teasing Childe as he aches to see more. Reaching for your hands, he intertwines his around them, feeling light as he basks in the softness of your touch that starkly contrast the roughness of his hardened palms.

His gentle action causes your bracelets to jingle, pure gold and the finest gems of Liyue tinkering quietly against each other. They are gifts from him, he knows because he only buys the best for you.

“Will you be staying tonight?” You ask.

His gaze sadly falls to the ground as a regretful, ‘no, I won’t be’ slips past his lips. Tonight, instead of being in your company and resting beside you under the gentle beams of the moonlight, his dedicated Fatui subordinates will be with him instead. The blood on his hands will accumulate and pool by his feet as outstanding debts and scores will be settled, signed with fear and horror as the silence of Liyue sees an unspeakable monster.

Then, the monster will come crawling to you, fatigued and dirtied with an unrestrained desire to be by your side for as long as time will allow.

“That’s a shame,” you mutter and Childe winces at the disappointment in your tone. “You work too hard, you know?”

“It’s just what I need to do,” murmurs the orange-haired, “wish I could spend more time with you, though.”

“It’s alright, as long as I get to see you, I’m happy.”

He rests his cheek on your knee once more, eyes drooping close. Frighteningly quick, the fatigue he feels from all of his laborious duties catch up to him, latching onto him like a parasite. A nap wouldn’t hurt,

Nothing can take you away from him, not without a fight. He will bear his teeth, slash his swords until the blades dull, until his bow snaps in half, and until all that’s left of him is a pulp that lies helplessly on the floor, the love pouring from his wounds. Childe only hopes that his last moments are spent in your embrace.

But what will become of this warrior when you’re his opponent? What if you are the one he fights against- what then?

When you wake up one, unassuming morning, you wake up alone. No Ajax to accompany you, the only indication that he was here being the breakfast he had prepared for you that sat atop the counter top. The warmth of the meal lingers, meaning that he must not have left that long ago, and you have to wonder how he knows you so well to guarantee that breakfast is still warm by the time you come down.

Retrieving a book from the main entrance’s bookshelf, you catch a glimpse of a large box sitting on the entrance table. There is a note beside it, addressed to ‘Traveller’ and signed with ‘Childe’- the name Ajax has supposedly taken up whilst here in Liyue; a merchant name of sorts, he claims.

You mentally note to listen extra carefully for any knocks at the door, but for now, the promise of a day of relaxation and no work relieves you. Being swamped up in all of your duties meant that you kept forgetting to tell Ajax that you were free for the day, but perhaps you’ll surprise him with a filling and hearty dinner. Work didn’t seem to be all that easy for him either, so you’re sure he’d appreciate the gesture.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, was discovering a secret that your lover had been hiding from you all this time- in the form of two travellers.

The anticipated knock on the door came near noon, and two voices from the other side are muffled by the heavy material of the entrance. “Childe said no one would be home, why would you knock?” A high-pitched voice berates.

“Because manners, Paimon!” A male voice retaliates, “even if no one was home, it’s nice to make sure. We shouldn’t barge in without warning.”

“Can you unlock the door yet? Paimon’s dying to know what inside looks like! This property looks so expensive, can you even how much Mora this place is worth! I bet the inside is even-”

The conversation is cut short when you open the door with a soft click, pulling it open slightly. What you’re greeted by, however, is a blond boy with a floating companion, who both wear similar expressions of shock.

“Uh, hello!” You greet with a small smile, feeling slightly awkward.

“Hello, is this Childe’s residence?” The floating one- who you assume is Paimon, asks.

“You’re at the right place.”

“But he told us no one would be home today!”

“He would be right normally, but I have the day off work. Are you two travellers?”

“Yeah, we are! And who are you?”

“My name’s Y/n, I’m Childe’s significant other.”

“Childe has a lover?” Paimon’s eyes widen even more if that was even possible. To be honest, this whole scenario was incredibly entertaining. “Since when!”

“We’ve been together for a while. Has he never mentioned me?”

“No! I didn’t even think he could have one with his line of work-”

“-Uhm, we’re kind of in a hurry, I apologise for cutting the conversation,” the blond boy apologises, giving his companion a look before glancing back at you, friendly smile and shining eyes to match his innocent demeanour. “We’re here to pick up something.”

“Ah yes, I did see it. It is rather big, though, could I trouble the two of you to help me bring it out?” You ask, feeling rather embarrassed to bother your guests, but you don’t feel confident to carry the package alone.

“No trouble at all,” he reassures.

“We can come in, right?” Paimon asks, voice lilting up an octave as mirth shines in her eyes.

“Yes, yes, no need to take off your shoes.” You open the door wider for the two, the floating one flying in first, immediately marvelling at the interior, admiration tangible whilst the blond is a little more reserved, thanking you first before coming in.

What an intriguing pair.

“My name is Aether, and that’s Paimon. I just realised we hadn’t introduced ourselves.”

“It’s lovely to meet the two of you. Do you do business with Childe often?” Your tongue almost strains at the mention of his business name, but if your boyfriend had appearances to keep, then you needed to try to uphold it too.

Paimon flies over to Aether, joining the conversation. “You could say that. Sometimes he causes more trouble than it’s worth!”

“That sounds like him,” you huff, an affectionate smile appearing on your face. “The package is right here, but like I said, it seems quite heavy.”

“Allow me,” Aether volunteers, stepping forward to carry the box by himself. He stumbles a little due to the weight, and you hold your hands out just in case.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

The blond merely huffs before shifting the box to one arm. “No need, we’re troubling you enough already.”

“I see. I apologise, if I had known what time you were coming I would have brewed some tea for you two, Liyue has a very fine selection,” you say, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Aww! Paimon would have loved to try some!”

“Thank you for the offer, I would have liked to try some too, but we are short for time,” Aether explains.

“Then just wait here, I’ll fetch a bag for you to keep on your travels.”

You leave the entrance room before either of them have the chance to reject your offer, and you’re back almost immediately. A new batch you ordered just came in yesterday, so it did not take long for you to try and figure out which one you would like to gift Childe’s… ‘client’.

“Here,” you hand it to Paimon, who hugs the bag closely to her body. “Travellers need to be at their top shape, right? Hopefully this is something that will rejuvenate you on your journey.”

“This is too kind,” Aether begins, “thank you. We’ll make sure to great care of it.”

“It’s fine! Anyone that is associated with Childe are welcomed here, so long as they’re a nice person that is,” you laugh.

“You can bet we’re the nicest of the bunch!” Paimon exclaims. “I doubt he meets many nice people being a Fatui Harbinger and all!”

A… what?

Sensing the sudden shift in your mood, Aether’s eyes widen and he tugs at the leg of his companion. “Uh, it was nice meeting you Y/n! Paimon and I will be off now, thank you for the package and tea!” The last statement is nothing but a blend of words toppled over each other as the two practically hurry out of the estate, door slamming behind them in their rush.

Their abrupt leave didn’t impact you much though, because what did Paimon mean when she said ‘Fatui Harbinger’? Was… Ajax hiding something from you? Or is he Childe? What is the use for a merchant name, anyways? Businessmen don’t usually have identities to keep, but how dire could it be in his industry? After all, second names are only used when wanting to protect yourself from harm, to keep people from knowing who they truly were… a code name for… an organisation like the Fatui to identify them by.

You feel sick, and your hand weakly snakes up to cover your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the table for some sense of stability in your crumbling world.

Memories come flooding back like a tidal wave, drowning you in the heaviness of the thoughts that clasp around your ankle like anchors. It’s hard to push them away, to ease your mind from the nauseating images that still haunt you to this day: the desperation of your family, the cries, the helpless feeling of being a mere pawn in the game of the Fatui.

(It hurts to think that you never escaped. After finally surviving through years of hardship, you’ve returned right into the hands of those who caused it, and the thought reminds you of how defeatable you always will be.

Ajax- Childe, has likely caused devastation similar to the one that wrecked your village years ago. He has blood on his hands, the same ones that have held you tightly against him and stroked your hair. You have kissed his lips- ones that command horrendous acts for others to see through. You love his heart, the same one that probably froze over in Snezhnaya years ago.

You are with someone who has inflicted pain and suffering onto others, and will continue to do so for years to come. But worst of all, you are with a liar, who now makes you question what is and isn’t true.)

Childe returns home at sunset, the rattling of his keys against wood causing fear to crawl down your spine.

“I’m home!” His cheery voice calls from the front door, and to his surprise, you are sitting on one of the more uncomfortable couches that is merely for decor rather than functionality. “My love, why are you sitting there? There are far more comfortable seats for you-”

“Welcome home, Childe.”

He pauses in his steps and feels the world stop momentarily. “Darling? What’s with the name?” The Harbinger tries to laugh, but really, you’re scaring him. Very much so. “Come on, you know you don’t need to call me that. Here, I brought back some food that I thought you would enjoy from-”

“When were you going to tell me?” You’re standing now, slowly stepping towards him as your clothes flow with your every movement. Childe has no time to admire though, not when you and this swirling premonition in his gut is frightening him.

“Tell you what?” The pit in his stomach already knows.

“Must you act a fool?”

“To what?” He continues because it’s his first instinct to lie. “Darling, please tell me what is troubling you.”

“Please don’t play dumb, I just need the truth, especially now out of all times, are you really a…” you plead, voice trailing off as you hold yourself back from shattering. “You’re not who I think you are, are you?”

“Why do you sound so sad? What happened?” He whispers, beginning to feel the back of his eyes burn as tears invade his eyes.

“A-are you really with the Fatui? A Harbinger, too?” The words fall from your mouth like anvils and suddenly the title that brought him pride and honour through the years dulls. His eyes widen, and the gulp of his throat is all you need to know.

“I love you,” large, blistered hands desperately reach for you, aching to hold you still because he’s terrified. What if you slip through his fingers and run? What if you go somewhere he can’t follow? “I love you-”

“Just give me the truth, Ajax. I practically know, I just need to hear it from you,” you choke. The call of his name causes him to cave, a hesitant ‘yes’ slipping past his lips, crushing you with the weight of the truth. You cry first and like dominoes, his tears follow.

“Don’t cry,” he hiccups through his own sobs, hands locking around your wrists like bracelets. “I hate it when you cry.”

“Childe-”

“It’s Ajax to you,” the Harbinger pleads, grip tightening in desperation.

“I don’t know what you are to me anymore!” You retaliate, “this whole time, you’ve been lying to me when you know about what happened. I’ve told you everything, and you still decide to keep this from me!” You stumble away from him with more force than necessary, bumping into a table nearby and causing the vase that adorns it to drop. A shrill crack echoes through the room, and instantaneously, he rushes to your aid, asking if you’re hurt as pieces of fina china lay on the floor, water pooling around his feet.

Mixed in the puddle, are the anxieties and worries that come fumbling out of his mouth. He then pretends like it doesn’t break his heart when you scramble away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You ask, voice strained and quiet.

“If I had told you, would you have stayed, or would you have ran away?”

Your silence chokes him, filling up his airways with lead as he nervously awaits your answer. “I don’t know, but I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Childe’s expression glistens with sadness, so crystal clear that it makes his eyes gleam like diamonds deep from the Chasm. “I see.”

