#Silent Book Contest | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javiscigarette · 7 months

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Silent Night

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’re home for the holidays and Joel isn't gonna let a drinking contest or a house full of people stop him.

Warnings: PWP ofc, established relationship, mentions of drinking/alcohol, having to keep quiet?, oral (f&m receiving), thigh grinding, creampie, breeding kink, come play, getting caught, I think that's all lmk if I missed anything

w/c: 6.6k

a/n: hiii everyone! I am in fact alive! I'm finally on break from school and this is just a lil something I wrote real quick bc I've been in the holiday spirit since before October even ended hehehe :) Anyway, thank u to the actual loml @undrthelights for beta reading and finding the perfect pics!! It's nice to be back! Please leave a comment letting me know if you liked it, support is what keeps writers going!! Love u all!!

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Your hips grind a little harder against his thigh, a soft sight falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at the spot under your ear that drives you absolutely wild. “I don't think I can be quiet” you whisper, gasping softly when his tongue swipes over your pulse. "You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

You can hear them downstairs, muffled sounds of Joel and several other of your family members talking and laughing while they sip on the fancy whiskey that your dad was saving for the occasion. You opted out of it, quickly taking up the offer of the first hour or two of alone time you’ve had since you arrived at your parents house two days ago instead. You figured Joel could use the time too, talking with your dad and uncles and cousins about whatever men talk about when they’re doing whiskey tasting in the mancave of a basement.

You managed to avoid getting roped into watching a shitty Hallmark Christmas movie with the rest of your family or helping them prep for the big dinner tomorrow. After successfully sneaking away to your old childhood bedroom that’s now redecorated as a simple guest room, you're left with nothing to do besides relax. First up was a long shower with the water so hot you nearly scalded your skin, and now you’re cozied up in bed, nose buried deep in the middle of your book while the rest of the house buzzed with muted background noise.

Time passes without you noticing, too engrossed in your book to keep track, but eventually the bedroom door creaks open, pulling you back to reality. You’re about to tell off whoever is at the door for interrupting you, but you immediately soften when Joel slips inside, quietly closing the door behind him.

He looks so sweet, wrapped up in a thick dark brown sweater, his curls flopping over his forehead, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose with a lopsided smile. His eyes are soft, warm, and a bit glassy as he looks at you like you’re the best thing he ever did see.

"Think your dad is trying to kill me" he says, his words slurring just a bit as he crosses the room over to the bed.

You giggle, watching him plop down on the bed on his back, his head rolling over to look at you, "Are you surprised? He does this to you every year."

It's true, every holiday at your parents house, your dad insists on the whiskey "tasting", which is really just him pouring heavy handed shots and glasses and seeing who's going to be the last one to tap out. Usually it's just him and his brothers in the end, hashing out some decades old sibling rivalry in the form of a drinking contest. And ever since the first time you brought Joel home for the holiday five years ago, your father has insisted on dragging him down there and challenging him too.

The first year was the worst with Joel not heeding any of your warnings about how much liquor your dad would actually push on him. Joel was so sick by the end of the night that he made best friends with the toilet and passed out on the couch, then spent most of the next morning with a massive hangover, apologizing profusely to your dad about it who just laughed and said that he can try again next year.

Thankfully, Joel knows his limits now and has made peace with the fact that he'll never beat your dad at his own game. It doesn't mean that the challenge doesn't still stand.

"No" he mumbles, a dopey smile spreading across his face, "Guess I jus' never expect him to pour shots big enough to knock out a horse"

"How many did you have this time?" You ask, bookmarking your place in the book before setting it aside, sitting up a little straighter and adjusting the pillows behind your back.

"Jus' three."

"Oh, so you are just a lightweight then?"

"I'm not a fuckin' lightweight" he grumbles with a dramatic pout.

You laugh as you turn to lay on your side, propping yourself up on your elbow. Your hand instinctively falls to his hair, a small content sigh falling from his lips as your fingertips skate across his hairline and glide through his soft curls. scooting closer to him and reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, "Okay, baby" you hum, smiling when his eyes fall shut as your nails gently scratch his scalp, "If you say so."

