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#Poor Sunset though
glitchedcyberfox · 1 year
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royalarchivist · 3 months
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Mine: Refer to me however you want!
Mike: Yeah, for me too. I think I use all pronouns too.
[They high-five and fist-bump each other]
Mine:
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[via @barbmine]
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sunset-peril · 10 months
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I love how in less than a year I went from: Lullay, Space Princess - "I will put in extensive research to make sure this short story could plausibly be actually canon"
to
The Sound of Our Silence (Which I'm considering re-titling) - "I world-build all of AA Europe from a human trafficking B-Plot and gave Athena Cykes an identity theft mini-plot, a mechanical spine and a toddler(who I brutally killed off) just because I wanted to and then after Spirit of Justice resurrected the kid because I made myself too sad and gave her another kid to make up for the trouble and neglected to read about Turnabout Time Traveler or Turnabout Revolution before doing literally any of it."
Oh well. \(ツ)/
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seraphfeathers · 1 year
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rip to joe gillis but if I met a hot deranged sugar mommy milf living in a big crumbling mansion i would simply remove her from her enablers & fall in love with her
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belethlegwen · 1 year
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Hello My Dearest I'm Here With the Shopping List. Gimme #1 For Martellis because that man is on Benecio Del Toro levels of needing a goddamn nap and I would like to know that it is even possible for him. Also 4 for Henry people need to know for reasons.
14 for Miller tell me how sappy this beautiful animal can be i wanna know
Hello My Love, I have gone shopping for you and have brought you these:
#1 - What’s something that puts them to sleep without fail? [Commander Peter Martellis]
Daniel is literally the only person alive who knows this about him, only because he and Peter have had to crash in the same quarters a number of times.
Peter's had a hard time sleeping since he was a boy, his mind constantly gets tangled on something right before sleep and will not let it go unless it focuses on something else, and it's very hard for him to get it to focus on something else unless he's surrounded by a lot of noise (like in a crowded bunk room)-- which is still a problem, but notably less of one. His Mom managed to come up with a trick, where she would put a tinted shade over a candle or a lantern to change the colour of the room to blue (or green if she couldn't get her hands on spare blue dye from her employer) and told him he was only allowed to think about things if they were the same colour as the room. If for some reason he's in a room and the colour of it changes, the man's brain is programmed to start listing things that same/similar color and he knocks out pretty quickly after that. His bedside lantern in his quarters at both the Training Grounds and the Barracks have blue-tinted glass.
#4 - What’s one of their comfort foods? [Henry]
He's got two he goes for as his absolute favourite comfort foods.
For sweet: Oat & Apple Crumble, basically an apple-crisp type recipe but with more of a cakey/bread kind of structure around it. His Mother used to make it for them and neighbours at the start of fall of every year when the apples around their farm were ripe.
For savoury: Chicken stew and dumplings or beef pot pie, it's a tie. Homey meal with a comforting mix of meat, veggies, sauce and bread of some variety. Whenever he's in a port he looks for something like this to fill him up before he heads back to sea. His all time favourite comfort meal, but he basically never gets to eat it anymore: It's an indulgence, he admits to the decadence of it, but growing up on a farm with a strong rotation of egg-laying chickens, ducks, and geese... the man adores a properly cooked duck. His Mom knew the perfect way to cook it where it was less fatty and didn't sit on your gut as heavily, and his Dad had an incredible marinade or rub for it that made it transcendent to eat, and also made the fat-drippings just gold to pour on vegetables or sop up with bread.
#14 - How sappy are they? [Miller]
Miller plays sappy very very well. He loves to flirt. He'll try to cook a meal (or pull a favour with someone else who can) if he hears it's your favourite, he'll recite song lyrics or poetry if he thinks it will woo you, he'll pick a bouquet of flowers just because he happens to see them and thinks you would like them, though he's terrible for remembering the names of flowers so you'll sometimes just have to settle with him remembering what colour of flower is your favourite, everything else is a matter of what's available.
He still mostly sees flirting as a game. He has all of these as strategies to impress a woman, and sometimes that's all he's aiming to do: just get a smile out of a woman and then be satisfied and move on. What he really loves is when the woman plays back like it is a game. Nobody's feelings get hurt and he still might get some action if that's what he's aiming for, but mostly he just wants everyone to have a good time.
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puppetmaster13u · 4 months
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Prompt 169
Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever. 
It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident. 
It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine. 
He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages. 
He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely. 
Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings. 
Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh. 
Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case! 
The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…
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niluffa · 7 months
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tw : subby sukuna, praising, really ooc | cw : 0,8k
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“you wanna cum?” you whisper into sukuna’s ear. his back was firmly pressed against your chest, your bicep barely brushing past his waist as you stroked his cock from behind.
this was embarrassing. he was the king of curses, you were supposed to be the one begging for release, not him. guess the tables have changed a bit too quickly.
“y-yeah,” sukuna whines, voice and throat raw from the amount of times he screamed his lungs out─how many times did he cum again? sukuna can’t remember, and if you asked for the number, he would be screwed.
“yeah, pretty boy?” you chuckle, slowing your hand down on purpose. he has been through so many orgasms, he can take a small break, can’t he?
according to him, the answer is no.
“no!” sukuna sobs out at the lack of sensation on his cock, and he knew you did it to play with him─taking your one and only chance to mock and toy with the ryomen sukuna himself.
but how can he think of himself as mighty when he’s begging for your hand to start moving again?
“what do we say when─” you get cut off.
“p-please!” sukuna cries, hands aggressively itching to just grab you by your throat and force you on his cock─which, he doesn’t, since even though he’s the strongest, he’s a bit scared of you, (he’ll never admit it.)
“oh?” usually, you would slap him for cutting you off, but for now, you took your time to admire your two hours of hard work.
sukuna’s entire body was covered with sweat, his muscles gleaming under the orange tones of the sunset that peeked from behind the curtains.
tears, drool, and snot ran down his face. the normal sight of a crying person was a red face─which sukuna couldn’t dodge. the angry red colour dusted his cheeks, matching the current state of his cock.
the shade of red his poor dick held was so unintentionally gorgeous, it almost brought tears to your eyes.
in reality, it didn’t─your face holding zero amount of pity.
“good pet,” you praised him as if you trained a dog─telling him what things he did correctly and what he messed up. taming the king of curses wasn’t easy, but you did notice minor changes in his behavior.
your hand sped up. yes, you could stay at the painfully slow pace and watch sukuna cry himself to another orgasm. but he’s been such a sweetheart lately, and how could you deny his pleasure when he looks at you with those glossy crimson eyes of his?
“yes, yes, yes,” sukuna babbled at the sudden change of speed. his sharp fangs sunk into his bottom lip in an attempt to hide his moan─which failed as he still managed to choke out a few weak whimpers.
you’ve seen sukuna in many states, and his superhuman stamina never failed to amaze you, whether it was in a fight or during your intimate times in the bedroom.
but even then, you could see that sukuna was slowly reaching his limits. his throat was raw, only able to create the same pair of weak whimpers and whines.
it was visible on his face too. the way his eyelids struggled to stay open, and his mouth opening and closing like a fish. he kept switching between biting his lip to hide his moans and letting his jaw drop so he could gasp for air.
nevertheless, he was close.
“p-please,” sukuna chokes out again. the back of his head rested against your shoulder as he brutally failed to keep his spine straight─it’s not like he wanted to look at his cock being stroked either.
“i know, ‘kuna, i know,” you whisper and for the sake of ending his suffering, your wrist moves faster. sukuna felt the soft pad of your thumb brush against his tip every time your hand went up and he yelped.
“f-fuck!” sukuna cries, mouth hanging open to let out the most hot-blooded moans you’ve ever heard. damn, if only you had recorded him, you were sure his onlyfans would pay your rent for months.
“g-gonna cum─” sukuna gets cut off by his own moan, which was rather high-pitched and almost too feminine for the way he looked. the familiar burning feeling inside his tummy rose every second, tears and snot pouring down his face.
“‘s okay,” you coo at him, thumb circling around his hole every now and then─sukuna sob, and you grin, “you can let go, hm?” sukuna doesn’t argue, he doesn’t growl, hiss, or yell like he always does.
he listens and comes. and when he does, he comes hard.
the overwhelming feeling of release washes over him, thin and watery ropes of cum, that were caused by the unknown amount of orgasms he had before, landing right on right on his chest.
“you did so good,” you hum and continue to milk his cock to help him get rid of every last bit that was left of him; even against his protests of “too much!”
but in the end, he got his release, so who is he to complain?
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arminsumi · 8 months
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can i request fluffy young love with yuji? he reminds me of that one song “and they called it puppy loveeeeeeee” he’s so sweet
PUPPY LOVE.
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NOTE: this is so cute i sat here blushing and grinning pls!! and yesss that one song ahhh!! 🥲 it's got yuji written all over it. anyways hope u likeyy 💗
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
PLAY ME ♪ and they called it puppy love
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yuji's eyes are heart-shaped when he has them on you. and he keeps a very straight posture when in your company; shoulders taught, chest puffed out a little, trying his best to impress you by showing off his tallness.
heeling wherever you go, he follows with peppy footsteps. even a stranger could tell that he's lovestruck.
his swooning is so blatant that it's become obvious even to his teachers that he likes you. he really exudes the 'i like you' vibes. the air between you and him is always buzzing with something that can't be identified by anything other than —
"puppy love. isn't it cute, suguru?" yuji's teacher comments as he catches the boy flirting with you yet again.
"mhm. very cute." suguru hums to satoru.
⁕⁕⁕
"can i walk you home?" yuji asks eagerly.
it's become a daily thing for him to walk you home. he knows you won't say no, of course, he likes asking just to hear you say yes. it makes him giddy.
he walks close alongside you down the sunset-lit streets, "clumsily" bumping his shoulder into you. the brief close proximity gives him butterflies.
the school day usually ended with the two of you sharing earbuds, listening to a playlist that the two of you made together, stopping by street food stalls, nearly choking on your soda when he makes a joke that catches you off-guard. things like that.
but something different happens today.
he holds your hand, when you two are about to cross the street.
you're staring at the walking person sign, impatiently waiting for it to turn green. and yuji is calculating his moves so hard that it feels as fatiguing as playing chess. the more he thinks about it, the more his hand starts to shake. the back of his fingers graze the back of your hand, you subconsciously reciprocate and — just like that you're finger-locking with your best friend.
he flattens his lips to stop from smiling. there's a boyish blush searing from the apple of his cheeks down to his jawline.
for every walk home after that, he always held your hand when crossing the road. eventually, he just started holding your hand the whole walk back to your house, and even down the school corridors.
each time he squeezed your hand in his, he was thinking of leaping in for a kiss. especially when you locked eyes.
sometimes the two of you could feel that you wanted to kiss each other, so you smiled bashfully and looked away. he'd laugh and mutter an unnecessary apology.
but one day, he braved it, and dove right in. he swiped a kiss right off your lips. he was so quick about it that you were too shocked to register what had happened — frozen in place.
the two of you looked at each other shyly, then started giggling to cope with the overwhelming romantic tension.
yuji got addicted to kissing you very quickly after the first kiss. little pecks at your cheek, on your hand, sometimes a cheeky smooch on your neck. poor megumi and nobara always complained about witnessing too much PDA. and though the teachers thought it was adorable, they scolded the hell out of you two when you tried to kiss in between classes.
some months after, yuji slipped a little promise ring on your finger. he seemed so nonchalant about it. but he was laid in bed daydreaming at night about one day putting a real ring on your finger.
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎���� 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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watermelon-beachboy · 2 years
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just got back from a camping trip 💪 i am feeling so horrible. slept on the ground for four days and had some rlly bad pain flare-ups but i did get these sick ass pictures!
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riaki · 4 months
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guys pls consider… lifeguard!gojo bit inspired by a post i saw a long time ago from @/shotorus, thank u sel + inez !