“-But I would have appreciated it hearing from you than someone else.”

“Then how did you found out?” He demands, forcing his tone to be soft.

“If I tell you you’ll go and hurt them,” you murmur. “I don’t want that to happen.”

With one look at you, it’s clear that you think Childe will hurt you too with the way you cower from him, as if he could ever lay a finger on you or even point a blade in your direction, but the vision hanging on his hip feels heavier than ever. It’s a haunting reminder of who he is, and what he is capable of.

You feel miles away, how on Teyvat is he going to pull you back?

“Who are you really?”

“I’m yours-”

“-I’m not in the mood for your flirtatious quips,” you snap, hugging yourself.

“But it’s true, I love you, Y/n, don’t you know?”

“No, no I don’t. I don’t know what else you’re lying about.”

“Oh come on,” he exasperatedly exclaims, “we’ve been together for so long, the day we met you met the real me, as Ajax, not Childe of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. What’s the big deal? Just because I follow the Tsaritsa doesn’t mean I’m not the same Ajax you know, Y/n, please.”

“It’s not only that you’re apart of the Fatui, Ajax- the world is grey, there are things I will never understand. I’m upset because you lied. Like you said, we’ve been together for so long, yet I’m only finding out about this now, so what else don’t I know?” Your voice breaks.

He takes a step forward, but you only take one back, maintaining the distance even though the Snezhnaya native wants nothing more than to just hold you, to secure his place by your side because what can he do without you?

“What else are you keeping from me? What can I trust about you anymore? You say your real name is Ajax, but how can I know that?”

Seeing you so upset, so glum, so devoid of the light that makes you you causes his heart to cease, his throat to dry, and sheer terror to flood through him.

Childe’s seen the face of death, multiple times before, yet he’s never been this scared in his whole life. He’s losing you, he can feel it, but what can he do about it? What can he say that could possibly bring you back? (What good is a jester without the throne he was sworn to entertain? You can’t desert him, he will perform a thousand tricks if it enamours you into staying, will sacrifice more of himself to you if it means you will remain here, safe and sound in his arms.)

You are the reason he returns home everyday, to make sure that you are healthy, happy, and most importantly, that you haven’t left him without a word. If he had to, he would have killed for you, fought anyone and everyone until all that remained of him was the warrior heart that beat for you. But he could have never preempted this, nothing could have ever prepared for him to be the reason that you were leaving.

“I need some space,” you murmur, “to think this all through. Give me some time.”

“What? No,” murmurs the orange-haired. “No, no, no, we can talk about this, right?”

“Talking won’t do anything, I need time alone.”

The idea of being away from you causes Childe to almost sink to his knees and succumb to the bones in his body that ache to beg at your feet to stay. The cry of your name is weak, but so very desperate as he looks at you through a blurry vision.

You’re walking towards the front door, each step you take is another one away from him, away from the paradise that he’s been gifted. There are many ways he can stop you right now, his options are far from limited and although they are physical, they are all very effective, but he surrenders instead. Drops his weapons as he lets you go.

“How long?” Is all that Childe asks.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, hand reaching for the door knob.

“No more than two weeks, please.” Childe doesn’t know if he can handle being away from you for even a day, let alone fourteen.

“I’ll try.”

“I’ll search all of Teyvat if that’s what it takes to bring you home,” he affirms, clearing through sobs just to get the words out. He doesn’t back down without a fight, that’s just who he is, so his next words are etched with certainty and clarity, hoping to pierce your defences with arrows of undying devotion. “That’s a promise.”

“I know.”

You shut the door behind you.

apologies if there is incorrect lore + if anyone is mischaracterised LOL i have only been playing genshin for like a month.

@fallenssun for u :>

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader fluff #tartaglia x reader fluff #ajax x reader fluff #genshin x reader fluff #childe fic #tartaglia fic #ajax fic

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lokisgoodgirl · 3 months

Text

A Quiet Storm [Loki x Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A stormy morning and a sleepy Loki in your bed. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki x Female Reader. Established relationship. Mild somnophilia. Light, fluffy smut. (w/c 1.2k)

Wind batters against the windows. It buffets the eighty-seventh story with the strength of a god’s fury, rattling the glass.

Rain sounds like hailstones. It has done for the past twelve hours. And it's beautiful, in a primal sort of way. It lulled you to sleep, alone. But as you try to snuggle deeper into the duvet, you realise that most of it is missing.

Turning, you find a familiar wall of pale muscle. You smile softly. No wonder you felt so safe in the storm. He came in at some point during the night, careful not to wake you. But despite his good intentions, Loki is a chronic bedsheet thief. Always has been.

Dull light makes a faint line across his body, from his neck and over the thick of his back. Loki’s hair spreads against his pillow like ink on fresh towels, curling and winding its tendrils into every available space. Your nose traces the sharp line of one shoulder-blade, inhaling the warmth that lingers on his skin.

He showered. Steve said it might be a messy one last night.

The god is facing away from you, one leg draped over the other, bedsheets trapped between his thighs. The room is cold, and the more you awaken, the more you notice the ripple of goose-bumps bristling up your calves.

Loki is fast asleep, that’s plain enough. The portion of his torso visible above the sheets is rising and falling steadily. Peacefully.

Rain slaps against the glass, another gust of winter gale howling around the panes. Without looking, you know that one arm will be tucked under his pillow, the other bent at a way that makes his triceps bulge in that effortlessly sensual way. You place a sleepy kiss between his shoulders, no more than an angels touch. And with all the care you can muster, you try to tug the sheets in your direction.

Loki stirs, groaning with unintelligible annoyance. You snuggle closer, squashing your cheek against the hard expanse of his back. Fingers creep tentatively over the ridges of his abdomen, pausing to ghost the solid dent of his obliques. His breaths rise and fall in undisturbed slumber.

The hand comes to rest in the centre of his chest. You can feel his heartbeat, the same as your own. One leg rises and slips beneath the sheet he hoards, your thigh finding its home against his hipbone. Loki’s perfect ass presses against your lower belly, the increasing heat from your exposed sex millimetres from his skin. One calf lies flush against his, bent at an angle. Tangled over him. “Mornhnigk.” he grumbles sweetly, voice thick with sleep.

He’s not awake, not really. You smile against his neck, closing your eyes.

Nuzzling into his hair, you appreciate that this is the god you see. This is the Loki you see. The one who feels safe in your bed. The one who feels safe in your love.

Another kiss finds its way pressed against his hair. You nose rogue strands aside, capturing the edge of his delicate earlobe between your lips with a gentle sigh. He smells so good, like fresh cotton and your shower-gel.

He came straight here, you think, heart skipping as you imagine him striding from the Quinjet in darkness and making a beeline for your apartment. Stripping off in your bathroom, not his own. His leathers a tangled heap on your hallway floor, no doubt. He came straight home.

Irresistible. That's what he is. Even if you wanted to leave him be, not touch him, adore him, you don't think you could. The quiet storm of love you have for him rages inside you with all the ferocity of the one outside. Unstoppable. Undeniable.

Loki’s back arches slightly as he works his face deeper into the pillow. It presses his muscular ass into your crotch. Your fingers slip down his stomach, pads catching on the silken trail of fine hairs leading towards his groin. Heat increases as you move closer to his centre, radiating from his skin. Suddenly aware of how cold your hands must be, you flinch as the head of his cock brushes your pinky. The tip is slightly wet.

He’s usually horny as hell when he comes back from missions. It must have taken all his willpower not to wake you. Or at least resist the urge to hold you, burying his erection between the curve of your cheeks. The thought of his gentlemanly resistance makes your stomach flip with desire.

A small sigh escapes him as you trail a solitary digit up his velvet cock, tall and strong against his stomach. You’ll never get used to how soft the skin is. Chalk and cheese to the way he can make you cum as he rails you masterfully with the force of a wild tempest. The finger catches on the thick vein that runs to the root, and you play with it, grazing up and down its route with a ghost-like touch. Loki sighs again, shoulder-blades twitching.

Needy fingers wrap around his girth, squeezing gently.

Loki purrs. A low, rumbling sound which chimes with the patter of raindrops against glass. His cock twitches in your hold, eager for his mistress’s adoration as you trace your delicate grip to the tip. The god’s hips thrust lightly into your hold, rocking himself deeper into the tantalisingly pleasure his sleeping form finds itself. His foreskin gathers beneath your fingers as you massage gently, before sliding it back down.

Loki gasps. The mattress shifts as your lover’s waking body turns with care, shoulder muscles clenching as he pushes up against the bed and lays on his back. One of his hands stretches up and slides behind his head while your own continues its slow pump of his swollen cock beneath the covers. So slowly, back and forth.

He blinks several times, watching the work of your hand before his sultry stare finds your own. His eyes flash, still hooded from dreams. “Did you miss me?” he asks groggily, knowing the answer. Loki leans forward, kissing you deep. His warm tongue searches your own, strands of his wild hair sticking to your lips. You can feel his lower body clench and jolt as your strokes grow firmer, his left hand itching against the sheets as he clenches and unclenches a fist.

A particularly ferocious wave of wind slaps against the window, making you flinch. Your hand grips his cock even tighter, making him hiss with pleasure.

As you loosen, Loki’s brow furrows in feigned pity. “Are you scared, little one?” he purrs. It’s tipped with loving condescension in that filthy way that only he could muster. “Do you need a big, strong god to to protect you as the realm’s elements rage?” You bite your lip to stifle a smile, nodding. “So scared,” you confirm in a girlish whisper. Loki sniffs, raising his chin. He looks down from half-lidded eyes, un-styled locks of curl falling around his jaw. “Come then,” he utters, moving the hand behind his head to pat your pillow. “We must ensure you are thoroughly...protected.” You squirrel down in to the blankets, facing away from him while he draws you near. His throbbing cock pulses against your ass, against your thighs, searching kisses working a trail up the curve of your neck.

“I will always protect you,” he mutters earnestly as you feel a hand slip between your bodies.

The crown of his manhood slides against your entrance, slipping against wetness. He hums contentedly, nudging the tip as you clench around air. Loki's body melts against yours like a finger dipped in wax. His abdominal muscle pulses against your back as he tries to steady his breaths.

In moments, a dark moan floods your ear as he squeezes inside. The feeling of peace is immediate. Loki stills, breathing softly against your skin.

“Always,” he groans quietly as he bottoms out.

He only withdraws an inch with every careful thrust, rocking you gently as you move against him. With him. You’re vaguely aware of his dexterous fingers toying with a nipple, the suck of his kiss on your neck, the happy sounds of your own moans as he fucks you in rippling waves.

All the world dissolves. All you hear is the white noise of his loving praise. His delicate pleasures. Safety.

All there is, is him. And outside, the storm rages on.