Joel melts under your touch, like a cat basking in the sun, a lazy little grin on his face and a dreamy, far off look in his eyes. His face is still flushed, the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks a rosy shade of pink, his lips slightly parted, a few more stray curls falling across his forehead. He looks absolutely gorgeous, and the soft, tender look in his eyes when he finally looks back up at you melts you from the inside out.

You cup the side of his face in your hand and ;ean in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. "You're so cute when you're drunk" you murmur, moving kissing his cheek.

"M'not drunk"

You pull back to look him in the eye, smiling, "Sure you're not"

"I'm not" he whines, "M'just a lil' tipsy."

"Alright" you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his pouty lips.

Joel follows your mouth with the softest whine when you start to pull back, his large hand cupping the back of your head, holding you still while he kisses you, needy, but still so sweet. The taste of whiskey is heavy on his tongue as it slides against yours, a soft, satisfied noise rumbling in his chest when you part your lips further, kissing him deeper.

When he finally lets you break the kiss, you're left just a little breathless and dazed, a giddy feeling swirling low in your belly. His pupils are blown when he looks up at you, his lips spit slick and plump, a lopsided smile on his face. He turns a little more on his side facing you, his fingers fiddling with the hem of your t-shirt until his hand slips easily underneath like it was meant to be there. The warmth of his palm smoothing up and down the curve of your spine is soothing, his fingers gently tracing over your ribs and the dip of your waist, the slight scratch of his calluses over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your lips, licking his own. Realistically, you knew exactly what was going to happen as soon as he entered the bedroom. You know how he gets when he's like this, soft, sweet, and incredibly needy. With all the amount of times he tugged you into a bar bathroom after he's had a few, or when Tommy drops him off after a night out and he's already halfway to undressing you before the front door even shuts. You know he's trouble like this, but you can never deny him when he's looking at you like that, like you're the only thing he needs, the only thing he's ever needed.

He leans in to kiss you again, slow and sweet, his fingers splaying on your lower back and keeping you close. His mouth moves languidly against yours, the tip of his tongue tracing your bottle lip and his teeth sinking in the slightest bit to nip and tug, pulling a desperate little sound out from the back of your throat.

He sighs at the small sound and starts to lean into you more, using his weight to roll you over until you're flat on your back with him hovering above you, his forearms on either side of your head with his knees bracketing your hips. The kisses grow hungrier, wetter, more insistent, his mouth moving against yours like he's trying to breathe the very air from your lungs.

He shifts a bit and you moan softly into his mouth when his thigh slots between yours, the firm muscle of his thigh pushing right up against the apex of your thighs, the perfect amount of pressure to make heat spark and smolder in your belly. He does it again, rocking his thigh up against you just a little harder, swallowing the needy whimper that you let out, the heat and friction making you ache.

You can’t help but grind against his thigh, the seam of your sweatpants pressing against the damp spot that’s already forming on your panties and digging into your clit just right. You’re chasing the growing pleasure, the firmness of his thigh and the intoxicating taste of whiskey on his soft lips mixed with the faint trace of his peppermint toothpaste. You’d give anything to have him, for him to take you, but the sounds of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs is a rude reminder of reality.

"Joel" you warn with absolutely no heat in your voice, his lips grazing the sensitive spot under your ear, "We can't.”

He ignores you for a beat, crashing his lips back on yours and kissing you until he needs to come up for air.

"We can" he says, his voice gravelly and thick with want, the deep rumble vibrating in his chest. "We're bein' real quiet"

His lips trail across the line of your jaw and up your cheek before landing on your mouth again. The slow, lazy drag of his tongue against yours makes you throb, another soft when escaping you and the muscles in your legs and stomach tightening as you make no effort to stop moving against his thigh.

“Everyone will hear us” you try feebly, knowing it’s futile.

Joel smirks against your lips, the bastard. “Nah. I’ll be quiet.”