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lifeguard!gojo, who signs you in for a pool session and gives you the wrong time-slot wristband because he’s too busy gawking at you with hearts in his blue eyes to notice he registered you to swim for 12pm-2pm. when, in reality, it’s 4pm in the afternoon and the hot sun is slowly sinking in the sky.
lifeguard!gojo, who mistakes your polite attempts to correct him as signs of disinterest; he sees things through romance-tinted glasses. of course he can't keep a wounded pride, and so he makes it his saturday afternoon goal to win your heart. after all, who in their right mind would reject him in all his dashing chlorine scented glory?
lifeguard!gojo, who reintroduces himself all suave and cool and he thinks it's working mid-hair slick-back— until he gets smacked in the face by a stray rubber ball, and his sunglasses go flying. it leaves a red spot of hashmarks on his nose, like the ball was a cookie cutter and he was the dough. but he doesn't mind, because he got to hear your pretty laugh as you pick up his shades and hand them back to him, albeit at his own expense. you even say a cute thing or two about the chipped popsicle sticker on the frame.
lifeguard!gojo, who's unreasonably (and immaturely) upset over the fact he can't seductively rub sunscreen into your back because you already have beforehand. but he's not complaining; it smells good when he's forced a little closer to you to avoid a rampaging train of kids running across the pool deck. he should yell at them, but the smell of summery citrus and sea salt wafting on the humid breeze distracts him.
lifeguard!gojo, who pours every ounce of his remaining energy into gettin your attention the entire time you're there— with loud whistle blows from the scribble-adorned plastic whistle hanging from his neck, grabbing your attention, only to just offer a charming wink in your direction. or, squeezing idle small talk between every lap you swim, teasing you with a lazy grin on his lips from under his shaded lifeguard stand when you complain about the heat of the blazing sun.
lifeguard!gojo, who ropes his poor, exhausted snack stand friend with the blonde hair and dark shadows beneath his eyes into helping him— when you give up on swimming laps and begrudgingly let him convince you into going down the waterslides as if you’re a nine year old with neon pink inflatable buoy rings around your arms.
lifeguard!gojo, who forces nanami (snack stand man) to ‘accidentally’ send you down the slide early— you’re caught up in the surprise, the sound of rushing water and kids shouting and a cicada’s buzz filling your ears— and before you know it you’re tossed into the bottom of the pool by the stream of water, disoriented and panicking until two steady arms fish you out of the pool.
lifeguard!gojo, who ‘rescues you from drowning’ holding you bridal style to his chest with his sunglasses balanced on the edge of his nose, letting you catch a glimpse of his uncanny blue eyes hidden beneath his dripping white hair. his whistle lanyard hangs loosely around his neck, drawing a line down the center of his toned chest.
lifeguard!gojo, who can’t help but double over as he laughs obnoxiously— boyishly when he gets to watch your face flush cherry as you scramble to get out of his arms and fall straight back into the refreshing water with a splash.
lifeguard!gojo, who’s forced to reconcile with what he thinks is defeat when he gets you kicked out of the pool early because of his earnest registering mistake— and in doing so, you forget your ring on the pool deck. it's just your luck— you don't even realize it until the sun's almost set and you’re halfway home.
lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning up and getting ready to close for the night when he spots a gleam of silver reflecting the hazy purple sunset, and he recognizes it as your jewelry (even though that was the first time he ever met you). of course he'd remember it— he'd been absentmindedly staring at your fingers, burning them into his mind; imagining how they'd feel in his damp hair.
lifeguard!gojo, who slips your ring into his pocket after trying it on and marveling at how small your hands must be in comparison to his.
lifeguard!gojo, who’s cleaning out the gutters, waist deep in the pool, when he hears your voice again— pretty like birdsong in the spring, dew gathering on the fragile petals of blooming petals.
lifeguard!gojo, who waits for you to come in— the gate was unlocked— and watches as you kneel on the concrete deck, elbows on your knees as you smile down at him. you look really cute, with your hair falling over your face like that, framed by the dying sunlight.
lifeguard!gojo, who’s a little disheartened when you tell him all you came back for was your ring, and not him. or his phone number.
lifeguard!gojo, who disappears beneath the water for a moment— then resurfaces from the pool dripping wet, hair clinging to his face while he acts as though he'd found your ring at the bottom of the pool. "it's stainless steel, yeah? don't worry about rust." he reassures you with a chuckle when you panic; he thinks it's cute.
lifeguard!gojo, who holds the ring just out of your grasp when you make a grab for it, laughing as you almost fall right into the pool.
lifeguard!gojo, who tells you he'll only give it back if you give him your phone number in exchange as he climbs out of the pool and sits next to you, on the gutters, the sound of rushing water filling his ear.
lifeguard!gojo, who, sitting by your side, focuses on the way the pool looks with the lights turned on, an ethereal underwater dreamscape distorted by the incessant moving water. a way of distracting himself from how beautiful you look in the painted sunset.
lifeguard!gojo, who gets his first taste of you when you ask him to face you; you muffle his yelp of surprise, but it doesn’t matter because you taste even better than you smell, a sweetness like crystal rock candy and blueberries on his tongue when his lips meet yours.
lifeguard!gojo, who takes the opportunity to catch your wrist and slide your ring back onto your finger with a quick lingering kiss to your cheek; his lips are a little wet from his earlier pool dip, but the dreamy look in your eyes tells him you don’t mind.
lifeguard!gojo, who sees you out, still riding on the thrill of your lips; the pride in his chest now that he's got your contact saved on his phone with an excessive amount of heart emojis and a (˘ڡ˘ς) next to your name.
lifeguard!gojo, who can't wait for the next time you come back to the pool, and who ignores the angry slew of texts from his boss scolding him for leaving the gate unlocked in favor of the selfie you send him.
you: [ one image attached ]
lifeguard boy 🛟🤍 : GAYATTTTT LET ME HIT PLSPLSPLSS 🙈🙈😝😝😝😋😋🤞🔥🔥🔥⁉️‼️🔞💯💯😼😻💺💺🗽
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bonus: nanami gets u two popsicles to share tagging @sugumimi NAOMI I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WERE TALKING AB my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !
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sluttywonwoo · 4 months
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I have such a gross fantasy of Joshua Hong fucking me gently in front of a fire in a cabin while it snows. That man is so romantic and sweet I have a toothache
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"warm now, baby?"
you smile and hum in affirmation as you hug your knees to your chest, watching joshua stoke the fire.
he joins you on top of the blanket he'd laid on the floor a moment later when the flames are roaring and the firewood is crackling in the hearth.
then he wraps his arm around you and kisses you on the forehead. "what about now?"
"even better," you answer. "but i think i could stand to be even warmer."
joshua raises his eyebrows. "oh yeah?"
"mhm."
you shrug off his arm and lay down on the blanket, pulling him with you so that he's hovering over you. he gets the hint instantly, probably because it wasn't so much of a hint as it was an obvious invitation, and kisses you on the lips. he's tugging at your thermal top in almost no time, pausing only when he remembers just how cold you had been up until this point.
"are you sure you want to do this now? we can wait."
"yes, i'm sure. i want you now, shua," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles behind his back to pull him closer.
he half laughs, half moans as you grind up into him, feeling him start to harden through his sweatpants.
"okay, why don't we keep your shirt on then? we can take everything else off."
it's not really a compromise you want to make but you settle for it anyway, too desperate to try and protest further.
joshua pulls your shirt back down over your tummy and moves on to your pants, getting them and your underwear off in one fluid motion. he whistles under his breath at the sight between your thighs.
"no wonder you were so impatient. you're already soaked for me."
you've been dating for so long that you shouldn't get flustered when your boyfriend says things like that but you feel your cheeks warm in embarrassment all the same. he smirks at your reaction which makes you even wetter, something you hope he doesn't notice.
"poor thing. i won't make you wait too long, baby. just a second..." joshua yanks his t-shirt off over his head and lays it underneath yours like a pillow before shimmying out of his sweats and slotting himself between your legs. "ready?"
"yeah, give it to me."
"so romantic," he mutters, pushing himself inside of you anyway.
it isn't often that joshua fucks you without any foreplay but the main goal today is to warm you up and anything that isn't straight-up fucking you would leave part of your body exposed to the cold. like this, he can lay his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket and keep you warm as he gently fucks into you. it's exactly what he does, draping himself over you as he starts to move.
already, you feel warmer. whether it's due to the fire, his body heat, or his dick inside of you, you can't be sure but if you were a betting woman, you'd put your money on it being a combination of the three.
he's going slow to let you adjust to the stretch but it still feels like he's splitting you in half with every thrust. it feels heavenly, though. almost too good. you swear you're seeing god every time he bottoms out and the way he's praising you like you are one is making it impossible to stay grounded.
"i love you," joshua whispers, pressing his lips to your neck. "i love you so much, you're taking it so well for me."
it's all too much. too much and not nearly enough and you want to stay like this with him forever but you also want to fucking cum over and over and...
and he looks so pretty in the firelight. the ever-changing glow flickering against his skin makes him appear radiant, like all the colors of the sunset are being projected on him in waves.
"feels so good, shua," you gasp, back arching off the floor.
he strokes your cheek. "i can tell. you're crying already, my love."
you sniffle, giggling deliriously as you try to blink the tears out of your eyes. his figure is blurred behind them and you want to see him clearly. "i d-didn't even notice. 'm sorry."
"don't apologize, baby. you know i love making you cry- well, in this context, of course. means i'm doing something right."
"you're doing everything right," you confirm.
joshua sucks in a breath to steel himself before continuing. "for what it's worth, you f-feel so good too, baby. you're so fucking warm and tight... i don't know how long i'm going to last."
he sounds apologetic about it but you shake your head and grip his shoulders like you're going to give him a pep talk. "we have all night," you assure him. "we can go as many times as we want, as long as you're here keeping me warm."
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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okay but branching off of my last innocent reader anon.. imagine jj realizing innocent!reader has an oral fixation - 🍓
he’d know as soon as he catches on to your addiction to ice popsicles and ice cream, constantly having the wooden stick of one pinched between your fingers, staring off into space, absentmindedly licking and sucking away. you preferred not to get involved in the debates and arguments between the pogues anyway, just happy to sit there enjoying your icy treat and zoning out. he found it pretty cute.
it was constant though, the sound of your little licks and swallows second nature to him by this point. he’d even purchased a few for you himself when noticing you in a sour or worrisome mood, instantly lifting your expression once you got your mouth around something.
he found himself staring often. for someone so innocent, you sure looked like you knew what you were doing. it was obscene at times, his eyes honing in on the way your lips wrap around the popsicle, some of that cold flavoured syrup running down your wrist, or your chin and eventually the swell of your chest poking from your bikini. you barely even noticed, swirling your tongue around the length of it. if you weren’t so naive he’d swear you were doing it on purpose.
it was one evening sat on the porch with him, head leaning against his chest as the two of you watch the sunset slowly melt into the water that stretched out for miles. you’re sucking away on your popsicle, breathing slow and calm as you lap up the dripping liquid. he’s watching you, unabashedly, but you don’t seem to notice or care.
“think im gonna have to cut you off from these things. dental work is expensive, y’know — these things are gonna fuck with your teeth.” he tsks and you shrug sleepily.
“worth it.” you hum, and he continues to stare.
“i can find you other stuff. if you need to just keep something in your mouth at all times there’s solutions to that.”
“like what?” you turn a little, blinking at him innocently. he stares at your mouth, low lidded with a twinkle of amusement in his gaze and pinches the wooden stick with his own fingers, taking control of your grasp on it. he swipes the tip of the cold icy treat over your lips, making them all pretty and drippy before his own mouth opens a little, subconsciously encouraging you to open yours, letting the popsicle back in.
he almost feels guilty at how fast his cock starts stiffening in his shorts when you suck on it obediently, batting your lashes curiously up at him as he pushes the long icy popsicle further past your lips. he begins pulling it backwards and forwards and your brows furrow, a gentle hand flying up to hold his wrist as he does so. your cheeks are hollowing, poor thing — tongue in your mouth trying to lap up the syrup but he’s moving a little faster than you’d like. you let out a noise, close to a whimper mixed with a groan in frustration at this, and it only spurs the smirking blonde further, pushing the treat as far as you’ll let it— your eyes watering with a quiet gag.
he pulls the popsicle back out and you pant, a string of drool and syrup dangling from your bottom lip, a sight so vulgar he wished he could photograph it.
“jayj.” you swallow, lightly scolding him.
“y’know, i think i have something better for you. if you’ll let me.”
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yourwinchesterbros · 8 months
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THE TWO OF US
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Paring – Joel Miller x Fem reader / 10.3K Words
Summary – You find Joel taking care of you yet again, but not in the way you want. Tonight, you decide to address it.
A/N - I couldn’t stop thinking about this, so I decided to write it. Inspired by Episode 3 of the last of us, takes place in the clearing that Joel and Ellie settle in for the night but this time, it’s Joel and you.
Warnings – Minors, do not interact. This fic is 18+ only
The filthiest thing I’ve written so far, and I put all the blame on Joel Miller. He makes me absolutely feral!
Smut with little plot. Poor girl gets edged for way too long, teasing, masturbation for both, daddy kink, pet names - pretty girl, brat, sweetheart etc. (Joel calls reader whore once) Dirty talk, thigh riding, reader humps her sleeping bag, cursing, soft/dom Joel. Mentions of murder, blood, and wounds and weapons – knives, gun. (Reader has a small cut). Joel is in his fifties; readers age is not specified but absolutely over the age of 20. Please Let me know if I’ve missed anything! Enjoy!