Tags (contd in comments)

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @buttercupcookies-blog

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x yn #loki odinson #lokismut #loki oneshot #loki fluff #loki gifs #loki (marvel)#loki x f!reader #loki laufeyson smut

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purplesuitcowboy · 24 days

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tw: rape and incest

During college, Abigail had gotten into pilates. All of the girls on her hall did it together every Saturday. They all get dressed in their work out gear, line up their brightly colored yoga mats on the campus green and run through the sequences of movements together as a group. If she needed help, she could always count on one of the other girls to help her stretch or show her the proper form for a movement. It was a nice atmosphere and Abigail found herself looking forward to it every week.

Coming home for summer break, Abigail promised herself that she would keep up her pilates practice at home so she wouldn't be out of practice when the school year started back up in the fall. By herself, she sat up her yoga mat in the back yard and began to run through the movements. Downward facing dog.. breathe..stretch and then gently shift into plank...breathe..stretch. She was so busy running through the movements that she didn't notice her dad who was watching her from the back porch. She was laying down with her back on the mat and her legs open, spread out like she was doing the splits.

"What are you doing over there, babydoll?" He asked her, leering at her young nubile body from his perch on the porch. Those leggings on her where absolutely sinfully, clinging to her round ass and full hips. From his vantage point, he could just see the outline of her puffy pussy lips through the thin material of her leggings. It didn't seem like she was wearing any panties under her leggings. Truly, it was blessing that his wife and son where out leaving him alone with his daughter.

"Just pilates, daddy. Actually, can you come down here and help me stretch?"

"Sure," he told her, walking over to join her. "Just tell me what you want me to do." He'd thought about adjusting his hard on so that she wouldn't see it but decided against it. She was a big girl. She could handle knowing what her body did to her daddy. It might even help her, maybe, convince her to be more thoughtful about what she wore around me.

"Press my legs down."

He settled between her open legs, and placed his hands on her thighs pushing down on them like he was trying to drive them into the ground.

"That feels great. Thank you," she took a deep breath, and tried to relax into the stretch.

"You're real flexible now aren't you, baby?" He told her appreciatively. He was loosing focus on the goal of the activity, running his hands down her legs. He hadn't been this hard in years. She just giggled and waved him off while she adjusted her legs, bringing them together and then pulling them towards her like she was trying to kiss her knees. When she was settled, he resumed trying to help her stretch. With his hands place on the backs of her calves, he pushed her legs towards her. In their new position, Abigail could easily feel her dads hard cock pushing against her cunt. Experimentally, he rolled his hips against her, rocking his cock against her. The head of his cock brushed against her clit, forcing a reluctant gasp out of Abigail's lips.

"Daddy, this is wrong." She told him, trying to push him off of her. He grabbed her wrists, and pinned them above her head with one of his hands so she couldn't stop him. Her legs fell on either side of him as he positioned himself between her legs. She bucked again trying to get him off of her but he was too heavy. He adjusted his hold on her, one hand holding her wrists, and on tightly gripping her hip as he continued to rut into her. Her pussy gushed liquid, soaking into and darkening the crotch of her leggings.

"We're outside what if the neighbors see," she tried again, changing tactics.

"I don't care who sees now either we can do this the easy way or the hard way, either way I'm getting me some of this," he punctuated his statement by groping one of her ass cheeks. "Now take of these leggings or I'll take them off you myself."

Abigail worriedly chewed on her lip as she looked around at the surrounding houses. All someone would have to do was look out of their window to see the two of them. She was filled with fear but also the thrill of doing something risky, the anticipation that anything could happen. Hesitantly, she rolled the bottom of the leggings off of her ass, and down her legs. Carelessly, her father pulled them off of her legs and deposited them on the ground beside her. Releasing her wrists, he pushed her legs open, revealing her little pink pussy.

"That's a good girl. God, you've got a pretty pussy," he told her.

"Don't say that, you're making me feel weird," Abigail replied, covering her eyes with her hands so she wouldn't have to see. Despite her horror, she found herself peaking at him from between her fingers.

He dipped his head between her legs, caressing her folds with his tongue. He alternated between licking up and down her slit, and gently sucking on her clit. All the while, Abigail moaned and whimpered behind her fingers. "Delicious." As he licked and sucked, he worked a thick finger into a tight cunt, pumping it in and out, and then he added another. Abigail's moans increased in volume as he fucked her with his fingers. Her mind was reeling, she'd masturbated before but it never felt this good.

Eventually, the pleasure won out and she gave up on hiding behind her fingers, resting her hands on her fathers head as she grinded her cunt onto his fingers and tongue. It just felt so good. She wanted more, she wanted him deeper. It just wasn't enough.

"Fuck, baby. You got me all worked up," her father told her as he pushed himself off of her, his hands rushing to his belt so he could pull out his fat cock. She gasped at the sight of it, trying to wriggle away from him. He clambered over her and positioned the head of his dick against her tight hole.

"Wait, daddy. Don't," she begged, breathlessly. His mouth and fingers had felt amazing but surely, this was a step too far.

"No, can do buttercup," he told her. "I want this cunt now and you are not gonna stop me. God couldn't stop me from fucking this sweet pussy." In one fluid motion, he thrust his full length into her tight cunt. Abigail squealed and her eyes teared up as she was suddenly stretched and filled completely by her fathers big dick. Showing great foresight, he covered her mouth with his hand, dampening the sound of her cries.

"Shh, baby, you don't want the neighbors to see, right?" he told her, as he began to rock his cock in and out of her tight channel. As he found his rhythm, Abigail's squeals of pain became moans of pleasure. Satisfied that she wouldn't scream, he removed his hand from her mouth and pushed up her sports bra, freeing her tits from the confines of her tight top. They bounced in time with her father's thrusts.

"You feel so good, baby. Your little pussy feels so good on your daddy's fat cock."

Abigail slid her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit as her father fucked her. With the additional sensation, she quickly brought herself to orgasm, writhing on her father's cock as she came. Her cunt squeezed him like a vice, pushing her father to his own orgasm. He shot his thick load into her cunt, filling her up with his cream. He pulled out of her with a grunt, and rolled over, laying next to her with his back on the grass. He checked his watch. They wouldn't be back home for another couple of hours, that was totally enough time for another round or two.

#cnc fr33use #cnc k!nk #1cky daddy #daddy k!nk #rap3 fantasy #rough cnc #rough kink #1cky thoughts #abuse k1nk #fauxc3st #fauxcest #fr33use

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soap-ify · 2 months

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i was wondering if you could write Price praising/body worshipping his girlfriend (the reader) for being so good even when he gets home from a mission? ᰔ She’s been so good waiting for him to get back and always listening to him in bed, he missed her so much and wants to thank her for everything she always does

instead of him coming home and crashing he’s so happy to be back with her and praises her endlessly while fucking her so good !

oh price would just be the sweetest!

cw — cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, soft sex he's so in love, subtle religious imagery.

this mission was a brutal one, grotesque images simply etched onto price’s head as he opened the door of his house, his mood nothing short of foul. that was until he smelled the comforting scent of his home and you that his mind started to clear a bit, features softening up out of pure adoration.

oh, you. he could never be less grateful, just so enamoured by how dear you were. quickly undoing his boots and putting them aside, he marched towards the bedroom, fully determined to thank you properly for waiting for him.

ending up in between your legs while he kneeled on the ground with all your clothes scattered besides him, he didn’t even let you greet him properly after you saw him, silencing all your worried questions with his mouth that was busy with your cunt, his tongue dragging up and down your sensitive clit deliberately slow while applying just the right amount of pressing, two thick fingers gently thrusting in and out of your warm hole, curling up inside to hit that sweet spot that made you moan oh so deliciously.

“been so good f’me, hm? such a sweetheart, always doing an amazing job taking care of everything while m’gone for work.” he mumbled and pulled away for a second, letting you catch a glimpse of his beard glistening with your wetness, those blue eyes of his half open and soft, looking at you so fondly.

he hated leaving you all alone in this house in agonising suspense whenever he’d be gone for missions, even after all the promises he’d make of coming back safe to you, promises he never broke. still, all the time away from you was simply torture. he needed to make it up to you, show you how lucky of a man he is.

diving back into your cunt, his fingers continued to thrust into you while his mouth latched onto your clit, gently sucking onto it until you came apart on his fingers, letting him patiently taste you up, the moans leaving your lips sounding nothing less than the songs sung by angels.

“oh, john…” you breathed heavily softly, your orgasm leaving your body feeling tingly, eyes looking down at price who was still on his knees, beginning to press soft kisses on your thighs now, moving down to kiss both your knees and calves, kissing you over and over, mumbling sweet praises to you — he adored and worshiped you as if you were his very goddess, which you were. he’d even get on the ground and kiss it to show how much you meant to him, how you are the holy light comforting the filthiness etched within him.

“you’re beautiful.” the smile adorning his lips made your heart skip a bit, watching him get up on his feet once more before climbing on top of you, gently easing you down onto the mattress. “i love you. fuck- i love you, sweetheart.” with a groan, he moved down to press some more kisses on your neck, making you feel the rough edges of his beard scratching your skin. “can never tell you enough of that, y'know? never.”

he nearly melted right there and then when he felt your fingers gently scratching his scalp, your breathing soothing his nerves. “my baby, i love you.” he just couldn’t stop repeating it, it almost hurt. he didn’t deserve you, didn’t deserve someone so perfect who was still willing to put up with a wrecked mess like him hidden beneath all that sternness.

“i love you too…” your voice came out quiet yet assured, brimming with nothing but pure love.

soft rustles of clothes could be heard as price got rid of his own a bit too eagerly, eyes fixed on you. “oh, fuck.” he grunted under his breath once his hand held the base of his cock, all girthy and already leaking almost pathetically. he gently tapped the tip of his cock on your puffy clit a few times, grinning at the little whine that escaped you before he finally aligned it against your tight hole, gently pushing it into your cunt. your warmth enveloped him, his hips stuttering just a bit once he was overcome with emotions, poorly hiding them.

“my sweet, sweet love.” slowly caging his strong arms around your head, he felt your legs wrap around his hips while he began to slowly thrust his girthy cock into you, fully pressed down on you. your hands dug into his back while his face was aligned with yours, giving him the perfect chance to press loving kisses on your forehead and nose.

his embrace felt like a prayer of its own, his thrusts not losing their momentum despite his body aching to go a bit faster. no, not today. it was all about you today, to give you all the gentle love he held deep within him. you could feel his bushy happy trail rubbing against your clit, making it a bit achy in a good way. he probably didn’t have time to trim it properly during deployment, and oh were you grateful.

“j-john, feels so good.” you moaned blissfully into his ear, pleasure coursing through every fiber of yours, your walls clenching around him with every kiss he gave to your face, drowning your moans once he pressed his lips to yours.

it wasn’t long until your orgasm came crashing down on you once again, washing over you pleasantly while you drenched his cock. he twitched inside you, grunting as his arms came down to wrap around you and pull you impossibly close, his head burying into your sweaty neck while he continued to fuck you until he felt his balls tighten, filling you up with his warm cum.

he wasn’t willing to get away from you after that, running you a warm bath and washing you while he kissed your tits, hands massaging your thighs with the foam of the soap, the sweet aroma of lavender lingering in the bathroom, both of you fully content.