You know he's a damn liar and a bad one at that. In what world could you be quiet with his hands and mouth on you, with his thick cock buried deep inside you, stretching you out and filling you up so good that your toes curl? And in what world could he be quiet, not running his mouth about how good you feel, how pretty you look stuffed full of him, how well you take him. You know exactly how it'll go, if the numerous failed previous attempts are anything to go by.

But then his lips are on the side of your neck, and you're forgetting why it matters. You let your eyes fall shut as his lips press gentle, wet kisses up and down the column of your throat, the stubble on his cheeks and chin scratching and tickling in the best way. You're quickly forgetting why this was a bad idea to begin with.

"You can" he mumbles against the side of your neck, the vibrations of his voice and his warm breath against your skin sending burning hot sparks down your spine. “You can do whatever I ask, can’t you baby?”

“I don’t- oh…”

The rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue as he pushes his thigh against you, grinding it up against your core in a way that has your head spinning and toes curling, the pleasure sharp and delicious as it melts into your veins.

“That’s right” he murmurs, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You’ll do whatever I say, huh?”

There’s a pause and when you open your eyes, his are dark, his pupils blown wide, the deep brown nearly swallowed whole. His hair is tousled and curlier than ever, a few loose strands hanging in his face. His lips are slightly parted, swollen, red, and sick and shiny from your kisses. He’s an absolute sight and you can’t help but nod, eager to do whatever he wants, whatever he asks, because god it’s always worth it.

His eyes crinkle a bit at the corners and the lopsided smirk on his face widens. He’s the fucking devil.

Just the thought of him taking you with the rest of the house full of your extended family is making your veins buzz, excitement bubbling low in your belly. But you're well aware of just how thin the walls are and how nosy some members of your family are and you can't fathom how awkward it would be to come down for breakfast the next morning after the whole house heard you getting absolutely railed.

"It’ll be okay" he assures, reading your thoughts, his hands slipping under your shirt again. The fabric bunches up over his wrists as he slides his palms up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "M’not gonna let anyone else hear you. Just me."

Fuck.

His simple words are enough to convince you, not that you needed much convincing in the first place. He had you wrapped around his finger and him around yours, and there was no way you were going to say no to what you know will come next. A jolt of electricity shoots down your spine and settles hot and heavy in the pit of your stomach. Your resolve breaks, your legs falling open further, letting him get even closer, and Joel lets out a soft, happy noise against your mouth.

"Atta girl" he hums, his voice rough and deep, "So good for me, aren't ya baby?"

"Always" you manage to reply, the word more of a sigh as you arch your back, his thumb teasing your nipple until it's pebbled and hard.

He gives into you easily, tugging your shirt up and over your head. His mouth lands on your chest as soon as it’s exposed, immediately licking and kissing across your collarbones and the swell of your breast. He noses along the valley between them, the coarse hair of his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle. You can feel him grinning against your skin before he nips and sucks at the supple flesh until a red mark rises to the surface.

You squirm beneath him, his leg still nestled perfectly between yours and pressing against you every time he shifts. The pressure is building in your gut, your clit aching and throbbing. The feeling is almost too much with his hot wet mouth now wrapped around your nipple, his tongue swirling around the stiff peak making it harder and harder for you to keep quiet.

“Joel,” you hiss, the word half warning and half plea.

“Hush, baby” he mumbles against your skin. His fingers replace his mouth, pinching and teasing your swollen, spit-slick nipple as he kisses across your chest to lavish your other nipple with the same attention.

“Gotta be quiet, remember?” he says when he pulls back, releasing your nipple with a wet pop. “Unless you want everyone hearin’ ya”

You open your mouth to say something in protest, to tell him that he’s making things a lot harder right now, but then he starts moving, sliding down the bed and the words die in your throat. The look he gives you as he settles on his stomach between your thighs is sinful, his eyes dark and mischievous, his lips pulled up into a smirk.