“We’re stopping here f’ the night.”
Joel accelerates the Chevy S-10 ranger off the familiar pavement and onto the rough prairie towards the forest line. The uneven earth below you causes the truck to wobble, you grip the handle mounted above you to stay steady.
The sun is on its way to set and reveal the sky she has in mind for this evening. You hope it’s another blue and pink one, when the clouds blend it becomes a milky mauve and it’s Joel's favourite kind of sunset. Which naturally, and secretly, is the very reason why it’s become your favourite too.
You roll down the passenger window with the manual hand crank, wincing at the sore residing across your collarbone. A souvenir from earlier endeavors. Well, early as in this very morning.
When you and Joel came across what seemed like a stationed FEDRA stop, relief washed over when it was revealed to be just a band of yahoos. You quickly learned they were as nervous as you. Ironically enough, that’s an advantage, as your travelling partner was unlike the lot of you all. Joel possesses a different mindset than others. A different perspective that was always so solidified. Certain.
As the air in the environment shifted, it became hostile. This was a group with no good intentions. Not for the two of you anyhow. Yet you saw the fear grow in their eyes when Joel charged, surging forward, letting survival take over. The thing is, Joel also has a different sense of fear. Such as fear of getting off track while trying to find his brother, among a fear of running out of coffee and most impending, the fear of getting old. That one makes you laugh.
 Therefore, when the two of you approached the group of three men and a lady, fear didn’t have a seat at Joel's table. So, your morning kerfuffle was exactly that – a mere kerfuffle that ended with 3 dead and one spared with a worn-out map. She won’t make it far though. Not on her own.
You initially tried to kill her yourself. An opportunity that was seconds away when you were straddling her chest, your knife hovered above her sternum, promising a fatal strike but you were viciously flung off by Joel with a quick “We don’t kill women” as he returned to bludgeon some poor guy’s face. The woman however had survival rules of her own. Taught by the men she traveled with; her version of death didn’t discriminate.
She was quick to retrieve her blade you’d tossed moments ago. Before you knew it, she was on top of you faster than you could gather yourself.  She now had the high ground, the advantage and with no one to stop her, she swung the sharp steel across your skin with purpose. She aimed for your neck, but thankfully you were faster, your reactions saved you and you were rewarded a swift cut to the collarbone instead. You had reached for her jaw, throwing her off balance as you shoved her face upwards. Joel had then come to your rescue, pulling her to the side by her neck before putting the fear of God into her.
It could’ve been worse for you, but a part of you was relieved as you didn’t have to encounter the grief that weighs on one’s soul when they take a life. You’ve never killed before, but that doesn’t mean you won't. You’ve accepted the fact that it’s only a matter of time, but it’s an event you’re not eager to attend.
As much as you reamed out Joel for letting her go, for letting you nearly die at her hands, you really only chastised to keep hearing his apologies in that low southern drawl. It was a record you could keep on replay for all eternity. Joel saying sorry? What a sound.
With a tender touch, you press against the damp blue material covering your wound. It had stopped bleeding a while ago, but a bit had still seeped through. Joel had given you some gauze which clung to the wound tightly as the blood hardened, like a scab. You figure it’ll have to be changed soon.
You gaze out the window, appreciating the cool breeze whistling across your features. You can smell the soil underneath the green grass as the truck tires roll over them.
To your surprise Joel continues past the trees, into the forest itself. A sliver of anxiety burst in your chest.
“We’re not camping by the tree line?” You question as your eyes frantically scour each gap between the lush evergreen trees.
“Not safe enough” he barely utters to you as he himself scans the earthy environment. “Less chance for surprises deep in here”.
“Mmmkay …” you hum, feeling a wave of sadness as you realize watching golden hour wouldn’t be in the cards tonight. Nature in this area is overgrown, and rich. The trees are abundant, dense, and evade the sky above you.
With a light squeal, the truck comes to a halt, and when the engine dies you know this is home for the night.
You pull out of the passenger seat and groan as you stretch your body, raising your hands above your head.
“Today was a long one hey? How many hours were we on the road?” You question as you glance around your new surroundings.
“You should know, you’re the one who told me you were gunna start observin’ more” He raises a brow, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he unlocked the tailgate. “Guess it’s hard t’ count when you’re nappin’ half the ride.”
“Okay let’s not get carried away there, I don’t plan on being on your level of analysis, Miller.” You smirk at him as you help him unload the sleeping bags and the worn-out Coleman’s barbeque.
With a thud of the bags against the ground he turns to you.
“What’d I say ‘bout usin’ my last name?” His brows are drawn tightly now. His brown eyes dark like char, focus on yours. He places one of his hands, palm side down against the body of the truck, the other gripping his hip.
You raise your own hands in surrender as he scoffs with a shake of his head but continues unpacking. It’s something you tend to poke and prod him with from time to time. But only from time to time.  Well, in the short time that you’ve known him anyway.
For some reason, it really does tick Joel off when you say his surname but that’s precisely why you enjoy using it when he least expects it. Because if he knows it’s coming, he won’t let it slide and you’re left talking to yourself for the remainder of the day, sometimes two. So, you use it when you want to be momentarily scolded, but you say it as if it’s an accident. A habit not quite beaten out of the inner brat in you.
You hear him mumbling to himself again as he splays the sleeping bags out, readying the grill for whatever canned goods are left. Sounds something like “You’re gunna learn one f’ these days” but you pay no further attention as you skip to the driver’s side of the truck, leaning into the center console to grab the cheap lantern. You won’t need it yet, but darkness tends to creep in much faster when you’re in the woods. You want it close by as you’ve not been granted access to firearms. No matter how many times you’ve pleaded Joel, it wasn’t up for discussion. Therefore, you’re left with your trusty blade and ‘works half-of-the-time’ lantern.
Joel heats up two cans, one possessing creamed corn and the other, ravioli. You prefer corn, but you don’t miss the smile that briefly dances in Joel’s eyes when he gets to take the ravioli for himself. Another mental note you’ve made about Joel. He likes his Chef Boyardee.
As the night crawls on, Joel summons you over with a sharp whistle to the tailgate where he’s standing.
“Hey, c’mere,” he pats the hard plastic of the trunk.
“Joel, I just got comfy. I’m finally warm in my little cocoon,” you pause as you wait for his mercy. None was served as he snaps his middle finger against his thumb to you again, motioning the truck with his forefinger as he continues unzipping a little red bag with the other.
“Get over here,” he demands but not in a mean way, his voice was softer than before.
“You’re not the boss of me,” you whisper under your breath as you make your way over to him, shuffling the sleeping bag off your feet.
“Heard that,” he grunts.
“Good,” you chirp back as you stand next to him.
“Up” he says, once again motioning his forefinger upwards to the tailgate.
With a roll of your eyes, you turn your back to the truck and hoist your bottom from beneath you up onto the bench. You sit there quietly, swaying your legs while watching Joel prod through the medical bandages and wipes with his large fingers in that small, little bag. A ping of jealousy rises in your chest as you wished you could have his fingers explore your –
“Quit thinkin ’so loud,” Joel interrupts your thoughts as he tears open a small white package between his teeth. An action that makes you bite your bottom lip involuntarily.
It’s no secret you struggle around Joel. Maybe it’s the long-term effects of the apocalypse, causing so many to lose the common sense of touch with one another. Creating incredibly touch-starved individuals, especially you.
Maybe it’s because you’ve never really been properly touched by a man, and you think Joel would know how, you think of it far too often. Or maybe it’s simply because a man like Joel emits sexuality with his entire being. It’s like he releases a pheromone that makes those around him go feral for his manhood. At least that’s how you feel anyways.
Your eyes tend to linger longer than you’d like when you watch Joel grip his rifle, his strong hand cupping the neck of the gun. The way his fingers trace lightly on the trigger, teasing the bullet inside to erupt. The way he narrows his sight into the scope, his breath held before exhaling in the most sensual way. The way his broad shoulders rise and fall before he makes his kill. Hell, you could watch this man paint and still be in a pool of your own arousal.
Maybe it’s just because Joel is the most masculine man you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, becoming partners with, in the coworker sense of course. He possesses the knowledge, the experience, the determination, the patience, and strength… of survival. But you’ve always wondered if those same factors come into play when he likes to…play. 
Joel has always noticed when you’re thinking, the way you zone out on his lips or his large fingers. Your eyelids become hooded as he watches the filthy gears turn inside your mind. It’s something you do without even realizing and he fucking loves it. It makes his heartbeat fonder; his ego grow bigger and without fail, each time, it makes his cock twitch in his jeans. Which is the final action that brings him back to reality to snap your dirty little naïve mind out of it.
He understands the effect he has on women, how they would stare at him back at the QZ. Crawl to him with need, begging to be put out of their misery. It’s a quality he doesn’t mind as it makes it easy to find release but when it comes to you, he scolds himself for ever letting his mind drift into those delicious, curious, devilish thoughts. Your innocence is a hidden treasure in this corrupt world, and Joel simply won’t corrupt that too.
He recognizes the way you stray close to him as if he's shelter. The way you look at him with wide eyes when he senses danger, how you shuffle so tight into him, because you know he’ll protect you. And he will. He quietly prides himself in being your gatekeeper. How you give him complete control over your life, a feeling he’s only ever had once before.
He pictures you as a small ornament made of thin glass. So precious, yet so fragile and it sits so nicely in his roughed up, deadly, deleterious hands. He could shatter it so easily. Let the pieces fall at his feet and walk away before the fear of failure seeps in, had he done that in the start, his feelings would be protected.
But the problem is, he’s gotten attached to his little ornament. Therefore, he’ll watch every move he makes, to be sure not to flinch and accidently crack it. He dreads the weight that comes with the stiffness of protecting you, how it makes his body and mind ache, but he knew. He knew the moment he took you out of the QZ and into the unknown, that he would ache till the day he takes his last breath. He made his choice that very night, that he's responsible for you. He just didn’t realize how much he would care. How much you’ve impacted him. How much of you has molded into him and the things he recognizes in you that you’ve gained from him. His little ornament, he vows to keep safe because the eternal hell that comes with defeat, he simply won’t go through again. 
He stares down at you, looking at your eyes still trained on his mouth that has just ripped open the white plastic. He wondered if it reminded you of the memories that creeped into his. If you've ever seen one before. A type of rubber that used to sit in his wallet pre apocalypse when he travelled to seedy bars.
“Take your shirt off” You snap your eyes from his lips to meet his brown ones. They’re still dark from the “Miller” comment you made earlier but this time there’s a twinkle you can’t quite read.
“You, y- you want me to take it off?” You speak so softly but in such a needy way Joel has to forcefully repress the groan that’s stuck in his throat. Instead, he smirks at you.
“Need t’ see the cut”. You blush at his words, feeling silly for assuming he’d want anything otherwise. God you were so lost in your train of thoughts, you’d briefly forgotten what you were sitting here for.
Joel catches sight of your blush by the low light of the lantern sitting next to the med bag. He knows he can’t give into you, or let himself ponder on you for too long, but that doesn't mean he can’t have a little fun teasing you.
You grab the hem of your sweater, peeling it up and over your head, leaving you in your white tank top. One that had been stained from dirt and blood, but you’ve washed it in rivers in between travels. The stains never come out, no matter how hard you try.
You hear his breath hitch as you pluck the sweater off, bundling it to your side and it only fuels the ache in between your legs that much more.
You slip in and out of your trance, feeling so vulnerable yet powerful in the hands of Joel. Waiting for his next move. You watch his eyes examine your cut, as he chews on the inside on his cheek.
“S’not too bad, but could get infected, especially when we’re out here,” he explains, opening the wet cloth that was inside the package and before he brings it to your wound, he raises a finger lightly over your shoulder.
“Just... gunna move this out f’ the way” his voice velvet as he softly shifts your tank strap away from your wound to the edge of your shoulder, enough for it to fall down your arm on its own. The motion of it all raising a shiver up your tailbone. You then see his eyes grow heavy, his tongue dipping out to wet his bottom lip.
The touch of his calloused fingers against your skin, the way the strap falls from his grasp, how his eyes briefly drop to your chest before seeing the red blotches form across his neck, all these things have your buds growing hard against the fabric of your shirt.
You groan when he removes the old gauze and finally applies the alcohol-soaked cloth against your cut. The sting somehow adding to your arousal. You can’t help but let a small pornographic moan slip from your lips resulting in a hiss from Joel.
“Jesus” He mutters, more to himself than you. His other hand palms his crotch to briefly adjust the growing hard on beneath the zipper. He thought he was subtle in the dark, but you still saw, and it drove you wild.