#soft!price save me... save me soft!price #price x reader #john price x reader #john price #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic #ruru mail

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

Hey! I have a potentially odd request and I’m not sure if you write stuff like this anyway so if not please just disregard. I am in a strikingly similar situation Sirius with Regulus and for some reason this past week I’ve been feeling guilty as hell. Could you maybe do something where Remus and James are comforting Sirius like it’s okay, it’s not your fault, you had to leave, etc? Or maybe something with Remus James and Sirius comforting reader with the same idea but Sirius being especially emotional and like it’s okay, I get it, you can’t blame yourself etc? Thank you lovely <3 <3

Hi sweetheart! I wasn’t sure exactly which Siri+Reg situation you meant but my first thought was the one where Sirius left Reg alone in their parents’ home, so I hope that’s what you were intending. Thanks sm for requesting! It was a great excuse to listen to regina spektor’s two birds on repeat :’)

cw: implied past abuse, older sibling guilt (also I am a wee bit drunk editing this so if it’s bad let’s blame it on that)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“I know,” you croak, and you’re speaking quietly enough that Remus gathers you aren’t eager to be overheard, but you’ve made no move to go upstairs and have a truly private conversation. You lie on your back on the couch, one hand covering your eyes and the other holding your phone to your ear. “Yeah, I know how they are. No, it sucks, I just—”

You press your lips together as the voice on the other end of the phone increases in volume. When it pauses, you hum. “Yeah, I get that. I think it’s a good idea. Just keep to yourself, if you can. It’ll be okay. I’ll try and—no, I know.” You swallow thickly. Remus’ heart heavies.

He sneaks a look at your boyfriends, both pretending to be busy whilst they eavesdrop. Sirius, just on the other end of the couch, has ceased typing on his laptop and is scrolling aimlessly back and forth on the same page. Meanwhile, James is stirring a pot of water on the stove that’s barely simmering. They look about as tense as Remus feels, Sirius most of all. They all know who you’re talking to. They can gauge the subject.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice dips, quiet and abashed. “I want to, I just—wait, don’t—”

You let the phone drop onto the couch, releasing a sigh as you bring your other hand to your face. They hung up.

There are a few seconds of fraught silence before James pipes up from the kitchen, “Everything alright, angel?”

You hum in affirmation, but the sound is pitchy and broken.

Sirius forgoes pretense. He closes his laptop, setting it aside. “What did they want?”

You take in a deep, shuddering breath. It’s not enough; your voice cracks anyway. “For me to come home,” you say, the last word a sob.

James switches the stove off, nearly jogging into the living room to be at your side.

“I’m sorry, dove,” Remus says quietly. “I know it must be hard, but you did the right thing by leaving.”

“I don’t think so,” you choke out. James makes a pained sound as he sits by your feet, between you and Sirius, and rubs his big hands up and down your calves consolingly. Remus sneaks a glance at Sirius, and his boyfriend has his jaw clamped tight, watching you with heartache in his pale eyes.

“You did,” James says. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hands. “I—I can’t—” You nearly lunge for James, who looks all too relieved to take you into his arms. He maneuvers you so you’re in his lap, sitting sideways with your face pressed against his collar. His palm covers the back of your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hushes you, tone fraught with a compassion so intense it sounds like it hurts. “It’s okay. Just cry it out if you need to.”

You do. You cry until Remus is sure your head has to be pounding. You don’t try to breathe through it, don’t wipe your nose as it runs. Your tears come hot and fast and painfully quiet, like you learned how to hide them as soon as you learned how to cry. Sirius doesn’t tear his gaze from you as your shoulder’s shake and James’ shirt grows wet. When he swallows thickly, Remus reaches over from the armchair to take his hand.

Once your tears start to slow, Sirius says, voice uncharacteristically quiet, “The best thing you can do is give them the advice you wish someone had given you.” His free hand twitches in his lap, and Remus realizes he’s keeping still on purpose, not messing with his hair or crossing his arms or doing any of the things that would give away how upset he is. “You can’t go back.”

“I know,” you mumble into James’ shirt.

“Do you?” Remus asks gently. “I understand if you want to, right now, but you just…you have to do what’s best for yourself.”

A powerful sob shakes you, and James’ palm presses into your back with something akin to desperation. “I’m the big sister,” you say. “I’m supposed to be there for them.”

“You didn’t ask for that.” Sirius’ words are inlaid with a quiet ardency. “It’s not—you can’t blame yourself.”

You sniffle, pulling your face from James’ front to look at Sirius. There’s a rawness between you that hurts Remus to look at. “I know you know what it’s like,” you tell him, voice wavering on the edge of a whimper, “and I’m sorry. I just—” you take a ragged inhale “—didn’t think it would feel like this.”

James looks like he is just barely restraining himself from tucking your head back into his shoulder, but he holds still as Sirius pulls his hand from Remus’ to reach for you, pushing a damp piece of hair away from your eye.

“Baby, you don’t need to be sorry,” he promises. “I get it. It’s hard to feel okay about it at first, but you’ll…it gets easier.”

You nod, and even though it’s obvious to all of them that you’re only being a good sport, Sirius offers you a small smile.

“What made it easier?” you ask softly, swiping under your eyes. James coos and bushes your hands away gently, kissing your tears off for you.

Sirius looks between Remus and James, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Drinking, maybe.”

“Fuck off.” Remus sticks out a foot, pushing at Sirus’ thigh harshly. “Does she seem like she’s in the mood for jokes?”

But you laugh wetly, and they all grin for hearing it, James mushing a few quick kisses into the side of your head.

“Gonna turn our sweet girl into an alcoholic,” he says against your skin.

“Fine.” Sirius rolls his eyes extravagantly. “I don’t know, I guess you guys helped a bit too.”

Before Sirius can react, James has an arm around his neck, tugging him close. “Oh, you,” James says, and Sirius makes a horrified squawking sound as his boyfriend presses a firm kiss to his temple, then yours. “Such a romantic. We helped a bit, huh?”

Remus hums. “Ingrate.”

“The point,” Sirius says, wrestling free of James’ grip, “is that it does get better.” He looks at you, features softening. “It’s not that it’s ever easy. But give it time.”

“Got it.” You give him a small smile. Still wan, but more genuine than the last. “Thanks.”

“Do whatever you need to to feel better, sweetheart,” Remus tells you, leaning forward until you meet his eye. “Just stay with us, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

You lean into James’ side, the affection in your gaze all too heavy. “I could never.”

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whoxeology · 3 months

Text

⛧☾༺♰SFW Alphabet♰༻☽⛧

PAIRING: Luke Castellan x Reader

WARNINGS: Established Relationship. Possible spoilers for TLT, Kissing, Making Out, OOC Luke.

W.C: 2.6K

A/N: I have not read the books only knowledge I have of Luke is from the movies, TV show, and multiple fics I have read. With that being said this is purely for fun and these are just my headcannons. You are more than welcome to disagree and leave feedback.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Luke is extremely affectionate. His love language is definitely touch (he's very much touch-starved). He's not afraid of PDA but he likes to be respectful of those around you. When you are in public he'll be affectionate in subtle ways hands on your waist as he walks behind you, a kiss on your forehead when he leaves the dining table, hands caressing your sides as he fixes your fighting stance. He loves to be in your presence. Whether swimming in the lake with you, sitting beside you when you eat, or laying on your bed with you in your warm embrace.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Luke as a best friend would start off slow. You'd be in Hermes cabin because you weren't claimed yet and of course, Luke would show you around and make you feel more welcome. Slowly as the days went on and you weren't claimed you grew closer to Luke. Feeling safer knowing that he would have your back in anything. Eventually, you were claimed and forced to move cabins. Luke thought that would be the end of it another one had gone and moved on. Luke obviously didn't know you. You came back. Even with your new friends in your cabin you still preferred Luke's company.

Luke as a best friend would be loyal to you. Seeing as you felt the same as he did on many things. You two were similar in so many ways. He'd have your back and defend you even when you weren't there. He'd hate every guy you dated even before he had feelings for you because you were too good. Too good for their greedy, filthy, stained hands, too good for even him. He'd be snarky showing a sassy side to you when he was more comfortable.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

When you are alone he can not keep his hands to himself. His hands always find a way under your shirt just resting on your waist, hands messaging your calves, hands running through your hair as you lay your head in his lap. Some of the times none of this is sexual he just loves to feel the warmth of your skin. He loves to feel the smoothness of your skin against his rough calloused palms, to see each strand of hair as he twirls your pretty hair in his hands, to feel your heartbeat thump in his ear as he lays against your chest.

Most of the time you cuddle with Luke you'd end up as the little spoon but once in a while when Luke was overwhelmed with life and was trapped in his head he would lay on your chest legs tangled with yours as he listened to your steady heartbeat

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

First things first Luke is a terrible cook. Not only did he run away at a young age but he has been in camp since he was 14 so there was no need for him to learn how to cook. Needless to say Luke is very smart and strategic so if he really wanted to he could definitely learn to cook.

Luke has always thought of settling down. He knew it was something he really wanted to do. Especially with you. He would have doubts. Not about being with you but you being with him. He thinks you deserve better than anything he could ever give you. He would love to have kids and prove that he could be a better father to them than his father was to him. He would always be there for them and support their goals and dreams, He would never leave them.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If you know Luke's story you know how it ends....... that being said Luke wouldn't want to break up with you. He'd want you to join him and be happy with him. However, seeing as you have morals you wouldn't join him. He would beg and plead for you to join him saying he loves you and needs you by his side.

Say he didn't join Kronos. Luke would try to fix whatever was wrong in your relationship. He would try so hard because he loves you. If he couldn't fix things then he'd let you down the easiest way to do it. He would assure you that even though you aren't not together anymore he would still care for you.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Luke is fully committed to you. His flesh, bones, and spirit belong to you and you only. He would think so much about popping the question. You guys were young and had a longggg life ahead of you. He'd always be scared that the day he did pop the question you would say no.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Luke is strong and he is well aware of it. He's no stranger to yanking your back towards him or grabbing your jaw firmly when he pulls you in for a kiss. In moments of heat and passion, he's what you want him to be. You want rough you got it just remember the safe word if anything. You want sweet he'll hold you like you would break and cradle you from the world.

Emotionally Luke is strong he has to be. He had to be growing up the way he did. He's no stranger to hiding his emotions. He wanted to be strong for you but you can always see right through him and tell when something is wrong. There's moments when his walls break and he crys to you about it all and you just hold him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Luke is TOUCH STARVED. Any change he gets to hold you he will take it. Luke will hug you at least 20 times a day. When Luke hugs you it's engulfing. Luke is taller than you so when he hugs you from behind he loves to rest his chin on your head either that or sneak kisses into your neck.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Luke had liked Thalia and look how that ended..... Pine cones fate. When Luke realizes how much you really mean to him it scares him a bit. He's never loved anyone as much as he loved you and he was scared that you didn't feel the same for you or that he'd scarily lose you. So when you told him that you loved him first his eyes started to water. After a few seconds, he immediately said it back to you.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Luke says he doesn't get jealous. This is partially true. You are attractive meaning people are going to be flirting with you which Luke doesn't mind. It's when people forget that you are with him and get bold is when he's practically fuming cartoon-style. He'll approach you and make it well known to the other that he is yours and you are his. He'll slip up behind you hands on your waist and place a kiss on your neck then he'll take his place beside you arm securely wrapped around your waist as he joins the conversation with ease.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like?)