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your sweats, slowly pulling them along with your panties down your legs, leaving you completely bare. Your stomach swoops at the sight of his eyes trained to your center and your thighs twitch, wanting to snap shut and hide. But his hands on both of your thighs keep you spread open for him. You swallow thickly, your breath catching in your throat, the anticipation building in the pit of your belly as your slick starts to drip down the cleft of your ass.

Joel’s mouth falls open slightly, a shaky breath escaping him. “Fuck, baby” he sighs, tongue darting out to lick his cherry red lips, his eyes glazing over. A small, content smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, a swell of pride blossoming in your chest. He looks wrecked, like a starving man eyeing his first meal, and the way he's looking at you so intently, like you're the best thing he's ever seen, the thing that's kept him alive all these years, is making your heart pound almost painfully in your chest.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he praises, his hand running along the inside of your thigh. “And all mine.”

Like he can’t wait another second, he’s leaning in and licking a long, wet stripe up your center, dragging his tongue through your folds from your leaking hole to your swollen, needy clit. The feeling of his tongue on you pulls a soft, broken sound from you. You clap your hand over your mouth as your head spins, a rush of pleasure washing over you making the muscles in your thighs and stomach twitch and flex.

He does it again and again, and every time his tongue flicks over the swollen bud, you let out a soft whine that sounds far too loud in the otherwise quiet room.

He groans against you, his mouth already wet and messy as he laps at your pussy like he's starving for it, like he would die without tasting you. His eyes are locked on yours, the look in them so dark and primal that it makes your walls clench, more slick freely leaking out of you and onto his tongue. He laps it up happily, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as his mouth works your clit.

He lets out a quiet, breathy moan when you slide your hand through his hair once again, your fingers tangling in and pulling on the soft brown strands. His eyes flutter shut, a shuddery exhale falling from his parted lips, and the feeling of his warm breath fanning over your wet, sensitive center has you stifling another high pitched whimper.

You roll your hips up against his face, desperate for more, and he gets the hint, the flat of his tongue swiping up through your folds a few more times before he dips it into your entrance, pushing in and out while his nose nudges at your clit. You're writhing beneath him, tugging at his hair, trying so hard to be quiet but failing miserably, soft, desperate little noises pouring out of your mouth. You know he's loving it too, making no effort to keep your noises at bay, not giving a single fuck about who might hear.

He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you jolt, your hips rolling up to meet him. You're panting, the hand that isn't buried in his hair gripping the sheets tight enough that your knuckles turn white, and your back arches when his tongue fucks in and out of you faster, rougher.

"Joel, fuck" you gasp, "I- I'm-

He growls, the sound muffled by your pussy, the vibrations and the feeling of his stubble dragging along your inner thighs making your toes curl, the familiar coil in your belly tightening, your thighs trembling.

He doubles down, bringing a hand between your legs to replace his tongue with two thick fingers sinking into you and curling up against that spot inside you that has you seeing stars, his tongue circling your clit while his fingers pump in and out of you, his mouth and hand working in tandem to pull you apart.

"Fuck, I'm close" you whimper, his fingers crooking against that spot inside of you, sending white hot fire coursing through your veins as your slick leaks down his fingers and into his palm like hot honey.

He hums, sucking your clit between his lips, and your legs clamp around his head, your hand tightening in his hair as your orgasm crashes over you, your back arching off the mattress, a muffled, broken moan spilling out from behind your hand. He fucks you through it, his tongue flattening out against your clit while the tips of his fingers rub against that sweet spot inside of you, sending more sparks of pleasure tingling up and down your spine.

When it's too much, when the sensitivity makes tears prick in the corners of your eyes, you make a feeble attempt to push him away. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees, his chin and cheeks wet with your slick, his pupils blown so wide that the brown is almost completely swallowed up by black. He stares at you, his gaze so heavy and intense that it makes another shiver run down your spine.

"You're not being very quiet" he smirks as he moves off the bed to stand up.

You roll your eyes, still coming down from the aftershocks, your thighs quivering, "Yeah, no shit" you mutter, propping yourself up on your elbows.