His touch shocks you as his hand gently grips your neck, holding you still as he dabs your sore some more. You see the wrinkles forming on his forehead as he bends down, leaning in close to inspect the cut further. You could roll your eyes in pure ecstasy just from the way he has you in his grasp. The way his head is ducked down beneath yours, so closely to your chest, you can nearly feel his hot breath kissing your nipples.
You feel your dignity slipping away. You want nothing more than to submit to him, let him take what he wants. You’ve seen the signs, surely, he’s thought about it too.
His big thumb lightly caresses your sensitive skin as he focuses on wiping up the rest of the smeared mess that stained your collar bone. In between his shuffling, you spread your legs open some more, hoping he’ll come closer.
You peer down, watching his eyes flicker to yours, a warning resides within them. He knows what you’re doing, and he isn’t going to take bait. He’s in trouble enough as it is. You bite down on your lip, trying to suppress the guttural want inside you. But your mouth falls agape when his glare falls back to your neck, tracing slowly back to your wound before looking down lower to your breasts poking through your thin shirt. He inhales deeply through his nose, his eyes closing as if he’s praying for restraint. You hope none delivers.
In one motion, he regathers himself in such a Joel manner, you know he’s done playing. He tosses the crimson-stained wet fabric back into the red bag, zipping it up in such aggression you thought it might just break.
“Just keep it covered, should heal fine,” He orders, not once looking your way.
“Joel” you mewl to him, your hands having a mind of their own as they reach for his jacket.
“No” he says bluntly, his eyes on the med kit. He’s trying to be cold, but you can hear the quiver that laces his voice.
He tosses the bag further into the trunk, he jaws clenching so hard you think his teeth might shatter.
“Joel” you cry again softly, biting your lip. Your arousal is becoming unbearable, downright painful. At this point, you can care less about how pathetic you sound. You just need relief, but this time from him.
“I said no,” He growls, “It’s bedtime.”
Joel then, in one movement reaches one arm under yours, supporting your back and the other hand gripping your waist.
You clutch the collar of his jacket, panting feverishly, your heart racing from his touch. His head had leaned down close enough, you thought he might just kiss you.
But then you realize what's really happening as he picks you up off the tailgate and plants you on your feet to the ground. You don’t miss the way his hand lingers before letting you go.
“I’ve got first watch, get into your sleepin’ bag,” He commands as he picks up his rifle, slinging it over his shoulder.
“I’m not tired” you whine, desperation seeping out of your pores.
“M’ don’t care, we have a long day tomorrow n’ you need rest, so get rested.” His voice is strained as his teeth grit at the end of his sentence. He putters around, putting the lantern next to your bag, closing the lid to the barbeque, not once looking in your direction.
And you know why. He’s trying to hide his desire from you, the evidence sticking out in his jeans. Trying to distract himself from the utter temptation that hangs in the air. Trying to be the good guy that is strictly business and most days his virtuous behavior warms you, but tonight it’s pissing you right off.
“I can’t sleep like this Joel, I, I- I’m uncomfortable” you whimper, your arms at your side as you admit defeat.
“That’s enough” he spits your name “M’ not saying it again.”
Your perk up when he turns, striding towards you but it’s quickly followed by a groan when he passes you to go to the truck. He grabs your sweater, before slamming up the tailgate with force. The sexual frustration radiant in his demeanor.
You watch him come closer; his knuckles white from gripping the fabric of your top. Your breath catches when you meet his eyes, his glare so intense you think you might become a meal, you hope you will.
He raises his fist to your chest; you look down at the blue material.
“Put this on, it’ll protect your wound. I’m checking the perimeters then I’ll be back” he says lowly, peering down at you without tilting his head. When he does this, it makes you feel incredibly small, more than you normally feel around him. Which you like. You frown at his back as he strides away, towards the trees.
“Joel, please” you whine again. “I – I need – “ Tears begin pricking at your eyes, you’ve never felt this needy in your life, and all you want is Joel. He’s the only one that can help.
He stands still, before turning his head to the side, his knee popping out in his stance. He stays that way for a moment before you hear him sigh loudly. He turns to face you, hand gripping his jaw as his eyes scans your figure, weeping in front of him.
“Sweetheart, I know what you need,” His nickname shocks and spurs you on all at the same time.
“Do what you need to do, I’m goin’ to do rounds, I’ll be back when you’re done okay?” His tone shifts from frustrated to understanding, his face somber but riddled with want. You glance down at his jeans, his bulge sticking out so loudly. You feel yourself start salivating.
“Can’t you do it Joel?” You mewl “Help me feel better?”
This time he groans, one so low and gravelly you think you might cum right there.
“Baby girl I can’t” his palm rests on his forehead before he runs his thick fingers through his salt and pepper locks.
“You know I can’t” His voice is getting rougher in between his pants. “I need you to crawl into bed and touch yourself, okay? I know you can do it” He points his index at your sleeping bag and with a sigh he walks off before you can say anything else.
And just like that he disappears into the darkness. You know he won’t stray far, but enough to grant you privacy. You groan to yourself, hoping it wasn’t going to end like this, but it is progress. You had touched yourself before, but always in secret. In worry Joel might get upset or confused, or worse - mad as to why you would need to relieve yourself around him. You always feared he’d find you weak or pathetic if he caught you, so you always waited until he was on patrol in the dark, or settled in his own room in whatever housing the two of you would find.
The fact that Joel now knows, and understands, and is urging you to, is incredibly sexy.
You grab the slippery material and bring it over, near to his that lay empty. You slid yourself in and with shaky hands, undo the buttons and zipper to your confining jeans before snaking your hand down to your soaked cotton panties. You sigh at the touch, savoring in the instant relief that comes with it.
With slow, messy circles, you rub the outside of your panties against your core as you think about Joel's strong hands lifting you off the tailgate. The way his chest was pressed against your breasts, the way his hands lingered on you. Your breathing quickens as you start rubbing circles harder and quicker, cupping your swollen clit. More tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes when you begin to think this isn’t going to work. Not when you know he’s around. Not when he’s the very reason you’re dripping down your thighs in the first place. Not when you need him.
In an act of desperation, you kick off your sneakers, toss them on the grass with two thuds and strip your jeans completely off. Your cocoon becomes so humid with the heat from your arousal that you end up crawling out of it before bunching it up enough to straddle the material, grinding against it. You whine as the friction brings more relief than your fingers as you start humping your sleep bag. The cool breeze against your dewy skin feels like a kiss from mother nature herself. You feel yourself grow closer to your climax as you begin to furiously hump more, your knees against the earth, your thighs spread wide. You know how ridiculous you must look, but you couldn’t give a shit. You need relief in order to have some clarity again.
Then you hear it. The unmistakable clink of his belt buckle coming undone. The teeth of his zipper groaning apart before he lowers his jeans. You listen as you slow your pace, riding the edge of your summit, teasing yourself. You hear him spit into the palm of his hand before you imagine him gripping his length. When he finally groans, you know he’s fisting himself.
You smirk and decide to have fun with this. As you stop your pace all together, you peel off your blue sweater once again, leaving you in the same white revealing tank top. You know he’s somewhere in the darkness behind you, but you aren’t sure if he knows you know, yet.
You hike your panties up higher, the band hugging your hips and exposing more of your plush cheeks spilling out from the cotton material. You hear him grunt again.
As you start grinding slowly, you snake one hand up to your chest and pinch your bud, rolling it between your two fingers, eliciting a moan from you.
“Fuck”
He’s getting louder, still muttering to himself as he watches you from behind a cedar tree. With his rifle still slung on his shoulder, he fists his cock, his other hand wide against the trunk to brace himself.
His eyes have gotten adjusted to the darkness, so when he returned quietly to the base you guys share, he saw you touching yourself in your sleeping bag underneath the moonlight.
He had debated on rubbing one out while checking the perimeters, but his mind wouldn’t let him. He knew he had to come back to you. He knew you would be relieving yourself like the good girl you are because you always listen to him, always do what you’re told.
But when he saw the frantic and frustrated way you slipped your pants off and bunched your bag to start humping, he knew he needed to watch. He needed to see the way you make yourself cum. 
“Joel” You moan out as you continue your pace, your hips bouncing as you hump.
He groans again, his southern drawl slipping out like honey “Oh…  fuck yeah baby girl, that’s it” You could hear his fist becoming more frantic against himself.
You decide to put on a show, grinding your hips in the most sensual way. Your pants getting breathier, your whines higher.
Joel was in a trance; he was fixated on you. Watching your every move, stroking himself to your pace. The view of your ass, the way your shirt slightly rises revealing the beautiful curve of your back, your hair swaying with your hips, you’re like a goddess in the woods. All he could picture was laying beneath you, letting you grind yourself on his mouth, tasting your juices, making you cum all over his face.
God, he wants you. He wants to show you he can be more than just your protector. He can help you, treat you so well, but he knows it would be so wrong. To some degree he’s taking advantage of you. You don’t know any better, not when you’re overwhelmed with all these kinds of needs. Hell, he’s overwhelmed himself but he’s also a lot older than you. He knows how to suppress it, how to will the feelings away and concentrate. But you, you’re not experienced. You need to make yourself cum in order to feel sane again. Once you’re this far deep into lust, it’s primal. It’s a need, not a want. He can’t blame you for caving into your desires yet him on the other hand, he’ll be held accountable by the devil himself.
But if there was ever a time where Joel was losing control with the fine line between right and wrong, it was now.
He continues his strokes, obsessing over how naughty you really are. He’s never seen you like this before. “C’mon baby, you can do it” He whispers.
You couldn’t stop yourself from what happened next.
“Joel?” You call out softly. All sounds cease.
“Yea?” He finally responds, after a long, quiet pause.
“Please” You beg “Please I need you.”
You curse yourself as you hear him zipping himself back up, suddenly feeling embarrassed as you’re still sitting in the state you are. 
You peek over your shoulder to see him approaching you, buckling his belt. His jaw ticking as he stares at your ass. His bulge seems to be growing bigger.
You prepare for the worst. For him to cuss you out or tell you that you missed your chance. Had you left it alone, the two of you would have finished and he would have returned a little later to make it seem as if he wasn’t there at all.
But you just couldn’t do that, could you?
“Get in the truck”. He growls, his boots drowning in the material of your sleeping bag. You look up at him, to him looking down at you. You couldn’t make out his face as the light of the moon is directly behind him.
“W-Why... a a-are we leaving?” You whisper, suddenly afraid you royally fucked up.
“Are you talkin’ back to me?” His voice is sharp. Deep. Serious. Unreadable.
You shook your head as submission rolls over you effortlessly. He hikes his jeans by pinching the denim near his crotch before squatting down to your level. His breath right next to your ear. You stare forward into the darkness as goosebumps rise all over your skin. You feel so vulnerable with Joel right behind you but just as excited. You flinch as soon as he speaks.
“If you want my help, then do what I say” he says in a low rumble. You pause, holding your breath.
“Think you can manage that?” He questions, his tone unrecognizable as he turns his head to inhale the scent of your hair. You shiver, nodding once more. Your heart rate picks up speed, thudding loudly.
“Then, get up and get in the truck.” He orders you slowly. Almost as if he’s trying to stop the words from coming out.
Your eyes widen at his demand, a jolt of electricity soaring through your chest straight to your abdomen. With a careful shuffle, you stand on your feet and start towards the truck.
In any other scenario, this feeling would make you shrink. It’s the way you can feel his eyes on you, the thud of his boots echoing behind your naked ones in the grass. But you love every second of it. You feel your confidence flourishing as you realize he needs this just as much as you do. If not more. You begin to walk straighter, hips swaying wider, a pep in your step as you feel the power shift ever so slightly into your control.
“Someone’s gettin’ cocky” Joel states behind you. His palm gripping his crotch as he watches you.
“I sure hope I get some” You grin to yourself, feeling proud at your remark.
Joel stops in his steps; he can’t believe your dirty mouth. Sure, you’ve been foul around him before, but never sexually and the very fact ignites something dark within him. He proceeds forward, eyeing you down as you wait near the truck with that shit-eating grin on your face.
She’s in for it now.
 “You think you’re funny?” He questions while approaching you. His large frame nearly swallowing you whole.
“Uh huh and I think you love it” You retort in your most sultry tone. The words hit him like a freight train, his cock bobbing in his jeans.
With a tut he leans into you “So ya’ think y’can toy with me?”
You can’t repress it, you’re beaming. You like the way Joel challenges you.
“I think it’d be better if I was yours, Miller” You reach out to grip his cock through his jeans.