Luke has two types of kisses. One where you are practically made of glass and he is scared you might break. One hand on the side of your head and the other one on your waist as he kisses you as if you were his lifeline. Gentle kisses as he pours his love into you. The other version is hungry and consuming. One hand resting on your neck and the other wrapped around your waist to pull you closer than you already are. A harsh mixture of teeth and tongue as he shows you how much he needs you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Seeing as most campers that join camp are around 12 years old Luke is pretty good around younger kids. He's always had patience and skill with them. Taking the time needed to show the kids a kind and welcoming hand.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Luke is always gone when you wake up. He snuck off in the night to avoid being caught. You'd get ready and meet him a breakfast where he is already sitting beside a spot he saved for you. His face would light up as he saw you complimenting you every morning even if had seen you hours ago. The conversation mainly consisted of how you slept and the plans for the day along with the occasional tease and snarky comment from Luke and the blushy eye-rolling from you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Since camp had a curfew you and Luke would sneak around most nights to be with each other. Most nights you and Luke would meet by the lake. Blanket hidden under some lifting tree roots and pulled out and placed on the sand whenever you and Luke were there. You'd talk about your days and gaze at the stares. Jokes and stories told about your past, your hopes, and your dreams. Some nights you'd fall asleep in each other's arms on the sand under the stars and the moon no one else in the world but the two of you. Luke would be the first to wake (Mostly because of his nightmare) he'd admire the way you slept and chuckle at the slight drool pooling out of your mouth onto his bare chest. He'd gently shake you awake and help you back to your cabin complaining about how you'd need to rethink the blanket on the sand idea because he has sand in places he did not want to have sand in

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Luke was open to you from day 1. You and him were so much alike that he felt compelled to confide in you. He would slowly tell you things about his past. The tension between him and his father. His failed quest that gave him his scar. His mother. He ached when he spoke about his past but your touch soothed his pain. Dulled it down enough to be shoved away.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Luke had way more patience than you that would be for sure. Dealing with younger kids all day would definitely require you too. Once in a while when Luke was upset he would always seek you out. Your very presence made him feel at ease. During the very very few chances Luke comes to you upset and snaps on you he immediately apologizes.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Luke is your wiki page. He remembers every single thing about you from your favorite candy to your childhood house. He remembers your favorite constellation, your childhood pet name, hell he even remembers your favorite pair of earrings that you lost on a 4th grade field trip. At this point, Luke knows more about you than you do yourself.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Luke's favorite moment in your relationship was the moment you finally got together. It wasn't perfect but it was yours. Luke had been talking to a girl from Aphrodite's cabin and she was flirting with him and Luke was all into it. You had gotten pissed off and ignored him the whole day. You had no reason to be upset. Luke had found you at the lake after curfew and confronted you about being weird and off and things escalated turning the whole thing into an angry love confession.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Luke and protectiveness are practically the same thing. He would do anything to ensure not a single hair on your pretty little head was harmed. He would protect you not only physically but emotionally. He hated to see you hurt in any way. Luke would rather protect you than have you protect him. In moments during camp activities when someone was swinging at him you'd step in and he'd be upset that you could have gotten hurt but also his heart swells with pride that you'd put yourself in danger for him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Luke tries every day. He is such a lover boy. Every day he will give you small gifts whether it's something he made or something he found. You have a collection of shiny rocks and pretty shells that Luke has gifted you through the years you've known him.

On dates and anniversaries, Luke goes all out. He has campers sneak your favorite things into camp candy, snacks, and flowers. He has the whole day planned out. From breakfast in bed to a fancy lunch in the forest, to a romantic dinner on the beach. All of your favorite things in your favorite places.

Luke's gifts were always given from the heart. You weren't materialistic Luke knew that so he got you gifts that held meaning. A bracelet made of string in your favorite color. Each bead on it marks a significant moment in your life since you got to camp. A seashell that he painted with a picture of your favorite constellation on the inside of it. Small yet meaningful and showing of effort put into his gifts.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Not much of a habit but Luke has such a strong hate for the gods specifically his father that makes him the worst version of himself (Kronos).

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Luke knows he's attractive with your help of course. After he got his scar his confidence plummeted. After lots of words of encouragement and affection, he slowly gained his confidence back. His baby loves how he looks and that's all that matters.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Luke would have never been one to say he felt like he needed someone to feel complete. However, since you came along he's felt as if you are his means to life themself. You are a deity he worships. He is completely devoted to you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Luke is surprisingly a really good singer. Sometimes at nights when you can't sleep, he'll take you to the lake and sing to you as you lay your head down on his chest.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Dishonesty. As someone who is lying to literally everyone, he knows a liar when he sees one. He's a hypocrite really he lies but hates when others do it. Especially to his face.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

Luke doesn't sleep much when he is alone. His nightmares keep him up. However, when he's with you he tends to sleep a little longer than normal. You help him sleep.

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bratphilia · 6 months

Text

exposure (w. afton x reader)

note: as promised, it's here. also fun fact i have ocd and exposure therapy is one way used in my treatment. so i turned it into porn. enjoy! i will most definitely write a second chapter

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: corrupt therapist!william, innocent virgin!reader, manipulation, oral sex (f receiving)

your thoughts are interrupted as you hear a voice call your name. "hi," your therapist says, smiling kindly at you.

"hi steve." you return the smile and follow him to his office.

he opens the door for you and closes it behind him. you take a seat on the couch while he situates himself in the chair across from you. "so tell me, how are you doing? how are the meds working out?"

"well, um," you start apprehensively. "that's kinda why i'm here to see you so soon. it's been a month and i don't think they're working."

steve gives you a faux look of concern, as if to say "oh no" and clicks his tongue. of course the meds aren't working. he handed you a low dosage of tylenol, a pain medicine, in an orange bottle without a label. any smart person would've found that suspicious — even more suspicious considering the fact that he's a therapist, not a psychiatrist.

there's nothing wrong with you, either. you're just an innocent — rather dumb, in his opinion — girl with repressed sexual thoughts. thoughts he's been working his way up to helping you through them.

"and the ache in your stomach is still there?" steve asks, just to make sure.

you mumble an "mhm" embarrassed to look at him. he bites back a grin. "well, i have an idea."

you perk up at that. "ever heard of exposure therapy?" you shake your head 'no.' "it's a kind of therapeutic exercise that stresses the importance of facing the things that are giving you anxiety."

you stare at him blankly. of course you don't understand what he's saying. you're his dumb little girl, after all.

"tell me, what are the symptoms you're having?" he asks. he wants you to say it — say that the root of your problems stem from overwhelming horniness, just as you've danced around saying in every session you've had with him.

you look down at your shoes. "well, uhm, there's this... tingle in my stomach. and the thoughts i'm having are... concerning to me. it's like i'm obsessed with..."

you trail off and he raises an eyebrow. "...i guess what i'm trying to say is... i'm having really dirty thoughts. sometimes... they're about you.. or some men i see staring at me."

steve tries his hardest to keep up the facade of a concerned therapist, but he can't deny how your words are going straight to his dick. "i see."

"can you help me, steve?" you look at him with the most innocent, doe eyes he's ever seen.

he cocks his head and smiles at you. "of course i can." he refrains from calling you 'sweet girl' — too unprofessional.

steve takes his spot on the couch next to you. he helps you situate your self so that you're leaning back. "can you spread your legs for me? you might want to take off your shoes for the sake of your own comfort."

your brows furrow and you do what he says hesitantly. you're wearing a cute, pastel blue sundress. when you bring your knees to your chest, spread just like he asked, he reaches to fold your dress over and reveals your white cotton panties. he could come in his pants from the sight alone.

you make a resistant noise when he reaches for your panties. "no one's ever touched me there..."

he already knows that. he can tell. but still, something about being the first one to break open that sweet cunt of yours fills him with even more desire. "i'll be gentle, okay?" he promises.

you nod your head and allow him to slide your panties down your legs, leaving them stretched near the bottom of your calves purposefully. it provides as a small restraint to you in case you squirm away from his touch. just as he expected, your pussy is red, swollen, and shiny with your slick. poor thing, he thinks.

steve brings a hand to run up and down your cunt, wanting to collect the slick gathered there. you moan and he feels you shiver. "th-that feels funny..."

"yeah?" he says before thumbing your clit. you let out a high pitched whine. his eyes move towards your face, fascinated with the way your eyes are fluttering.

"does that feel good?" he inquires, earning a "mhm" from you.

he picks up the tempo, rubbing the sensitive nub in circles with the rough pad of his thumb. you try to buck against his hand he brings his free arm to sling over your waist, halting your movements. "this won't work if you're moving like that. just let it happen, okay?"

"okay..." you murmur. it's easier said than done.

he stops rubbing at you. he has an even better idea. he leans down on his knees and kisses the spot his finger was just on. you let out a shocked "ah!" much to his dismay.

"gonna have to keep quiet or i'll stop," he says sternly. you promptly bring a hand to cover your mouth.

steve licks long, slow stripes up your cunt, flattening his tongue to cover as much as he can, gaging your reaction. your legs squirm but you can't move them much from the restraint the placement of your panties provide. he takes your bud into his mouth and suck at your clit, humming a little and shaking his head. you squeal against your palm and he pulls away, slapping your cunt.

"i told you to fucking stay quiet! you'll get us both in trouble," he scolds. it's a side of him you've never seen before. usually he's just so sweet to you. however, despite that, his tone sends a tingle in your tummy. you nod in obedience and allow him to continue.

he sticks his tongue inside you and it takes everything within you not to scream. he knows what he's doing too. the best part for him is watching you struggle. you wriggle around, desperately grasping at the firm fabric of the couch. he pulls his tongue out and kisses your clit once more.

"s-steve, i feel.. weird," you tell him, moving your hand for a moment.

"'s okay, just let it go. you'll feel better," he promises gently. his mouth encloses around your clit again and he slurps, flicking it rapidly with his tongue.

"ah, ah." you throw your head back and do what he says: release.

"mmm," he hums, lapping up what you give him.

"that was nice," you say once you catch your breath. "i really liked that. what kind of therapy is that called again?'

"exposure therapy," he lies. "how are the thoughts? are they still there?'

"no," you say in astonishment as you notice. "it's like my mind is all foggy right now? will it stay like that?"

"temporarily, we'll have to explore this some more at your next appointment. i'll make sure to bring something you can take home with you whenever those thoughts are disturbing you, alright?"

"alright."

next appointment. your heart soars. and the thoughts are back once more.

#fnaf #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut

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mysaintkitten · 4 months

Text

Trigger-happy | Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

prompt: idek how to summarize this other than gunplay with tommy loool (18+ MDNI !!!)