He chuckles as he pulls off his sweater and the t-shirt underneath it before he starts unbuckling his belt and working on his jeans. You sit up, shuffling closer to the edge of the bed, reaching out and batting his hands away, taking over and quickly unfastening the button and pulling the zipper down.

He doesn't protest, letting you push his jeans and boxers down his legs until he kicks them all the way off. Your mouth waters at the sight of his thick, hard cock hanging heavy between his legs, flushed a deep red with slippery precum beading at the tip. You reach out, wrapping your hand around the base and taking a moment or two to revel in the familiar weight and warmth of him in your hand.

He shudders, a low moan rumbling in his chest, his eyes slipping shut as his hand moves to cup the back of your head. He watches you intently as you take your time, lazily stroking him, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the leaking tip and tracing the throbbing veins that run along the sides. His breathing grows heavy, his jaw clenching and his stomach muscles twitching as he tries so hard not to buck his hips up into the loose circle of your fist.

"C'mon, sweetheart" he pleads, the words leaving his mouth as a low, breathless groan, "Get me all nice and wet for you."

He doesn't have to ask twice. You lean forward and you dart your tongue out to lap up the bead of precum, humming at the salty, bitter taste of it, swirling the flat of your tongue over the head of his cock, your hand pumping the rest of his shaft. His breath catches in his throat, a stuttered curse falling from his lips when you dip your tongue into the slit, teasing more precum out.

He groans, his grip on the back of your head tightening, urging you to take him into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. You sink down, flattening your tongue and taking him all the way until he hits the back of your throat, the tip of his cock brushing against the roof of your mouth. You breathe through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, swallowing around him, and the deep, guttural groan that he lets out has you squirming, slick leaking out of your cunt and onto the sheets below.

"There ya go" he pants, his head lolling back, "Oh, baby, that's it. S'fuckin' perfect."

You pull off, a string of spit and precum connecting his cock to your bottom lip, and you look up at him through your lashes.

"Need to be quiet" you remind him, "Or else I'll stop"

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He's not used to keeping quiet, not used to not telling you how good you feel, not used to not begging you to let him cum in that low, raspy tone that never fails to make you weak.

"I'll be good," he whispers, breathless and needy. "Promise."

Your stomach swoops at his words, arousal burning bright in your belly. Unable to stay away for much longer, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his cock. His hips jerk, another drop of precum leaking out. You lick it up, swirling your tongue around the sensitive, swollen tip before sinking down again. You take him into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him, bobbing your head slowly and steadily.

He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood trying with all his might to keep his noises in as you drool all over his cock. He can't take his eyes off you, watching the way he disappears into the slick heat of your mouth. You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around him, spit dripping down his cock and leaking out the corners of your mouth while your eyes water as you take him as far as you can.

You take him deeper, and you swallow, your throat convulsing around him, and the way his whole body shudders makes you smile, proud of the effect you have on him. He's so big and thick, and you both know you can't fit him all the way down your throat, but seeing you try your best is enough to make his thighs start to shake.

His cock hits the back of your throat again and again, the tip dipping into the soft, warm, tight space, and Joel's breathing is getting heavier and faster, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows knitted together.

"Shit" he grits out under his breath, "That's it, sweetheart. That's fuckin' it."

The praise goes straight between your legs, a fresh wave of slick leaking out of you and it's too tempting to resist, so you slip your hand between your thighs and rub circles around your clit, moaning softly around his cock.

He hisses, his eyes snapping down, watching your hand disappear between your legs.

"Are you touchin' yourself?" he asks, the words coming out rough and choked, his eyebrows raised.

You nod, sliding a finger into yourself, and you pull off his cock, panting, a thin strand of spit connecting the head to your bottom lip.

"Can't help it" you whine pathetically, your voice already raspy from how far his cock had been down your throat.

Joel groans, his dick twitching, and he's had enough. He takes a step back, and you let go, a little confused and worried that you've done something wrong. But he just takes hold of your arms and yanks you off the bed, his strong hands easily manhandling you, and then he's pushing you, turning you around and bending you over the side of the mattress.