He separates instantly, his face loss of all expression. The muscle in his jaw flexes as his eyes lock on yours.
“I think your attitude needs fucking fixin’” Your jaw drops at his profanity. Joel never speaks like this.
“You say that name one more time and so god help me,” He scowls “acting like a fuckin’ brat, tryin’ to rile me up” His eyes now black.
“Think that’ll end well f’ ya?” He questions, one brow raised.
You swallow, unsure if you took it too far.
“Well, you’re lucky, cus’ I enjoy turning brats into good girls... s’ you ready to learn some manners?” He mocks as he grips your mouth, which was still gaping.
“Start with closing that up until I say so, s’not lady like.” He pushes your chin up, your jaw closes with a click of your teeth. 
You scoff in disbelief, pulling your chin out of his hand yet you’re incredibly turned on. You watch him in curiosity as he opens the passenger door for you, his face now as hard as his cock. You wait, wanting to test his patience just a little.
You see his chest heave; his teeth grind together before he grips the door harder.
“Guess there won’t be any lessons tonight after all...real shame too, was gunna make that pretty pussy cream all over me” He shrugs, about to close the door.
“No! I’m sorry Joel, I’m going!” You jump into the seat with such speed it makes Joel smirk, but his jaw goes slack the second he sees the wet spot that had formed on your cotton panties as you crawl in.
He groans at the sight. But if he was going to stay true to his vows, you’d have to keep your panties on or else he may damn himself beyond saving. He only has so much self control.
You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you watch him slowly stride his way to the other side of the truck. Your breath quickens as his door swings open; your fingers shake with sheer excitement.
He starts unzipping his camel-colored jacket before shuffling in. With a toss, his jacket lands in the back seat as he closes the door with a thud.
You listen to him groan softly as he settles into the seat, before reaching down between his legs to pull on the bar to slide the chair back as far as it can go. You find yourself already scrambling onto your knees.
“Needy girl” he tuts “already so excited f’ me”. He locks eyes with you, a mischievous smile grows across his face as he takes his time positioning his legs.
He then reaches to the side of the seat to lean the backrest down, but not too far. This allows him to manspread while he rests his aching broad back at the same time.
With a deep inhale through his nostrils, he looks at you with now hooded eyes.
“Need you to listen closely now” His raises one index in the air. “I’m gunna help you alright?”
You whimper a “Mhm!”
“But there are rules. Rules you need to follow.” You roll your eyes at his comment, which is returned with a scowl across his face. You mouth a brief ‘sorry’ before motioning him to continue, your desires reaching a boiling point.
“You’re not takin’ anything off and you’re not touchin’ me anywhere unless I allow it” He glares sternly.
“Yes, okay Joel” you usher, wanting to be in his touch before he changes his mind.
 “Shouldn’t even be doing this, but I understand you’re having a hard time. Fuck, the state of our lives I can’t imagine the stress you feel, especially when you’re so young”. You squeeze your thighs, clenching around nothing as you wish he would get off the foreseeable guilt train.
“So that’s why I’m going to help you, understand?”
You nod furiously.
“Repeat it” He spits.
“I understand” You reply obediently.
With a quiet pause, Joel scans your features, his eyes trailing your desperate figure.
“C’mere” He pats his thigh with his large, calloused hand.
You obey, slowly crawling over to straddle his lap.
“Mmm” His chest rumbles. “She does listen”.  
His eyes are closed as you position yourself over one thick denim covered thigh, your right knee brushing up against his crotch. He hisses at the touch, letting his head fall back into the headrest.
You raise your hands to rest at the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling sheepish as you’re not sure exactly what to do. You bite your lip, too nervous to start. You realize just how exposed you feel when you're up to him this closely.
He opens his eyes to meet yours, sighing at how beautiful you look when you’re aching but more so at the fact that you’re visually embarrassed, and he loves it.
“C’mon, don’t get shy on me now. You were acting all brave just minutes ago.” He coos.
You blush at his words, starting to feel silly. But you need him to encourage you. You like it.
He swiftly smacks your ass and bounces his knee once – motioning you to get going.
“Joel” You whisper at the infliction, lowering your head to rest in his neck, repositioning yourself against him, closer. Just the contact of your hot core on him, makes your arousal pain even more. And the way he smells, you tuck your nose further in, inhaling the scent of his earthy musk, is intoxicating.
“C’mon baby girl. You can do it, I got you” He finally raises his hands from his sides to grip your hips as his own roll up into you, you follow once with yours. “You need to cum, so you can sleep tonight, trust me I know”. You begin to slowly roll your hips, falling right back into the state of pleasure.
“J-just like that sweetheart, keep going”. His voice becomes raspy.
You hang off his words as you start grinding, moaning at his fingertips digging deeper into your soft skin. Your buds harden at the friction of your wet clothed cunt being rubbed against his jeans. You can’t believe this, the fact that Joel himself is sat beneath you, cooing you to finish yourself off on him.
Your pants become whines as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten with each hump against him.
“That’s it, good girl. You’re gunna make a mess on me aren't ya?” He growls as he stares at your lips. Your cheeks burn at his comment. The embarrassment seeping back into you. You can hardly look at him.
“You keep those eyes on me sweetheart”. He orders, one hand pinching your chin, forcing you to see him, you still look anywhere but.
He can read you like an open book. He see’s right through you. Hell, most of the time he can predict the things you’ll say. He knows you just need some encouragement, some reassurance that it’s okay to be nervous but that you can trust him.
He ceases, waiting for those wide doe eyes to meet his and when they do, he can’t help but grin.
“Why?” You begin to question.
“Tell me you want this” he whispers, the words hang in the silence.
“I want this.” You grip the back of his neck tighter. “I just feel… dumb. I’m not sure how to do this”. You mumble.
“Sure y’ do” his words surprise you and when you look at him, the confusion is clear on your face.
“I just watched you do it when you were all by yourself, humping your bag, tryin’ to make that ache go away” He murmurs as one of his hands brush a stray hair behind your ear. You shudder at the touch.
“That’s all you have to do with me sweetheart, just use my thigh and make yourself feel good”. He urges you as he begins motioning your hips once more, you watch his face as you take over, following the sensation as it builds again.
“There y’ go, nothing to be shy ‘bout pretty girl, y’ just need my help ain’t that right?”
You bob your head yes as your pace begins to quicken.
“That’s my sweet girl, take what you need, s’ just the two of us” He coos as he helps you continue grinding.
You throw your head back at his praise, which Joel saw as his opportunity to fist your hair and hold you bare for him as he trails your neck with wet kisses. A risky move, but he tells himself it’s only to help you. And fuck does it ever spur you on.
His teeth graze against your sensitive flesh and your grinding becomes rougher, more desperate. Your whines turn to moans as you feel your cunt drip through the fabric, your climax just strokes away.
“Stop” He orders, and you do.
 Did you do something wrong?
He releases your hair slowly, inhaling deeply through his nose, his jaw ticking once more. He looks down at his lap, admiring your white panties.
“Slide back” He mumbles as he pushes your hips. “I need t’ see”.  You ease back, your mind drunk off his sudden dominance.
With a moan, he stares at your clothed pussy, admiring the wet slick between your folds. Your pussy lips so swollen, he could see it throb. He breaks away looking up, closing his eyes as if he’s trying to compose himself. Not a second later, he looks back at you again, back to your pooling core, his jaw goes slack as you already seem wetter, your damp stain somehow bigger.
“Look at that.” He gently inches your thighs apart with his massive hands, causing you to throb more.
“You see what you’re doin’ pretty girl?” His southern drawl spurs on another wave of ecstasy to rush through you as you watch his reaction.
He fists your hair once more, turning your head down to face his lap, you yelp in surprise but not because it hurts.
“Look”. He roughly pulls your head in place to view the dark, wet spot you’re making on his jeans.
“Have you been walkin’ around all wet in your panties this whole time?” he cranes his neck to meet your gaze as you look at the mess you’ve caused, mouth agape. His face hardens when he sees yours.
“What I’d fuckin’ say about hanging your mouth open like a whore?” he growls as he squeezes your chin and cheeks with his free hand. 
He holds you like that for a beat, one hand twisted in your hair, the other gripping your face restraining you from any movement. You gasp loudly when your cheeks are released from his tight hold, yet your hair is still intertwined in his fist as he forces you to look at your arousal again.
“That tight pussy droolin’ for me?” He questions sharply.
You finally murmur a yes while clenching your mouth shut as you blink slowly, drunk off being edged for so long.
“Yeah, I thought so” he says raggedly as if he’s been waiting for that very response. He lets you free as you lean back wanting to display yourself more. He sighs contentedly at the sight.
It’s become clear to you why Joel was so adamant about staying away. He’s primal in nature, but you had no idea he was this feral in lust. You smirk as you feel you’ve uncovered his dirty secret, his hidden persona. It makes you wonder how long he’s wanted you like this. If he was afraid of you seeing this side of him. And for some reason, that only makes you want him that much more.  
“Touch yourself for me, just a little rub.” He rests further back against the seat, watching you and those dirty gears running at an all time high.
You comply, running your hand down his chest as you snake your fingers against the white wet cotton, rubbing slow circles over your clit, moaning at the sensation. 
“Good girl” He praises. You can feel your wetness pooling through your panties as you continue rubbing yourself, your orgasm dangerously close. Your mouth drops again forming an “O” which elicits another groan from Joel as he watches you. “Yea, that’s the only time you’re allowed to look like that” He growls.
“I’m – I’m close Joel” You pant as he stares you down.
“That’s enough” You whine when he grabs your hand away from your core, bringing your fingers up to his face.
“Yea, I fuckin’ knew it” He groans, inhaling your fingers deeply, eyes closed. “I know you’re dripping in your little panties when I smell this scent off you” He smears your fingers roughly around his mouth and nose, still breathing you in. You watch in awe, the way he’s completely consumed by you.
“Hard t’ focus when you’re parading that little ass around me, reeking like this, just beggin’ to be filled up, you rub yourself like this around me at night?” He asks, voice hoarse.
Your cheeks burn again, but you nod once anyhow.
“My dirty, dirty girl. You’re just full of secrets, aren't yah”. He pants. “Fuckin’ knew you were wanting my cock. You just needed someone to make that ache go away, huh?”
You whine as you nod more, feeling so heard, so seen. “Yes Joel, yes” All you want is to feel him fill you up. Hit that spot that you can’t ever reach. You succumb to him, hoping he might just fuck you and you won’t have to get off like this. You want all of him. To discover more of who Joel is. Help him, just like he’s helping you.
“And you’re still treating me so good, listenin’ to what I say, even when I’ve been neglecting my poor baby” He drawls lazily as he pulls you back into place, and with another bounce of his knee, you resume your vicious pace chasing your orgasm. The way your perky breasts jiggle in your tank causing him to bounce his knee more, absorbing the view of you bobbing up and down with tears welling in your eyes.
You reach one hand down, to grip his hard on, wanting to feel his thickness again, hoping he might let you see it.
“No.” His hand wraps around your wrist in an instance. A grip so cruel, you swear there’ll be bruises when he lets go.
“Why not?” You cry, your hips still rolling.
“Boundaries, sweetheart. You can’t touch me there.” He smirks devilishly. He knows this is torture for you.
You whimper, your eyes falling to his lips. You want to make contact with those the most.
“Knock it off. I see the way you’re starin’. You’re not kissin’ me either.” His smile is now gone, yet his eyes sparkle. You swear he’s getting off by restricting your contact with him. He knows how badly you want it.
You rest your hands tightly around his neck again, the disappointment visible on your features.
“Don’t look at me like that, fuck, you have no idea what you do to me”.
You pout more, relishing in the way he’s weakening for you. 
“Tell you what” he drawls, slowing your pace. His fingers at some point had slipped into the band of your panties as he held your hips.
“Because you’ve been such a good girl f’me , I’ll let you kiss here” He raises an index to his scruffy cheek “And here” as he points to the other side.
You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you lean forward gently, placing a soft, agonizingly slow, peck to cheek, your nose brushing lightly against his skin. You test his limits as you get close to his lips as you make your way to the other side. You swear you feel him inch forward ever so slightly before falling back.
“God, you’re just a sweet lil thang aren’t yah” he groans at your light, edging touches. 
You pull back, feeling powerful at just how wrecked he looks. You bite your lower lip, continuing slow rolls.
You decide to do it again.
“Oh fuck, baby that’s enough” He moans as you place yet another teasingly slow kiss to his cheek, but close to the edge of his lips. He pulls his face away, turning to the side. He’s completely fucked out. His eyes heavy with pure want. God and this is just from kissing him.
Then something snaps in him as he grips your ass and makes you rub on him harder and lets your knee make more contact with his bulge.