WARNINGS: gunplay (real sick shit i’m not playing), degradation, unprotected sex (p in v), orgasm denial (eeeehhh)

*not proofread*

the first thing you notice is the crisp and cold dead grass beneath your knees and calves, then the cool breeze blowing against your bare skin. as you crack your eyes open, you nervously scan your surroundings. it doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re bound in a very large vacant field.

the dress you had been wearing was cut messily, the uneven fabric barely covered the tops of your thighs, and your stockings had been removed too. you couldn’t check, but just judging by how you felt, you assumed you weren’t wearing any underwear either. with your arms and ankles tied, you couldn’t do much to try and cover yourself let alone warm yourself up.

from behind you, you hear footsteps, followed by the sound of a match being lit.

“i assume you’re coherent now.” you hear a familiar voice mutter behind you. that gravely, deep, sexy voice that you know all too well.

as expected, tommy shelby comes up from behind you and steps in front of you, towering over you as you look up at him with confusion. you’d heard of tommy through the grapevine, and you’d occasionally spot him out and about. he was so enticing. like a forbidden fruit, so delicious, so dangerous, you wanted it all.

but being here now and having no choice to submit to him was having your mind and body stirring. you’re partially terrified, and just the slightest bit turned on.

“why am i here?” you finally gather up the courage to speak. tommy leaves you with an uncomfortable silence as he places his cigarette between his lips while he retrieves something from within his pockets. seconds later, he flashes his gun at you.

your body tenses at the bleak shift in energy. was tommy shelby, the man you occasionally fantasized about, moments way from killing you?

“you know …” tommy briefly takes the cigarette out of his mouth while he rummages through his other pockets for bullets. right in front of you, he loads them in one by one. “i’ve heard quite some tales about you, how could a little thing like yourself cause such problems?”

what the fuck is he talking about? for the most part, you just kept to yourself. yes, you may have been involved in some dirty work here and there but come on, who isn’t?

“i don’t know what you mean tom-“ you attempt to start before tommy cuts you off.

“aht- sweetheart, you don’t get the privilege of saying my name. it’s sir.”

“… i don’t know what you mean, sir.” you correct, your tone becoming shaky as the weight of the situation has began to settle in. again, tommy doesn’t respond, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts. tommy leeches off your nervous energy, it feeds into his superiority complex.

without saying a word, tommy aims the gun directly at your forehead, the icy metal barrel caused your heart to race faster.

“please.” you plead breathlessly, your entire life is playing out in front of your eyes, every single fuck up is looping inside your head.

by some force, an unfamiliar wave of confidence makes it way through you. maybe it’s the adrenaline mixed with some delusion, either way your actions begin to change.

“please.” you repeat, rising up to your knees as best you can with your ankles still bound. tommy keeps the gun in the same place and watches you attentively as you move around in front of him. the barrel of the gun now grazing your nose and lips.

“i’m sure we could …” you hum as you plant a kiss onto the barrel, testing the waters. “work something out, sir.”

through a chuckle, tommy asks “is this your plan? whore yourself out to try and save your life?”

“mmm …” you pretend to think for a moment, your kisses against the gun becoming more deliberate and sloppy. “i’ve always thought you were so handsome, sir. so big and bad.” you bat your lashes at him while teasingly licking the underside of the barrel.

quickly, tommy snags the gun away and shoots off into the field before quickly bringing the gun back down to where he had kept it before.

you can’t help but giggle, this entire situation is so tense— yet suddenly you cannot take it seriously for the life of you.

“wow …” you grin, kitten licking the barrel. “gives you a rush, huh?” you ask tommy. his jaw is clenched and he’s shifting his weight around in a way you’ve never seen him do before. tommy was normally so calculated, have you really thrown him off that much?

“do it.” you whisper, slowly taking the tip of the barrel into your mouth. his jaw goes slack, undoubtedly he’s imagining your lips around his member, licking and teasing him like you’re doing to his gun.

as you slowly blink, your lids becoming heavier as your body starts to get worked up, you take more of the barrel into your mouth. jesus, if any outsiders saw you mimicking fellatio on tommy shelby’s gun, along with tommy allowing you to do it, they’d likely be convinced that hell had frozen over.

tommy swallows, huffing loudly as he finds the right words to say.

“you’re disgusting.” tommy spat. your ego was bruised temporarily, until your eyes drifted down to his bulge, which ultimately revealed tommy’s true opinions on the matter.

“d’you get off on being disgusted, sir? because …” you signal to his cock as best you can without your arms being available, tommy scoffs as if him having an erection during a moment like this meant absolutely nothing.

“come on, just blow off some steam.” you purr as you muzzle the side of your head against the gun, “you’ve got a dirty, vulnerable girl right here in front of you. i couldn’t stop you even if i tried.”

finally, something snaps within tommy. with his free hand, he nudges your shoulder and pushes you down. you fall against the hard ground, and before you even have time to process that tommy is proceeding to flip you over onto your stomach.

then, you feel tommy’s big rough hand grab onto your hip. with ease, he lifts your hips up and forces you into a face-down-ass-up position. you turn your head to the side and whimper at the change, you had much less confidence in a state like this.

“i could blow your fuckin’ brains out …” tommy grumbles as he roughly whips up the bottom half of your very short dress, your back involuntarily arches at the brisk wind hitting your most private, and now sensitive areas. you can tell you’re wet, and tommy can too, cause he can see the wetness glistening off of you. “and all you’re thinking about is getting your holes filled?”

as you mewl back to him, you gasp when you feel the cold barrel make contact with your desperate core. he toys with your slick, watching how quickly your sticky arousal eagerly coats whatever it touches. he pushes the tip of the barrel inside, almost fucking you with his gun.

and as if things couldn’t get worse, his skilled thumb finds its way to your clit. he rubs it and groans when he sees you get wetter around his gun, a bit more of the barrel accidentally sliding inside of you due to your increase in arousal. this is sickening, tommy is getting you off with the weapon he uses to off whoever wrongs him.

tommy takes the gun and his thumb away from you, before you can protest you hear fabric rustling and the sound of a zipper being ripped down. you hold your breath with anticipation, until you feel tommy’s warm tip press against your opening.

“mmh-“ you moan, attempting to rock your hips back against him. you really didn’t need to though, because seconds later tommy shoved his full length inside of you. the sudden stretch and fullness made your mouth hang open with pleasure and pain.

tommy pulls his hips back before slamming them back in, immediately fucking you with a relentless pace. you felt like a cheap whore beneath him, like all he was thinking about was getting himself off. hell, he probably was thinking that, and that only made it hotter.

“such a fuckin’ whore… ‘n still so … shit … so tight.” tommy groans, tipping his head back while mumbling strings of curses under his breath.

“uh-huh … mmh—“ you gasp as tommy’s angles change, causing him to slam into that special spot inside you. “right there, right there—“ you ramble as your whole body pulses with pleasure. again, tommy’s not doing it to make you feel good, he just happened to tweak his angle. and if it just so happens to make you come on his cock, that’s just life he thinks to himself as he feels your arousal spill down onto his balls.

as your mind reels from tommy’s harsh pounding, you feel the barrel being pressed against the side of your head.

“maybe it would be better if i shot you like this.” he pants, laughing breathily to himself. “we could keep that pretty face of yours intact.”

your fate sat in his hands. he could kill you right then and there, you’d have zero say in it. it’s petrifying, and incredibly erotic.

you huff, “you think i’m pretty?”

tommy presses the gun against your head harder, “that’s the part you’re focused on? jesus … stupid fucking whore.”

your cunt clenches around him from his degradation, this wasn’t going to last long. the pace tommy has stuck with was not meant for longterm endurance, that’s why he chose it.

tommy let’s out a low purr at the sensation, “you really are disgusting … gripping my cock like that …” the last bit of his sentence had the slightest bit of praise hidden within it, you absolute ate up such a drastic bittersweet mixture.

his thrusts start to get janky, and his breathing is loud and laboured. much too soon for your liking, tommy pulls out and feverishly pumps himself, huffing harshly as he spills his load onto your ass and back.

you release a little whine. like, obviously the man who was sent to kill you isn’t going to sit there and make you come, but it was definitely nice while it lasted.

you’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel tommy silently untying you. before long, your limbs are fully free.

tommy pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a generous inhale before speaking.

“if anyone asks, just say you broke out of your restraints before i got here.”

you raise your brow, challenging tommy in a way. “and what if i don’t? what if i say what actually happened?”

tommy laughs, slipping his gun back into his pocket.

“then i’ll find you and actually put a bullet between your eyes. how’s that sound, sweetheart?”

��

this was one of my before-bed imagine scenarios. sigh. i’m sorry god.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #hope y’all like this #:)

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roseykat · 4 months

Text

TITLE: Brown Eyes Don’t Pry

PAIRING: Changbin x f!reader

SUMMARY: Changbin comes home from the gym, only to find you getting yourself off with your door wide open - a delicious opportunity for him not to pass up. To watch the way you make yourself cum when you think nobody else is around.

TAGS: perv!Changbin, female masturbation, orgasms, voyeurism, reader is watching porn, hints of humiliation, (this is slightly short but it’s been on my mind).

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

MASTERLIST

Changbin’s body is killing him.

Muscles aching, quads sore, calves sore. The only saving grace to relieve some of it was to ensure he was properly stretching and had a thorough cooldown. He followed that up with a hot shower at the gym and getting into some fresh clean clothes before jumping in his car and heading back home.

The drive would’ve been a lot more miserable had he not taken the necessary steps to feel comfortable after a tough session. However, Changbin is always in for the nitty gritty training that he puts himself through. Despite how nagging or painful it can be prior and post, the progress will always keep him going.

In light of that, he always needs to take care of his body in between sessions too. For that reason, when Changbin arrives home and heads inside, he collapses onto the couch. Sleep threatens to pull him under if he doesn’t get back up to make himself some breakfast. That's equally important too, to which his grumbling stomach agrees.

At that minute, Changbin hoists his tired body off of the couch, about to head into the kitchen to cook up something nutritious when something catches the attention of his ears. From downstairs, he couldn’t quite pinpoint if it was a TV playing or voices. Felix was at work, he knew that much since he saw him leave this morning. Plus, his car isn’t parked in the driveway.

You on the other hand were supposed to be out with friends until lunch, and as Changbin peers down at the screen of his phone, it was clearly nowhere near lunch. He’s only about to have some breakfast. However, the ongoing noises from upstairs makes him curious to see what’s going on.

There’s no way an intruder broke in. Changbin couldn’t hear any clamour of items or hurried, shuffling footsteps across the floor. It only sounded like a voice.

That’s when it becomes a bit more distinct as he begins his ascent upstairs while his fine-tuned ears recognises the distress behind the person’s voice. How anguished they sounded. But then he sees it as he makes it up to the top of the stairs, through the crack of the door to your room.

“Ah, y-yes, fuck. God, wanna cum so bad...”

Changbin's entire body freezes on the spot. Suddenly, his legs can’t move. They don’t want to move. Not from the sheer shock of seeing you half-naked from the back, grinding your pussy over the rounded corner of the desk in your room keeps him from moving. Only his jaw manages to unhinge itself a bit as he watches you rub yourself until you feel good.