"Oh" you breathe out, bracing yourself on your forearms, arching your back, sticking your ass up in the air.

You don't have to wait long for him to move. His hand is smoothing over your ass, the other one guiding his cock towards your sopping cunt. He teases the tip between your folds, spreading your slick and dragging his head over your swollen clit a few times before lining himself up and sinking in.

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, letting out a stuttering breath, the familiar, delicious burn of his thick cock stretching you out making your eyes roll back into your head. You've made peace with the face that you'll never be used to his size. It'll always be too much, the feeling of him pushing into, forcing your walls to make room for him will always make you clench and shiver.

He's got his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he bottoms out, his hips flush with the curve of your ass with the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. He holds himself there for a moment, both of you adjusting to the feeling, and you're trying so hard not to moan, to keep your noises muffled by the mattress, and you know Joel's struggling too, his jaw clenched tight and his brow furrowed.

"Good girl" he whispers, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, "Taking my cock so well, aren't ya?"

You nod, whimpering, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He pulls back and thrusts back in, setting a steady, slow rhythm, the wet slide of his cock making the most obscene sounds. And it's driving you crazy, the need to let out loud, your chest burning with the effort of keeping your noises in. He keeps his pace slow, not wanting to make more noise with his hips snapping against your ass. It’s nearly tortuous though, the drag of his cock in and out of you so slow that you can feel every ridge as he takes his sweet time. You can only handle it for a few moments before the tingling hints of pain from the stretch subside and the burning need for him to fuck you senseless takes over.

"Joel" you whine, "Faster, please."

He leans over you, his front pressed against your back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "You're not gonna stay quiet if I do," he says, his voice deep and gravelly, "Just take what I give you, sweetheart."

You're so worked up, the slow pace makes you even more desperate for him, and you can't help it, you need more, and you reach a hand back and grab his hip, urging him to speed up.

"I-I'll try" you promise, "Please, just- Just fuck me, Joel, please"

He hesitates, but the way you're squirming beneath him is so tempting, and the way his cock is throbbing and dripping inside of you is telling him that he needs more too.

Before you can say anything else, he's pulling back, the thick, heavy weight of him sliding out of you. You whimper at sudden empty feeling but you don't have time to complain before he's flipping you over onto your back and scooting you up the bed before climbing on top of you. You can’t help but notice how big he is, the muscles flexing smoothly in his strong arms that box you in as he hovers above you, nearly encompassing your entire body underneath his. His mouth is on yours before you can even blink, his tongue slipping past your lips and kissing you like his life depends on it.

He settles between your legs, his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs, his cock dragging along your clit again warm and heavy, and you gasp, the sound swallowed by his mouth. You're squirming again, desperate to feel him stretch you out more and he takes mercy on you, reaching between your bodies and grabbing the base of his cock, guiding the thick head towards your entrance.

"Gotta be quiet, baby" he warns, his eyes boring into yours as he looks down at you. "Those pretty noises are just for me, yeah? Can't have anyone hearin' 'em."

You nod frantically and the next second he's pushing in, the fat head of his cock forcing its way into you and bottoming out in one smooth motion. You let out a gasp that's definitely too loud but Joel is quick to remedy it, his hand coming up to cover your mouth, his fingers splaying across your cheek.

"Shh" he shushes you, his hips rolling, the slow, lazy drag of his cock against your walls making you clench around him. Your eyes roll back, your back arching as his hand stops all the whiny little sounds you can't help but make. He continues to fuck you slow and deep, his cock sliding in and out of your soaking wet cunt, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing softly in the room.

You can't take your eyes off him, watching his eyes squeeze shut, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing as he fucks you, his brows knitted together and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. He looks beautiful like this, sweat glistening on his skin, his jaw tight, and his eyes shut tight, his mouth hanging open with his breaths coming out in soft, barely audible pants.

"Mmm" he hums, his hips picking up speed, his cock pushing impossibly deeper. "You feel so fuckin' good, baby. Fuck."

You reflexively clench around him and a shudder runs through his whole body.