“Yeah – yeah that feels really good” You mewl.
He turns his face back to yours, staring you down. His grip is getting harder, almost painful but you don’t care.
“Keep going” He rasps. “Don’t stop, I know you’re close.”
“Uh huh” You moan “You’re gunna make me cum Da- J- Joel” Your eyes widen at the fact you almost slipped, but it doesn’t go unnoticed.
His eyes go dark as he clutches your ass tighter, leaning his face into yours.
“What was that sweetheart?” He whispers with his teeth grit, his nose grazing the side of your cheek.
You whine as he helps you continue your pace, pushing you back and forth on his thigh.
His hand snakes up, gripping your cheeks between his thumb and index. “You fuckin’ answer me when ‘m talking to you” He spits lowly.
“It feels really good!” You squeal as he starts to slow your rhythm.
“What else?”
Your hooded eyes connect with his, your cheeky grin making his cock twitch more.
“Tell me” He orders.
You pull yourself into his neck before whimpering into his ear.
“It feels good … Daddy”.
His groan is guttural as he squeezes your ass cheeks together.
“My dirty girl, you need your Daddy to help you huh?” He pulls you closer, your knee making full contact against his throbbing cock.
You nod your head furiously as your brows knit, you know you’re about to cum.
“Tell me why I’m your Daddy” he orders, his brows rising and falling.
You start to babble “Because you protect me” you barely get the words out, you’re so wrecked.
“I do, don’t I?” His voice drops an octave, while analyzing your face.
“And you’d kill for me” you moan.
“I have,” He pulls you down hard into him and holds you there, while grinding his crotch into you. “Killed for you”.
His eyes scour you frantically. Like there is so much he wants to do with you. Endless thoughts running through his mind of all the ways he could ruin you.
“Take your fuckin’ shirt off” he says rushed, as if this moment could get ripped away from him.
You obey, reaching the hem, and pulling it off in one swift motion. You toss it behind you onto the dash.
“That’s right” He spanks your ass hard.
“Go” He grits, and you grind down, your tits bouncing just inches from his face. He moves his hands off you and puts them down at his sides. As if to physically restrain himself from touching you.
“Fucking perfect, like a god damn picture” he watches your breasts as you’re nearing your climax again.
“M’ can’t let anyone hurt my special girl.” His expression turns hard as he feels his possessive side creep up. The men he murdered this morning were an exact representation of what he’ll do for you. Without question. He knew he was going to feel the blade sink in their flesh the second one laid eyes on you, the intention loud in his irises.
“I never wanna be apart from you Joel, you make me feel safe” Your confession comes out before you can stop it.
“I know baby, I know but fuck I love to hear it” He could listen to your sweet voice all day.  
“Take your pants off, please” You beg but it sounds more like a squeal.
“No” He barely whispers.
“Please, Daddy please please, I wanna cum on you, it hurts!” You cry.
“Jesus Christ” His hands go to his belt, anxiously unbuckling, as you continue to mewl hovering above him.
“Always so fuckin’ needy” He pulls his jeans down his thighs before grabbing you and pulling you down aggressively onto him, his boxers the only thing confining his cock. "That's all you get" He spits.
“Wait” You reposition yourself, now straddling his lap. One knee on either side of his hips as you grind your wet, hot clothed cunt onto his massive, throbbing cock.
The moan that comes out of you is straight pornographic.
You suddenly lurch forward, before realizing he reclined the seat back further, almost laying flat.
“Put those fuckin’ tits on my face baby” He commands desperately.
You place your knees higher up on the cushioned seat. You pull yourself upwards to smother his face with your breasts. Joel's rough hands are still by his sides, he knows he’ll lose all sense of control if he gets any closer. No, it has to be your move.
“Yeah, Yeah, Joel please” You moan as he begins to softly kiss your breasts.
 “You need more baby?” He gasps, his voice strained with want.
“Tell Daddy y’ need more, you need more help, I have to help” He consoles himself as he begins to suckle your buds, licking long strips wherever he can. It’s animalistic. You run your fingers through his salt and pepper locks as you essentially motorboat his face.
“You’re my special girl” He spills in a drawl. “Never gunna let anyone touch you.”
You can’t wait any longer, you sit back down on his bulge, wishing it was freed to split you in half but this will have to do. So, you grind, hunting your orgasm down once again, absorbing, engraining this picture of Joel in your mind forever.
And fuck, the way he talks to you, you’re lost in a trance, chasing after your high as you stare into his face. His eyes, his smile lines, the scar across his bridge, the way he looks down at his lap as he watches you, his jaw going slack. He’s perfect.
“Fuck I can smell you baby girl, your sweet pussy is beggin’ to come all over me” He growls “C’mon give it to me”. You take his permission and allow yourself to play on that teetering edge, right on the cusp of your much awaited orgasm.
“S’ okay baby girl, I got you, I got you”. He slumps back further, eyes trained on your clothed pussy grinding on his hard on with such desperation. He feels his own coming on as you rub against him.
 “Not such a brat now huh? Not when I’m taking care of you” he says as his tired eyes scan your figure. You cry out at his words.
“You’re okay, you’re okay, S’ gunna feel better baby, gunna make that ache go away” He drawls out. 
“Fuck, fuck” He mumbles, his eyes so hooded, you could have thought they were closed. All color drains from his face as he continues watching your motions. He can see wet, shiny strings appear from your panties, catching onto his boxers before they break apart from sliding back and forth. He can feel how absolutely soaked you are, that spot seeping through the fabric onto his skin underneath.
“That’s it pretty girl, right on daddy’s cock, right there”. His words fall out.
“I’m cum-I’m cumm-Daddy- oh yeah, Joel, Joel!” You scream.
You squeal as your orgasm comes rippling through, your thighs tightening around him as he feels your cunt pool through your panties all over him, your mouth hangs open as you ride out the waves of sensation.
“Jesus Christ”. He groans at the sight of you.
You rest your head against his heaving chest, riding out the stars that clouded your head.
The two of you sit there for a moment, collecting your breaths before he nudges you to the side.
“Wait here” he mumbles, exiting the truck. You watch him through the rear window, straining your eyes to see him in the dark. You think you see him readjusting his crotch again before he leans down, grabbing both sleeping bags and the lantern.
You’re still dizzy from finishing on Joel's lap, your mind trying to comprehend what had just happened. You never thought you’d see the day where Joel would touch you or look at you in any way other than ‘Cargo’.
The breeze from outside whirls into the truck as you sit there waiting for him. He opens the back door, laying down the sleeping bags on top of one another across the bench.
“What’re you doing?” You murmur, cupping the back seat with your hands, watching him with sleepy eyes.
“Don’t want you sleepin' outside tonight” He responds, glancing at your tired gaze.
“C’mon” He waves you over. You scootch over to the driver seat and let your legs dangle out the door. He meets you there, one of his massive hands held out to grab yours, helping you to your feet and pulling you in front of him, guiding you to the back door. You let go of his touch to crawl to your revised sleeping quarters.
You slip in between the two bags, which Joel had unzipped. Laying one down, the other as a blanket on top. He also folded up his jacket as a pillow, which made you smile. You watch him tuck the fabric under your feet, making sure all parts of you are covered. He finds your jeans and your shirt and puts them aside for when you’d dress in the morning. Your sneakers on the ground beside the truck.
You can’t stop the warm glow growing inside you as you watch this man take care of you in such a way that seems so… domestic. It makes you wonder about him pre break out, and what he was like living in a house, working an 8-5 job, making dinners and probably having cold ones in the evening on a patio.
He closes the driver door before returning to you.
“Are you coming to bed?” You whisper with heavy eyes.
“No” he chuckles lightly “M’ wide awake now, gunna keep watch, we really do have a long day tomorrow so get some sleep alright?” He looks at you as one of his arms draped over the heavy truck door, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. He looks proud, which you would roll your eyes at, but you’re far too tired.
“Joel” You whisper, bringing his attention back to you as he was looking over his shoulder, scanning the night.
“Mhm?”
“I still wanna repay the favor y’know” you mumble, your eyes closed, already drifting off.
He chuckles again; the sound brings a grin to your face.
“Not necessary, couldn’t stop myself from cumin' while watching you”. He sighs heavily, muttering to himself “like a goddamn teenager”.
You giggle at the comment. Which Joel couldn’t help but grin too, you didn’t see though.
“Goodnight Miller” You barely hear the words yourself as you fall into a deep slumber.
“Night sweetheart”.
900 notes · View notes
kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months
Note
monster reader with bennett? he's on an adventure, but he gets a bit more "excitement" than he initially anticipated. i hope this works with the horror/halloween requests!
Beware the Big Bad Wolf
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Pairings: Bennett x reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, wolfboy!reader, sub/bottom!Bennett, dubcon, scratching, biting, breeding, reader is called 'sir', more virgin Bennett
Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot
Author's Note: As usual, Bennett is 20+ here! I went with a wolfboy reader because I had a lovely idea for this, I hope that's ok, anon!!
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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Bennett was on his way to Wolvendom for a commission, and a dangerous one at that. The Adventure's Guild posted a commission to investigate the outskirts of Wolvendom as there have been multiple disappearances lately. Several members of the guild had gone missing after attempting to trek through the forest as a shortcut. Remnants of shredded camping gear and clothing, shattered swords, broken weapons, food scraps, and traces of blood had cropped up in and around the famed area, causing quite a bit of panic to circulate within Monstadt
Ever the brave one, Bennett accepted the commission and pulled together a few other adventures to help him. But, as his luck usually plays out, all of them had something important come up at the last minute and they couldn't make it, leaving Bennett to take this on alone
So off he went, marching swiftly into the dark forest, home to many wolves and other woodland creatures. A single bead of sweat rolled down his cheek as the young man's trembling hands held the map that the guild had given to him, littered with markings and notes locating the pieces of evidence and routes that the adventurers had most likely taken
Staying past sunset was definitely not Bennett's plan, but he had been so focused on following trails that he lost track of the time. It was far too dark to navigate these woods alone and he did manage to pack camping gear...so making a fire and taking shelter was probably the smartest idea right now, despite the supposed danger lurking about. Bennett did the best he could do with the food packed for this journey, feeling content with dinner and quickly growing tired from the day's endeavors
A distant howling startled the poor boy, already a bit on edge due to the nature of his investigation. He wrapped his coat around his arms a little tighter, shivering from the cold night air. Another howl off to his right, still relatively far away, or at least that's what he assumed based on the low volume. Wolvendom was a beautiful forest, but it could become rather spooky at night. Especially to lonely adventurers
Lonely adventurers who had let their guard down, sitting with their back turned towards you...no weapons in sight, seemingly nodding off under the moonlight.... They were the perfect prey
“Aah- Mmph!” Bennett started to scream when a strong arm wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms against his body so that he couldn't fight back. A clawed hand swiftly muffled any sounds threatening to escape, preventing the struggling man from calling for help, not that anyone would come to the rescue though
“You humans are awfully persistent, aren't you?” you began, “How many of your kind have been killed and yet you still send more weaklings out here to their grave?” you scoffed, shaking your head at their sheer stupidity
“I mean, really...every few days I'm forced to tear another one apart because none of you will stay the fuck away from my territory.” A snarl punctuated your last words, your teeth nipping at the human's ear in the process. Bennett whimpered into your palm, on the verge of tears as you growled at him while he weakly struggled to break free. His efforts proved to be futile as your muscular arms kept him in place, pressed back against your chest while you tipped his head back further, exposing his throat and grazing your fangs against the skin
“Are you gonna be a good victim for me and keep your fucking mouth shut while I gut you?” You said, tossing the human onto the ground and hovering over his smaller frame, raising a clawed hand up as you were about to slash at him when he stammered out in fear, “Wait!! Waitwaitwaitplease– Please don't kill me!”
His shaky hands pressed against your chest in an attempt to hold you back, though you both knew it wouldn't work. “Please... C-can't we talk about th-is?” Bennett hiccuped, his body beginning to tremble more and more with every passing second. You contemplated his proposal for a minute, checking out his body in the meantime. He was an exceptionally beautiful human. While he was smaller than you his arms were rather toned, he also had the prettiest green eyes and fluffy white hair that was just begging you to pet it. Plus his scent was nice...like pine trees and campfire smoke with a little sweetness mixed in
A toothy grin made its way onto your face as you said, “Alright, then talk. Give me a good reason not to kill you.” The little purr in your voice sent a shiver crawling up the human's spine, gulping as he stuttered out nonsense in an attempt to come up with something that would convince you to spare him
Slowly, your hand creeped upwards until it encompassed the little human's throat, his weak grip finding its way to your wrist as his stammering grew quieter. “Ya know, it would be a shame to waste a pretty face like yours. Since you're having trouble convincing me of your worth, allow me to offer you a choice instead.”