You must’ve been like that for quite some time as Changbin noticed the creamy glaze in between your folds, some of which had made an appearance on your desk. It helped glide you over the surface of the desk more easily, so much so that you needed to grab the edge with one hand while trying to hold your phone in the other.

If Changbin hadn't seen what you were holding, he still would’ve guessed correctly that you were watching porn. From the erotic sounds alone, it was relatively easy to depict.

He swallowed a thick lump in his throat that had been growing as fast as the tent in his pants. He doesn't want to move, remaining in place as he listens to your tortured and forced whimpers. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever think of being in a situation like this.

Whilst you both are friends - roommates at the very most, he has never seen you in this type of light. So vulnerable. So fuckable, even.

Watching you lose your mind over trying to rub your pussy the right way, over and over again. The state of desperation you're in causes his cock to start filling out. He takes in the fact that your legs start to shake as you draw near to a long-awaited orgasm.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, fuck, please!” You call out to nobody, almost making Changbin chuckle.

As the pace of your hips picks up, so does your breathing. The stimulating feeling is all too good as it bursts vibrantly at the seams for release to trickle throughout all the best parts of your body. The porn playing before your eyes of a woman getting railed until she starts shaking, makes you wish that you had a dildo or something to fuck yourself with.

Something - anything that would allow you to clench and cream around until you start seeing stars.

Sick of your hands having to do the job, you had to resort to other methods. There are no detachable shower heads in the apartment, nothing malleable yet sturdy enough to insert - either they were too big or too small, or, too dangerous.

When you were trying to figure out what to use, the thought of Changbin’s massage gun crossed your mind. But, you’re not sure if you would go that far especially knowing that he always keeps that thing near him whenever his muscles start playing up. Not to mention, he probably wouldn’t appreciate you using it as a sex toy.

However, none of it mattered at the moment. Not when you’re gasping for air, moaning as if there isn’t another soul in the house. Not to your knowledge at least as Changbin watches your muscles writhe when you push yourself over the edge. The pleasure buildup makes it so intense that you can barely continue to grind on the desk.

“Y-Yes! Mm, c-cumming,” you throw your head back, phone clamouring out of your hand as you go to grip the other side of the desk now to keep the momentum up.

You want to milk every last bit of your orgasm until the very last drop of pleasure leaves your body. As gasps heave out of your mouth, all you are left with are the remnants of a strong orgasm and the tremoring aftershocks that come with it.

As you slowly bring yourself down, you barely hear the creak of the door over the thumping of your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The uncanny presence of another was too hard not to miss, causing you to zap right around to find Changbin staring right back at you.

He stands underneath the doorframe with a blank expression.

There are no words that come to mind. Each mental faculty you possess scrambles to search for some decent explanation to justify what you’ve done - and in front of him no less.

“I think you ought to keep the door closed next time you want to get yourself off,” says Changbin cooly. “And…maybe wear some headphones if you’re going to watch porn too.”

“I-I didn’t - I wasn’t-”

Changbin fake pouts, throwing on a synthetic look of sympathy as he steps over the threshold of your room, “really? You’re going to lie after I just finished watching you make yourself cum all over your desk?”

Your eyes widen, an icy feeling washing over you before you notice the bulge in his pants, “you saw…”

“Saw, heard, witnessed - you name it Y/N,” Changbin lists. “Plus it wasn’t that hard when you had the door nearly half open. I suppose you were hoping one of us was just going to slide right in behind you, huh? Maybe waiting for Felix to come home early, see you bent over and wet just for him to fuck you.”

“That’s not - that’s not what it looks like,” you try to explain. “I was just…I needed to…I had nobody to…”

“To fuck you,” Changbin finishes off your sentence perfectly.

Exactly that. The whole point of getting yourself off was because you aren't getting fucked. What can you do when you're horny and have nobody to dick you down when you need it? Who's going to finger fuck you so that you don't have to do it yourself? Changbin doesn't even need to see through you to find that out after watching you.

He can see your insides angrily shredding yourself up with embarrassment. The fact that he just caught you red handed, drawing out a furious blush over your cheeks. Not only was it the humiliation that evoked such a reaction, but it was also Changbin’s words.

Some far away part in the back of your brain actually hoped that someone would come up behind you and ‘slide right in.’ To start fucking you unprovoked. You were clearly ready for it and desperate enough, but the main thing is, you wanted it too. To you, it almost sounded like Changbin could have.

“All you had to do was open your mouth,” he says and reaches down to gently grab your jaw to turn your head from side to side. “Then again, I’m sure it has its other uses.”

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #changbin smut

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devilmademewriteit · 11 months

Note

Drabble request for dbf!joel getting blown under the table or something while he's having a convo with reader's dad?!?! IDK I just love your dbf!joel!!

You Can Be the Boss

pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!afab!reader

warnings: rough oral (m receiving); petnames (angel, baby, sweetheart); age gap; choking; hair pulling; (yall this is pure pure daddy issues FILTH, I warned you. I warned you hard).

Hi y’all ty for sending me all ur requests. ummm you guys are insane ! and so am I ! maybe more because I’m actually the one writing these ! this one is so dirty ! don’t say I didn’t warn you !

more to come hehehe. I don’t tag ppl for my smaller drabbles / fics so turn on notifs or whatevs ;)

-em<3

—

“As close as I’ll get to the darkness, he tells me to, ‘Shut up, I got this.’”

- You Can Be the Boss

—

It was still a secret, after all.

Sneaking into his apartment, late nights in alleys, abandoned cars lining the streets of the QZ… you’d managed to keep your joint intoxication with one another under wraps.

Today… today was risky. You usually waited until the wee hours of the morning to even walk by his place, let alone enter, but you’d needed to drop off a sweater that Tess had leant you the previous week, intending to leave it folded up on the doormat before bolting down the hall. Your footsteps were nervous and heavy, which led to the door swinging wide open on its hinges, a gruff “where you runnin’ off to, Angel?” and a set of rough hands pulling you through the doorway.

Then you were spread open against the tattered table cloth of his (busy) kitchen table, underwear shoved to the side, watching a hunched over Joel Fucking Miller spit on his hand and run it up down his heavy, hard length.

“Shouldn’t come here during the day,” as he’d lined himself up, “Can’t fuckin’ help myself.”

That’s when you heard the definite sound of a key twisting inside a lock. Joel’s head shot up — your eyes barely had time to widen before he was shoving you under the table, panties still twisted around your ankles.

A quick zip, then footsteps.

“Oh, sorry man—”

Oh, fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“—Tess said you wouldn’t be home.”

It’s your father.

You thank God for your his poor observation skills (and the tablecloth) as Joel responds, “ah, no worries,” frustratingly non-chalant as ever.

“While you’re here though,” and your heart sinks, identifying your dad’s intention to stay, “Was wondering if we could go over the plans for our new routes. FEDRA assholes blocked off another south-east one today.”

Your blood turns to ice inside your veins as both men pull out their chairs, settling into a purely-business conversation. Joel barely hesitates, cool as ice.

Not fair that he gets to be so calm while you’re so… not.

Not fair.

If only there was a way to even out the playing field.

Crunched into yourself, you scoot closer to Joel’s calves, clinging onto his denim and doing your best to make as little noise as possible. When it’s clear, however, that your father’s far too invested in the practicalities of the conversation to suspect or inquire into or even notice anything else, your eyes wander towards the slowly softening bulge, still visible underneath Joel’s belt.

And you get an idea.

The man always tortured you, and you were well aware that what made your arrangement especially enticing — for the both of you — was the taboo-ness, the wrongness of it all.

So your pussy drips just thinking about it.

Slowly, delicately, you slide your hands up Joel’s thighs, feeling his every muscle respond, tensing, turning to stone, or jolting with electricity beneath your playful touches.

It’s hard, quietly pulling down his fly. Still, metal tooth by metal tooth, you eventually succeed, unable to hold back a smile of vindication when his cock springs up, swelling and hardening between your fingertips. Joel covers his choke with a cough.

Just as you duck down to lick a fat stripe up his cock’s dark underside, noticing how the lungs above you constrict — freezing — the conversation changes.

“You been seeing a lot of my daughter?”

Joel takes an uncharacteristically long time to grunt out a “here n’ there.”

You hold in a laugh, both at your dad’s timely question and the reaction it causes. Placing a hand at the base of him, you consider this the perfect moment to start teasing his tip with patient, innocent little kitten-licks.

“Been acting weird,” your old man continues, unphased and unassuming, “Worried she’s been gettin’ herself into trouble.”

Trouble? You’re looking at him.

Your dad’s whole “fatherly concern” (not like he’d ever shown any before) angle makes you bold. You want to make it harder for Joel to deny your father’s suspicion.

You want to make him lie through his teeth.

You part your lips, wrapping them adoringly around the entire head of his cock before gliding down, using your hand to assist you as you please every inch of him.

While he mostly manages to keep it together, his legs don’t, gently parting with desire to allow you better access.

“She-she’s a good girl, man,” Joel manages, and while his delivery borders a groan, he stays surprisingly level (your body doesn’t forget to note his praise, either, aching cunt growing wetter and wetter at his every word). “‘Bit juvenile sometimes, and reckless—” he pauses, and it’s very clear he’s not speaking to your father, “—but good—” you work every inch of him with your hands, throat, and mouth, savouring the feel of his ridges and veins, the taste of his salt on your tastebuds, “—so good.”

You freeze, scanning the room for tension as both you and Joel try to figure out if his desire-stricken tone’s given you away.

It hasn’t.

Of course it hasn’t.

Your dad continues on as if everything were normal, as if Joel’s tip wasn’t kissing the back of your throat. “Just not sure if I’m raising her right—or… or if I was much of a father at all.”

Yeah, probably not. You know, given that I’m under the table sucking your best friend’s dick.

You watch, head still slowly bobbing up and down his length, a hand carving a careful path down his leg. Joel’s fingertips breach your shoulder, his palm slowly graduates to cupping the back of your head.

And he shoves you forward, forcing every punishing inch of himself down your little, gasping throat.

“Just needs a little discipline,” your torturer responds, raising his gravelly voice to mask the definite sound of choking.

“A heavy hand.”

You huff against his abdomen. Just like that, Joel’s taken the reins of your little operation.

Like he always did. Like he always does.

“You’re probably right,” your father responds, sighing with concession. Tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes while your lungs burn for oxygen, mouth stuffed and nose pressed into Joel’s skin. He chuckles, slapping the table. “Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile, huh?”

“That’s right,” Joel responds, a soft coo, tightening his grasp in your hair and somehow forcing more of himself between your lips.

Making his point.

You hold back a whimper, nails hopelessly clawing at his jeans.

Your dad raps his knuckles against the wood, pushing his chair back to leave. Unfortunately for you, Joel doesn’t move, holding you there like a prisoner — suffocating you.

He clears his throat. “I’d walk you out, but, you know—” your eyelids grow heavy, little stars beginning to dance in your vision “—been goin’ hard recently. Wearin’ myself out.”

A huff of understanding and concurrence from the other side of the room.

Eventually, after what seems like an eternity, hinges squeak, goodbyes are uttered, and your father’s left you alone with his buddy again.