"Gettin' real tight" he pants, "Tryna milk the cum right outta me, huh? Tryna make me fill up that pretty pussy?"

You whimper into his palm, your pussy fluttering, a fresh wave of slick coating his cock, and he groans, his hips picking up speed.

"S'what you want?" he asks in a hushed tone, his hand still pressed firmly over your mouth. "You want me to fill you up? Make a mess of that pretty pussy? Breed you until you're fuckin' stuffed, baby girl?"

Your back arches off the bed, the coil in your belly so tight that you think you might pass out. He's rambling, his thrusts losing rhythm, his breathing getting ragged and choppy, his chest heaving and his thighs shaking.

"That's it" he coaxes when you tighten around him even more, "Can feel it, can feel how close you are. Go on, baby, cum on my cock. Wanna feel that tight, wet cunt cum all over my cock, please, baby."

His hips snap forward, his cock pushing deep into you, the tip rubbing against the spongy spot deep inside you that makes the coil in your belly finally snap. Your eyes roll back, a muffled, broken moan falling from your lips as your entire body convulses, your orgasm washing over you and making your toes curl as your walls flutter around his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

Joel lets out a deep, low groan, his hips stuttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. His hand slips away from your mouth so he can grip your hips with both hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, holding you in place so he can chase after his own release. His chest is tight as he holds in his grunts and groans, but it’s barely any use with the lewd noises that fill the room as your pussy gushes around him, your slick leaking past the tight seal of your walls around him and dripping down to his balls.

"Oh, shit, baby. Christ,” he chokes out, his stomach muscles clenching as his hips slam into yours, his cock pushing impossibly deeper and harder. “Keep makin’ a mess, keep lettin’ me feel it. That’s it. Fuckin’ hell.”

You can feel his cock starting to throb inside of you and you know he’s close. And you can’t stop the words from leaving your mouth, the need to let him know just how good he’s making you feel is destroying any bit of common sense.

“Want you to fill me up,” you whine. “Please, Joel, wanna feel it.”

That’s all it takes. His jaw clenches, his nose scrunching as his eyes squeeze shut. His cock twitches and pulses as he buries himself as deep as he can get before spilling into, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his cum. His hips jerking and stuttering d you clench around him, squeezing and milking him for everything he has while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his broken, ragged moans against your skin.

"So good,” he whimpers. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

The praise goes straight between your legs and you wrap your arm around his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He lifts his head, his palm resting on your cheek as he lifts his head and presses his lips against yours, kissing you languidly. His hips rock back and forth lazily, pushing his cum in as deep as he can get it. You melt into the bed underneath him, the only things keeping you tethered to the earth being your fingers combing through his hair and your legs tightening around his waist.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, and you're both left panting, trying to catch your breath. You listen to the muffled sounds of people downstairs, the movie playing and their drunken voices filtering in through the door, and Joel must be thinking the same thing because he chuckles.

"Well" he says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheekbone, "I don't think anyone heard us."

"You better hope they didn't" you retort, a grin on your face. Joel rolls his eyes. "That's a weird way to say thank you" he teases. You start to laugh, but the sound dies in your throat, morphing to a whimper instead when he starts pulling out his softening cock.

"Joel" you whine, but he doesn't stop. "Joel, please. It's-"

He's not listening, he's too focused on the way his cock looks when he pulls out. The tip slips out of you, and the rest follows, and his eyes widen as he watches a string of thick, sticky cum stretch from the tip of his cock to your cunt. It breaks, falling to your thigh, and he licks his lips. He can't tear his eyes away, watching the way your cunt flutters, and his cum starts to drip out, running down your slit, the obscene sight making Joel's spent cock twitch.

"Shit" he mutters under his breath, "Ain't that a pretty picture."

He reaches down, dragging a finger through the mess of cum and slick and gathering it on his finger before pushing it back into your cunt. You clench around the digit before he sighs and pulls it back out.

"Gonna be leaking all day tomorrow" he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, the thought of having him dripping out of you all day like that has renewed arousal already seeping into your veins.