Your breath fell on Bennett's cheek as you leaned in close and continued, “You will either become my mate and give your body over to me, or you become my dinner. What's it going to be, human?” Bennett's mind raced as your proposal swirled around in his head. M-mate?! What kind of mate?! I don't exactly trust this guy but...I d-don't have much of a choice here...
“O-ok...I'll be your...um, your mate...” The human said with uncertainty, gulping at the fanged smile growing on your face as you licked your lips. Immediately getting flipped onto his stomach and roughly held down by your hand on his spine. A strange pressure was now present on his bottom, it didn't hurt it just felt... weird. New, like nothing he has ever experienced before
“Gooood. Good boy. Mm, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in.” You growled above the man, grinding your hard-on in between his plump cheeks. Precum had already begun to spill inside of your pants from the excitement of finding a new mate after so long, and the way the bare member brushed against the fabric of your pants only caused more to leak out. Your cock ached to fill and knot someone's wet holes again, breeding them full of your pups night after night until they couldn't even walk. Scenting them so that no other would dare to touch them, unless the idiot wanted a painful death, that is
“Hah! Ow ow ow...too much...” Bennett whined. Your wandering thoughts caused you to claw into the poor thing's back tightly, cutting his skin in the process and spilling a bit of blood. Whoops. Attempting to apologize to your new mate, you leaned down and lapped at the new scratches, cleaning the blood off before kissing his back. This seemed to ease him a tiny bit as his fists unclenched slightly, exhaling a shaky breath when your lips touched his skin
“Sorry, I was jus' thinking about how good it's gonna feel when I sink into that tight hole of yours~” You groaned, fumbling with the human's belt until you were able to slip your hand down the front of his pants. Bennett let out a high-pitched gasp as his dick was touched for the first time, his legs involuntarily spreading to allow more room for you to stroke him
As your rough stroking pulled more whines and whimpers from the inexperienced man, your cock grew harder and began throbbing in the tight constraints of your clothing, begging to be let out to ravage the hole that you'd been dry humping this whole time. Not wanting to wait any longer, you released Bennett's smaller dick and undid your own belt, freeing your aching member with a hiss as the breeze hit your sensitive skin
“Keep that ass in the air for me, yeah?” You prompted, pulling his pants down so that his entrance was on full display. Biting your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood, your hands groped at his soft flesh as you spread his cheeks apart, spitting on the human's hole and rubbing it around until your thumb slipped in. A choked moan escaped from him as you breached the orifice, working in two fingers soon enough as he rocked his hips into your touch. You wrapped your hand around your own dick and jerked yourself off, imagining that the tightness of your fist was his ass
While Bennett was whining against the ground and thrusting back against your hand, you lined your cock up and swiftly replaced your fingers with it, pushing halfway inside with a loud, drawn-out groan, “Ooooohhh shiiiit...mhm, FUCK you're tight. ” As your nails dig into his soft hips, Bennett releases another high-pitched whine while his insides adjust to the intrusion, stretching in ways they never have before
You began thrusting shallowly into his hole, letting him get used to your girth at least a little bit before you bottomed out. The human's warm walls clenched around you and it felt like heaven; your cock dragging against his insides while you drooled above him. His hips would definitely be very bruised after tonight, but that thought had no place in your mind when you were fucking into your new precious mate
“Mm you feel so damn good. Taking my cock like this, fuck...” Your thrusts sped up as your climax approached hastily, fucking into Bennett's virgin ass like your life depended on it. Finally spilling your first load deep inside while his voice cracked from his place on the ground, delicious pleasure overtaking both of you as you remained buried within him
It wasn't long before you began to hump into his hole, humming while you carded your clawed fingers through the human's fluffy hair. The softness only lasted so long before your humping turned back into pounding his ass again. Bennett's hole was so wet from your previous round of cum that every thrust into him made squishy sounds, which enticed you to thrust harder just to hear those hot noises, soon emptying another fat load into his womb
“Ffffuuuck—!! You'll be a good breeding bitch, won't you? Hnnngh f-fuck– Gonna take more of my cum, yeah? Just. Like. That. ” You grunted directly into his ear, pressing against his back while you held his hips up so that you were still hitting him at the perfect angle to prevent your cum from spilling out
Bennett panted like a bitch in heat while more warm cum flooded his insides, gradually breaking his mind with each new load pumped into him. “Yeeess, sir... Y-yes...aaahh—!! ” His pretty moans filled the area while you relentlessly drilled into him, staining his guts with your seed so that no one else would even dream of breeding the little bitch. Meanwhile, your sharp teeth pierced his delicate shoulder in a fit of possessiveness, growling as you marked your mate on the outside too
The next couple hours carried on much the same, more cumshots fucked into the human's ass as you rutted into him. More bite marks littered all over his exposed skin. Letting your instincts take over as you relieved yourself after almost a year without a mate. Suffice to say that the unlucky adventurer wouldn't leave that forest for quite some time
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Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3
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ellielatinagf · 27 days
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Ellie Williams in Covid head cannons
Sooooo this is just a small idea I had because I’ve never seen anyone else do this soooooooo. Our poor girly in yet another epidemic. Love you all!
Warnings: a tiny bit nsfw content, cursing, for the girls only pleaseee, lmk if there’s anything else
Was absolutely thrilled when everyone was advised to stay inside because she’s such an antisocial loser untilllllll she saw how everyone was rapidly spreading the disease. She’s low key a germaphobe.
Totally had a YouTube channel which consisted of her recording herself doing nothing but laying on the couch with you watching tv. Her only subscribers were Jesse, Joel, and Dina and some rando from Tennessee.
She found a new obsession every week and now the garage is filled with boxes of old paintings, crochet chickens, and diy art stuff.
Had ranked every Ramen noodle flavor from best to worst
Absolutely freaked OUT when you got Covid from your job and she ended up sleeping over at Joel’s. She actually refused to come back untill you showed her how you deep cleaned the whole house.
Ellie on FaceTime
Ellie: wait babe lemme see right there on the dresser
You: Ellie I literally wiped it down twice
Ellie: well I didn’t see it
Tried to make cookies one time and thought they were perfect and crispy around the edges. They really tasted like chips and she got mad when you laughed and claimed you never take her seriously.
Okay I’m sorry but she was a horny monster like cmon she was in the house all day with you like how can she not.
Had an obsession with the Big Bang theory and made you watch it with her and explained all the science stuff which she knew for the most part. On the ones she didn’t know she’d yap about it till you looked it up and she’d gaslight you into thinking she was right.
You: “Umm babe google says……”
Ellie: “that’s literally what I was saying”
She was at Joel’s house one time helping him make more guitars. She accidentally cut herself and when you demanded she go to the hospital which she was terrified of because of all the Covid patients getting her sick she went like this
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“Hold on babe i watched greys anatomy”
Fell victim to the meme pages all in her camera roll that were like this
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Hated zoom meetings but she’d be the type to hold her phone on the screen and watch those Roblox Tik toks.
I know i already said she was a fortnite god but that girl watched every single fortnite concert at the time and made sure you were right there with her and she made sure to clip the whole thing even though when watching the clip back her and Jesse were yelling their asses off. She loved season three of fortnite.
Ellie: “ HURRY UP BABE TRAVIS SCOTT IS GONNA PREFORM OH MY GOD JESSE WHERE ARE YOU!!!”
Ellie hated when people overstocked at the grocery store meanwhile she did the exact same thing because she was paranoid and it came in hand since you guys wouldn’t need to go grocery shopping for at least a week and a half
Ellie also discovered games with an emotional storyline like Detroit becomes human, red dead redemption, resident evil, ect. And had a phase where she’d be all poetic and shit thinking she was Shakespeare, she got tired of talking like she was from the 1800s.
Ellie: “my love, your eyes, they remind me of a thousand sunsets…”
You: “did you take out the trash?”
She had all her favorite YouTubers and would watch them on the tv and she’d make you play among us with her because that was “the game of century” as she proclaimed.
She actually had a small mini breakdown because our poor girl found out Joel had Covid and remember that in the news it said older people were more at risk. The poor girl though Joel was gonna die and you laid in bed with Ellie who was sniffling and crying in your shirt while you rubbed her back. Those always calm her down. Then when Joel was better again she made you pinky promise not to tell anyone anything. But she did end up calling Joel more frequently.
You guys actually had spent a lot of time together and most couples who spent so much time together broke up and got bored and such and such but you two actually enjoyed you time together. You and Ellie would would go to an open park where no one was around and watch the sunset and talk about what your plans were after everything was back to normal. Ellie asked if you two could get a puppy and who can ever say no to those eyes and freckles cheeks?
Another thing you guys liked to do was spent all day in bed and cuddling. Now a lot of people will assume Ellie would be the big spoon and that can be true sometimes but the girl is a hugeeeeeee softie. She loved being the little spoon because she felt safe by feeling your soft breath ok her back or shoulder. And she’s hold a dinosaur plushie. Like always.
She cried when she watched videos of family’s finally being able to reunite or grandparents watching their families through a class. Who didn’t cry?
She loved playing just dance with you and she’d purposely pick a song where you both had to dance together because she never has the balls to ask you to dance to with her.
She had a little camcorder where she recorded almost everything in your lives at that point. You brushing your teeth, both of you eating cereal, having tickle fights, ect. What Ellie doesn’t know is that now you sometimes go to the camcorder and watch the old videos and she’d a tear here and there because you loved the memories.
Some how she was actually a beast at the toilet paper kick up challenge and got a good 14 kick ups.
You cannot tell me she didn’t buy those apple juices that actually founded like apples when you bit into them.
I lowkey just had an idea of what Ellie would be like at this time sooooo lmk what other hcs you guys might want! Also be sure to let me know if you’d like to be in the Taglists! Don’t forget to talk about Palestine guys! Free Palestine 🇵🇸 🇵🇸🇵🇸
Taglists: @vqxen @bready101 @lilylynne11 @Lively-blues @Yurixxiii @vampyangel @gato-chino @a-little-bit-of-everybody @abbysbraids
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sprout-fics · 8 months
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Coyote Kiss
(Philip Graves x F! Reader)
(Call of Duty Masterlist)
Rating: Explicit, MDNI Wordcount: 3.1k Tags: Brat Tamer Graves, Bratty Reader, Motorcycle Graves, Date night, Banter, Bickering, Love/Hate Relationship, Messy relationships, Jealousy Warnings: None A/N: Hi. Here's more of the man I love to hate and hate to love. Forgive me.
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He’s smirking at you.
There’s a low, fluorescent buzz to the diner amidst the distant sounds of the kitchen, the gurgle of the coffee machine behind the counter. You and Graves are tucked in a booth, far from the door, where the neon light of the ‘open’ sign catches against the shiny leather of his motorcycle jacket. There’s tinny music over the speakers, the 80’s you think, not entirely sure. You know if you try and guess Graves will only huff at you, correct you and lament about your poor music knowledge.
Smartass.
You can feel the toes of his boots brush against your ankles, and even though you aren’t looking at him you know he’s just waiting for you to comment on it, nudge him out of your space with mild annoyance. Instead you focus on the various laminated displays of greasy food inside the menu, burying your face so you ignore him. Yet even without looking you know exactly how he looks. Relaxed into his seat, arms crossed, head tilted in keen observation, and that damned smirk plastered across his smug face. 
“You haven’t looked at the menu.” You observe, still not looking at him, and you hear Graves shift to attention when you finally acknowledge him.
“Don’t have to.” He replies easily. “I’ve been here long enough to know what I want.”
Or so he’s said. It had taken some cajoling on his part to drag you this far out into the sticks, far away from the Shadow Company base. You’d expected him to commandeer one of the jeeps in the compound, puzzled as to why he told you to dress warm in the middle of the deadly Texas summer heat. Yet then your commander had led you off to a garage, had yanked a tarp back to reveal a pristinely kept motorcycle underneath. 
“Ducati.” He announced smugly, leaning on the bike and running an appreciative hand over the sleek black trim. “One of the best on the market.”
“How did you afford this?” You gaped at him, ignoring his bark of laughter at your open, astonished expression.
“It pays to be a government contractor, sweetheart. You ought to know that by now.”
He walked over to a shelf, tossed you a helmet. It looked brand new. You barely caught it, too transfixed on the motorcycle. Graves sauntered back over, tapped two leather-gloved fingers under your chin.
“Close your mouth, babygirl. You’ll catch flies.”