Joel’s chair scrapes back — he pulls you along with him, attached to him, out from underneath the table.

Finally, finally, he releases his grasp.

You jump off of him, strings of saliva trailing from your lips, gasping for air as if you were seconds from drowning.

You aim to collapse against his knees, but he quickly grabs you by the throat, presses his big thumb under your chin, and forces your wet, tear-lined eyes up to meet his.

They’re filled with a lust so dark, you wonder if just that look might swallow you whole.

“Prouda yourself?” He speaks, voice low.

Dangerous.

And you just smile, dazed, nodding. Nodding because you know where it’ll get you. Nodding because you just know how much it’ll entice him.

“‘Course you are,” he continues, softer, “Shoulda been honest — shoulda told your old man he raised a fuckin’ slut.”

Joel lifts you up, indelicately shoving you down on the table, right back in the position you’d originally started the visit in.

His eyes darken to black when he sees how wet you are, how fucked-out, needy, and unapologetic you are.

“And you know what, baby?” A deceiving coo as he lines himself up at your entrance, using his other hand to squeeze your jaw — tight.

You look at him with big, begging doe eyes, eyebrows already knitting together from the tantalizing contact.

“I’m really fuckin’ glad he did.”

And as Joel Miller roughly sheathes his cock inside your young, tight cunt, you find yourself agreeing with him.

—

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

AO3

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #tlou #request for em’s answering machine: answered<3

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zephyrrr101 · 1 month

Text

Let me help you

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x sister reader

Warning: Targcest/incest (that's the hype about Hotd loves), fingering, consensual everything basically, dirty talking, all the ASOIAF warnings, slight Dom Daemon, MINORS DNI.

Lots of thanks to @officialaemondtargaryen for being my beta for this one. Love you lots hon.

The day had been very tiring. You had lesson with your Septa continuously. And the woman had seemed to swore that she would not leave you alone until you have finished sewing your house sigil into the tapestry you were supposed to do for your grandsire, King Jaehaeyrs', soon approaching name day.

Your feet felt frozen with the long sitting, so did your back. Your hands ached before but now everything felt numb. Shaking them, as you tried to remove the numb feeling that seemed to have spread up to your elbows. You couldn't help but curse her as you got into your chamber after asking your sworn sheild for your maids to be called.

"Tried?"

A shriek left your mouth and you turned around to see your older brother, Daemon lazily lying on your bed with an amused smile.

"Fuck you, Daemon!" You sighed, leaning over the now closed door with your hand over your chest that reached there out of fright. You loved your brothers, you did, but Daemon was just as much of little shit as much he was charmer.

"Well, if you insist..." He drawled and you grabbed the closest thing to you and threw it at him, very obviously not hitting the target as the very expensive brass vase had landed on your pillow a good one hand away from your brother's head. Did you care? No.

"I'm already tired, Dae. And annoyed. So if you're here to rile me up, I suggest get the fuck out," You moved around the room, making your way over to other side of bed and laying down on your stomach very ungracefully, pushing the vase down on floor.

You think Daemon understood that you were quite serious. Well, he better have or else you were going to hit him perfectly on his perfect annoying face.

You felt his hand caressing your hair, the hair of same color that you shared with him. It brought you comfort as his fingers moved from the crown of your head to base, his fingers, just the right pressure, oh your brother could also be just as sweet as infuriating he was when you needed him to be.

"What happened?" He whispered and he turned you over and laid beside you. Now you were facing him, you could see a frown on his beautiful face. Along with your hair, you shared your nose with him, longer than that of Viserys'. And your cheekbones too. The same cheekbones that he was now caressing.

"My Septa had me doing needlework all day." You told. Daemon snorted at it and he received a poke in ribs for that whe you continued your complaining. "Do not laugh. My hands are numb from working on that tapestry. My legs and back feel just as useless."

"Is my haedar so much in pain?" He mused, sporting a smirk, but his words were genuine. You knew. Always.

Daemon was a mystery to most. You had seen girls gush at him, your maids-in-waiting were just mad about him. When you looked at him you saw nothing but your brother. A brother you loved and hated? No. No. You didn't hate him. He was more of like... A leech? Yes, a leech you did everything to squeeze the life out of you. But he did you just as much. Maybe more than anyone did. Just you did.

Daemon sat up leading you to frown at his action. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he smiled at you and shifted over to the end of the bed, taking your feet in his hands. "Let me help you." His slightly calloused hands pressed into your tender flesh, rubbing and squeezing and your eyes closed at the relief you felt as you let out pleased sighs. His hands moved up first to your ankles, rolling them as easily he could, then to calves, massaging your muscles tenderly, then around the knees and then above them with soft circular motions and then—

"Daemon," one of your eyes opened as your look at him sternly.

Daemon grinned, nothing just concern seemed to be there anymore. His fingers now made there way up to your inner thighs, his movements alternating between hard and soft and with each movement he seemed to move more closer to the apex of your legs.

"What are you doing, lekia?" You retorted, knowing where it was leading to.

"Being a good brother and helping my sister relax, of course," he leaned down, slowly coming up, and hovered over you, his face just above yours, you could easily smell Caraxes on him along with the leather vest that he wore most of the time and the sweet fragrance of Arbor Gold that was both of yours favourite.

"We can't, Daemon. Not now. I've called my maids." You tried to push him off you. As much as you loved Daemon doing all the other worldly things to you, getting caught was not something you could afford. Daemon did not budge. He simply dipped down, his lips meeting yours and you easily melted into him.

"Send them away. Who cares?" It wasn't that hard for you to be convinced when he was making such good effort.

One of your hands pulled at the hair, pulling him more into you as the other found it's way inside Daemon's tunic as you traced his skin. You loved the way his body felt on your skin. Each muscle strong, you could even trace some small scars that he received while training or in duels. Everything that made your brother beautiful.

His mouth left wet kisses down your jaw, his teeth nipping at soft skin of your neck and you gasp when he sucked on your skin. He was going to leave a mark. He was doing it deliberately. This bastard! You could feel your small cloth getting wet. Oh, he did it again. Biting that spot on your neck. You loved it when he did it.

Your hands moved down his chest, you caress every inch of his you could with the tunic that still was attached to him and moved down and down and down, reaching the lace of his breeches.

Daemon grabbed your hands, and pulled them up, keeping them prisoner above your head. "Daemon, what—"

"Hush, sweet sister," he spoke, and left a kiss on your lips. "Let me take care of you." He unlaced the top of your dress, the sleeves coming down swiftly and he suckled on the tits softly. His fingers found their way to your small cloth, unlacing the barrier that was between him and the sweet nether. "My, did I do that you, haedar?"

"Daemon," you gasp, his fingers moving through your lower lips, his thumb ghosting over you pearl, a shriek followed the gasp when you felt him flicking on it. "Fuck,"

His chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room where just your breaths could be heard. He bent and you felt it, his tongue slowly moving along the rises and lows of your cunt. He nibbled at the skin around your clit, sucking it and you moan.

His fingers caresses you and he slowly entered one digit inside you making you gasp.

Daemon rose, his fingers still in you, you could see your arousal coating his lips, his pink lips that shined under the candle light around your room. "I haven't even started and you're clenching like that?"

You moan out his name as he moves his fingers inside you, going back to sucking your pearl, lapping on your arousal. "Hmm, haedar, you taste like nectar of gods." He spoke while licking your juices and he added another finger inside you. Grabbing the sheets around you bit your lip to not make too much of a louder noise. Your sworn shield stood outside. If he heard anything, you would be sent to silent sister's just like your aunt Saera and you were sure that you won't be able to run away like her.

You undid the laces in thr front of your dress, loosening it around your chest, your mounds slipping out and you caress the skin, circling your fingers on your pebbles, pulling them and a moan left your mouth at the pleasure flooding through you from them and Daemon's fingers in you.

Daemon looked up and scowled at the sight of your fingers on your nipples. He smacked your hand with his other one, his fingers in you pausing and tugged at your pink tit.

You squealed in pain and glared at Daemon as he pulled back his fingers before adding another one. "Don't touch yourself," He gave you a stern look. "Good princess don't do such things. They let their elder brother take care of them."

You moaned as he thrusted his fingers inside you deeper, you could feel his rings in you, he was so deep. The other hand now playing with your mounds pulling, pinching caressing. "That feels good? Hmm? You are clenching on my fingers, sweet girl."

"Please, Daemon," You moaned, your hands finding his shoulders and you grabbed it hard, Daemon felt your nails biting his skin, his breeches becoming tighter with each moment. "Need you, Daemon."

"Need me? How so?" He grinned and he curled his fingers inside you, before pulling them back and pushing in again this time deeper and then again more deeper as if trying to find how far he could go just with his hand.

"Your mouth." You suck in a deep breath, "on me,"

"On you? Where? There's a lot a of places on you."

You would have thrown something at him again if he hadn't pressed his thumb on your clit making you almost scream. "My cunt! My cunt, damn it Daemon! Just fucking—"

You covered your mouth as soon as you could. You hadn't even been able to see when Daemon hand went back to sucking your pearl and lips. Your abdomen clenched, you were near your peak. And Daemon apparently knew that too since he had increased his pace.

"Princess!" Your maid's voice sounded muffled through the closed door. Or maybe it was the haze you were in. "Princess, we've come with your bath water,"

You glanced at Daemon between your legs and found him looking up at you with a devilish look in his eyes while he sucked and lapped on you like a hound who hadn't been fed in days and you felt yourself clench. Oh that infuriating bastard was enjoying it.

"Princess?" You maid called out again, her voice now sounding concerned.

"A minute!" You yelled and gasped. You couldn't see what Daemon was doing, but it felt like a blessing from Gods.

Your head was thrown back in your pillow and you felt your eyes rolling back as you reached your peak, your hand on your mouth, muffling all the moans it could as you came down from your high.

Daemon rose, still sitting between your legs, both you panting heavily. His lips glistening with your juices, he was grinning. And so were you. Daemon moved, coming to hover over you, he dropped and your lips met his, you tasted yourself on him and after a moment he pulled away, a fond look in his lilac eyes.

"What about you?" You asked, pointing at his cock, straining inside his breeches. You were tempted to loosen the laces and take him, but you knew that time was not on your side.

"I'll handle it. Maybe I'll visit Silk Street," he shrugged.

You sat up on your bed as he got off the bed, you glanced between him and the door where your maids stood outside, "Where are you going to hide?"

Daemon gave you a confused look, "Why must I hide? I am going to my room." You were even more confused as he started to walk behind your bed.

"Daemon the maids outside—" Him pushing a part of wall behind you had you stop talking. Well, it actually moving had you shut up. "What in the seven hell? Daemon?"

Your brother smirked at you as he entered what you now understood were the secret tunnels Maegor had built in the Keep. He had known about them. That fucker!

"You little cunt! Fucking—"

"Good bye, sister. Enjoy your bath. Your maids' are waiting." And he quicked his way inside the tunnel, closing the part of wall leaving the room as he wasn't even here.

Damn, your brother. You loved him so much.

#house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #daemon targeryan #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #targ reader #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #sister reader #daemon targareyn smut

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