It had been clear from the get-go that Graves had planned this in excruciating detail, going as far as providing you with a spare jacket that even now remains draped across your shoulders, just a bit too large. You’d hopped on the bike behind him, a little hesitant to grab onto him, at least until he’d huffed and wrapped your arms around his waist himself. The warmth of him bled into your front, helmet tucked against his shoulder and thighs clenched to the bike as he’d sped off out of the compound.
You’d gotten some stares from the guards. There will probably be rumors across half the base by the time you both get back.
You don’t know how long you rode into the desert, the sun setting quickly and casting a brilliant orange haze across the horizon. Graves talked little, focused on the road, stopping only when he was required, planting a possessive hand roaming across the meat of your thigh. When you’d playfully smacked at it, he only laughed.
Eventually you had pulled into the diner just as the sunset faded and the flickering, lonely street lights had turned on. When he had ushered you into the diner, the older lady behind the counter had greeted him in cheerful familiarity. “Phil.”
She’s disappeared now, and you think you heard her mutter something to the much younger waitress about a smoke break. Left alone, you stare into the grease-stained menu and try to decipher the various contents in a vain attempt to not entertain Grave’s twinkling eyes.
He nudges you again under the table, boots pressing against your ankles, spreading himself wide and into your space in a way that’s meant to purposefully draw your attention. You know this ploy all too well, know that if you bite and decide to snip at him he’ll only rile you up further with gleeful audacity, until eventually he handles you into a biting kiss you can’t resist. It’s the constant game you both play, caught between a simmering annoyance that erupts in roaming touches and snipping banter even when you’re caught in his arms. You know the inevitable end of it, how you’ll end up in his bed, feel him haul your legs over his shoulders and tease you even then, smiling against your lips when he forces you to surrender in desperate, mewling gasps.
You pretend to hate it, fight him at every turn, rise to his jabs and return them with your own. It only feeds into his rampant desire for you, intoxicated by handling the feral nature of you, taming you with teasing endearments turned into rasping, sweet nothings as he buries himself inside you. You know you’ll go willingly even though you bite at him like something wild, slightly feral, knowing that at the end of this you’ll surrender to his carnal desires only because it feels so good.
You catch the waitress out of the corner of your eye, see her blonde hair cascade in girlish waves out of her ponytail, french-tip nails holding her ticketbook as she sways over to your table. She’s pretty, thin, looks like something out of those 60’s advertisements done in acrylic posters.
“What can I getcha, hon?” She asks, voice a thick Texas drawl as she cocks her hip, staring straight at Graves. Attentive. Suggestive. 
It makes your eyes narrow.
Graves looks up like he’s noticed her for the first time, offering a polite smile, different from the one he’s given you. 
“Coffee. Black.” He provides, slinging an arm over the back of his seat. “I’ll have the fried catfish sandwich and okra. Fries on the side, biscuits too.”
“Sure thing, sugar.”
Hmm.
You’re ready to order when Graves then points at you. You think he’ll pull a smartass move, declare your affinity for a fresh salad and fruit. Instead he supplies: “This little lady right here will have a burger, medium rare. The works, bacon, egg, all that. Plus onion rings and a coke.”
You open your mouth to protest, but find nothing to object to. In fact, when you frown in a mild pout, your stomach only rumbles in yawning hunger. Graves shoots you a look. 
“And no pickles.” He adds, grinning wolfishly. You’re not sure if you want to bite or kiss him.
The waitress scribbles down all of the above in quick shorthand. “Anything else?”
Graves purses his lips, considering. “Chips and queso.” He supplies with a small gesture of his hand. “Thank ya, darlin’.”
The waitress seems to perk up at that, smiling happily before striding off towards the kitchen. You watch her go, trace her back until she vanishes behind the swinging door, and only then do you catch Graves staring at you. 
“What?”
He raises an eyebrow at you contemplatively. “Am I not giving you enough attention, babygirl?”
Are you jealous?
You scoff, averting your eyes so he doesn’t see the flash of surprise and bashfulness that flickers across your gaze. “Hardly.” You tell him, and your commander only hums, pressing his boot a little more firmly against your calf.
You shoot him an annoyed look. “Quit it.” You grumble, and just as you expect Graves only grins, eyes twinkling at your bite. 
“Can’t help it.” He drawls. “I’m a long legged man.”
You tilt your head at him, a mischievous smile forming on your lips as you consider his words. 
“You’re 5’11.” You correct him. “I know plenty of Shadows that have a few inches on you.”
Graves’ eyes flash at that, and you know you’ve gotten under his skin just a bit by the way his gaze turns just a little sharp before melting back into easy confidence. 
“I compensate in other ways, darlin’. You know that.”
You thin your lips at that, know that for all intents and purposes, he’s right.
Graves takes in your silence and laughs, pleased. 
“Don’t pout.” He tuts at you. “If you need a reminder later, let me know.”
The last time he gave you a ‘reminder’ you’d walked on wobbly legs for two days afterwards, bruises tracing abstract patterns up your chest and throat. And Graves, damnable Graves, had strutted around the compound like a prized rooster crowing at the sun for all the things he knew he had done to you. You’d seethed about it, of course, his egoism, but even then you couldn’t stop the memory of him from poisoning the slow fester of your attraction to him. 
His hands on your wrists, your legs over his shoulders. The hickeys he’s sucked into your throat bloom dark against your skin. You toss your head under him, lips parted in desperate little whines as he grinds himself into you with unerring precision. His back is scratched to hell, and he moans at the burn of it, drunk on the hurt and the intoxicating process of watching your wild nature fold to utter, mewling surrender under him.
“Feel good, baby?” He drawls, voice hoarse with his groans as his hips slap against yours. It shakes the bed. “Can’t even talk because you’re so cockdrunk, aren’t ya, little spitfire?”
And you, you had given into him, had surrendered to his endearing, teasing taunts, had folded under him like you belonged there.
Your thighs threaten to close at the memory, and the motion doesn’t go unnoticed by your commander, who’s face lights up in realization. 
“Yeah?” He provides, shifting forward eagerly. “Bet you’d like that, babygirl.”
“Piss off.” You snap, even though the temptation of it roils inside you with undeniable interest.
Graves whistles, long and low, puckering his lips and feigning surprise. “I like that bark, sweetheart. You know I do, but…”
Graves leers at you.
“I like it better when you bite.”
You choke.
It’s not unlike him to be this brazen, far from it. Yet his taunting is usually reserved for the more private moments, the ones where he crowds you into the shadows of the armory or behind the barracks, seizes your lips in a domineering kiss until you gasp against him. He leaves you like that after, having barely touched you, smirking with that twinkle in his eyes and sauntering off to leave you exactly as he intended. Dizzy, chest rising, mind fuzzy with want.
Here, however, in this place with a sparse collection of other diners, where the blonde waitress peeks from the porthole of the kitchen door, you feel yourself warm under his intent stare, mouth pressing into a thin, flustered line as you avoid his gaze. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
You do, instinctively. That tone, when his voice dips lower, less playful,  heavy with intent, always summons your attention. It means listen, eyes up, come here.
You merely glance at him, not entirely turning. Avoiding him still, feeding into this game that you both enjoy so dearly. 
“Maybe I don’t want to.” You drawl, and you know if it weren’t for the table between you Graves would close the distance and seize your chin to make you look. You smile at that in a way he can see, watch the way fire flickers across his eyes at the rebellious streak in you. He loves it. Loves the way you refuse to obey. It’s a challenge he’s greedy to accept, a temptation he can’t resist. The act of making you surrender is an addiction in of itself, a warm swimming desire that feeds into his veins. He’s drunk on the act of taming you, can’t resist riling you up only to put you down. 
It feeds his ego, you think- his oozing confidence that doesn’t buckle even under artillery fire. Graves knows what he is capable of.
Knows he’s capable of taming you. 
Before he can respond to your taunt, the waitress reappears with an entire platter of food. Fries, chips, onion rings, queso, drinks, a burger, okra, and a piece of catfish perfectly fried. The steam wafts up from the linoleum table, and you can’t help your eyes fluttering at the intoxicating smell of perfectly greasy food. 
“Anything else, sweetpea?” The waitress asks in a sing-song little voice, still trying to draw Graves' attention. He looks up at her, tilting his head and softening his eyes just for a moment. You think he’ll flirt with her, maybe compliment her bright pink lipstick.
“That’s all.” He provides instead, short in a way that makes you blink as you watch the rejection pass over the waitress’s face. She nods distantly before vanishing, and Graves doesn’t give her a second glance before he’s lifting his sandwich up and tearing into it like a coyote with a piece of raw meat. 
You survey the table, the wealth of food you know you won’t finish. It’s decadent to the point of excess, and as Graves sucks the sauce from his fingers messily you blink at the spread. 
“Christ, Graves.” You breathe. “There’s enough here to feed the base.”
Graves hums around the next bite of his food. 
“I gotta keep my girl fed.” He provides through a full mouth, and when you scold him for manners he only grins at you before nodding to your burger. “I know you’re hungry, eat up.”
You grumble at him but happily oblige, biting into the meat of your burger. Flavor and warmth explodes across your senses, and before you can help it you moan.
Graves barks a laugh, nudges you once again under the table. 
“Atta girl.” He provides, and you’re too lost in your food to care about the slight mocking tone of his, eyes scrunching shut and savoring the next bite. 
“My little carnivore.” He croons, and you do nudge him with your boot at that, shooting him a glare. His eyes only twinkle with mischief before he returns to his own food. 
It takes time for you both to devour the table full of food with its queso laden chips and golden brown onion rings, the fries that leave grease stains on the wax paper. Graves waggles a piece of okra in front of your face, and you finally give into his cajoling before eating it straight from his hand.
When his knuckles graze under your chin, you resist the urge to bite him.
Eventually you slump back in your seat with a heavy, pleased sigh, hands over your full stomach and immensely satisfied at the warmth of the food that curls there. Graves sips at his coffee, and how he manages to drink it black after eating that amount of grease is beyond you. 
“Feel good, babygirl?” He asks, perhaps a little too smugly, but you can’t bring yourself to pay him much mind. 
“Mm-hmm.” You hum happily, a lazy pleased smile across your face as you look at him.
For a moment, you swear you catch something that veers dangerously close to tenderness.
“How am I supposed to get us both on the bike after all this?” He snarks instead, gesturing to the mess of empty plastic baskets and crumbs you’ve both left. 
You shrug, unable to hide a cheeky smile. “I could probably ride back and get a couple of strong shadows to haul you onto a truck.” You suggest, and in a rare moment of surprise Graves chokes on his coffee. You grin victoriously at him when he wipes at his chin before turning to you with his eyes narrowed. 
“Brat.”
You shrug. “Guilty.”
Despite the scolding, Graves is smiling, and you can’t help but smile back. 
You cringe when the bill is slid onto the table, but Graves doesn’t even blink when he deposits  a fat wad of cash before standing and bringing you with him. He keeps a hand at the small of your back as you both exit into the cool night air, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was being a gentleman.
Yet then the hand snakes up to your back, and you nearly stumble in surprise as Graves thumps you a few times between the shoulders. You spin to face him, eyes wide in indignation. 
“Are you trying to burp me?!” You gasp in mild outrage, and in perfect timing you have to swallow down a bubble of gas in hopes he doesn’t notice. 
Graves grins, amused and pleased at the mildly scornful look in your eyes. He merely crowds you backwards until your backside bumps against the motorcycle, his hands catching you by your hips before he hauls himself flush against you. 
You’re not ready for the way the blue of his eyes shift under the glow of the streetlamp, the sudden, dizzying desire he has when he locks his gaze on yours. 
“You drive me crazy, you know that darlin?” He rasps, voice dragging breathily in his chest. It makes you soften against him in your shock, the sudden rapturous fixation of his voice that almost speaks of devotion.
You swallow, heart thumping uneasily in your chest, caught on the razor’s edge of him, afraid that if you get too close he might bleed you dry. 
You almost want him to try. 
“You’re already crazy.” You manage instead, flashing him a mischievous smile that only barely meets your eyes. 
Graves laughs, and laughs again when you nip at his descending lips, a hand snaking up to cradle your skull and press you closer to him. Your hands seize the leather of his jacket in a desperate anchor, swept away by his sudden urge to devour you. 
You’re always hiding in some ways from him, you think, ever distant and out of reach. You feign irritation to quell the thunder of your heartbeat, teetering on the precipice of caution and dangerous desire. If you surrender completely, fall into his jaws, you know he’ll only gobble you up like a wild animal. You fear somehow he’ll chew you until you’ve lost your taste and then leave the remains of your broken heart withering like starved desert flowers. You’re not sure if you can take it.
Yet in this moment, in the laughing kiss he presses against your parted lips, you wonder if perhaps this is meant to be forever.
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@alicesfracturedmirror @writeforfandoms
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