“It’s okay” he assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take care ya. Clean you up and put my cock back in right where it belongs, how’s that sound, hm?”

You sigh, nodding, a wave of fatigue washing over you. “Sounds perfect,” you agree.

You watch as he climbs off of you and starts to move, but a sudden, sharp sound of knuckles knocking on the other side of the bedroom door makes you both freeze.

“You two are fucking disgusting!” the voice of your cousin calls out, accompanied by the sound of a couple other people giggling and laughing. “Put some goddamn clothes on and get down here!”

You and Joel exchange glances, his eyes wide and apologetic, his cheeks burning bright red as you give him a look that says I told you so.

“Alright, alright, we’re coming” he yells back.

“We’re coming! Oh, yeah we’re coming!” another voice teases, the sound of everyone bursting out laughing quickly follows.

“We’re never doing that again” Joel mutters and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that”

Thank you for reading!!! Plsss let me know if you enjoyed hehehe

#joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic #the last of us #tlou fic #joel miller #pedro pascal characters

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pervertedreams · 5 months

Text

with farleigh there’s always some sort of competition between the two of you, regardless if it’s subconscious or not. regardless if it’s childish and petty or not, and you always know around summer time when the two of you return to saltburn the games are on.

the fight to see who will break first and when is always thrilling to the both of you, restraining from each other sexually until the end of summer is usually the challenges goal. and you’ll do anything to make him crack, but he’s stubborn. usually he’s the first one to initiate, you can hear the soles of his bare feet slapping harshly against the buffed marbled floors. you’re slump on your bed nearly naked with just your bra and a loose pair of shorts. and you pray they cut the ac on eventually.

you stare at your open doorway, wait for farleigh to arrive in your line of vision. and when he does you nearly roll your eyes, he’s so obvious.

sporting a bare chest and a tight pair of swim trunks, when all this week his trunks have been noticeably loose. at least to you.

you can tell he’s been in the sun a while, complexion deeper than usual. there’s still water droplets running and curving down his chest and to his v-line. he watches your eyes follow it with a knowing smirk. “they aren’t turning on the conditioner.” his voice is flat, and you silently watch how his lips wrap around his cigarette. you scan his bare frame one more time, watching his chest rise and fall, and how the soaked trunks he wears strains around his bulge. you lift yourself up slowly to rest on your forearms, “is there something you wanna tell me?”

his smirk widens as he strides across your bedroom, standing directly in front of you so his bulge is eye level with you, “is there something you’re expecting me to ask?” and he nearly twitches when you look up at him from this angle, this specific view very familiar to him.

other times it’s you, this time you and the rest of the family outside laying by the pool. the loud summer sun burning new complexions into everyone, of course you need sunscreen. so it’d only be right to ask oliver to do it. farleigh’s closest friend of course. you arch against oliver’s palms, hands slowly working the white substance into your skin. you tilt your head back, little moans escaping your throat. making sure to let oliver know how good he is with his hands, all while making eye contact with farleigh. and you can see his lips tighten and thin around his ciggie.

sometimes it’s more subtle, maybe you’re eating a popsicle not even realizing farleigh was looking but of course when he does, you delightfully put on a show. he’s looking intensely, how the sweet treat creates a temporary bulge in your cheek much how his cock has in the past. the way your lips circle and pull around the orange treat, you purposely hollowing your cheeks. you wanna giggle when you watch him readjust in his seat, the book he was reading conveniently covering his hard on.

the sounds of you slurping and swallowing whatever juices melted on your tongue, while the rest dribbles down your throat and disappears into your chest. eventually you pull the popsicle out with a lewd pop, this time looking at him when your tongue licks a bold stripe up the chilled dessert. you lick your lips pointing the popsicle towards him, “d’you wanna taste?”

other times it’s him with a lollipop, maybe you’re sitting on his lap, bodies sticking together from the heat. the two of you watch a movie with felix and venetia. pretty pink lips wrapping and slurping around the red candy, and making eye contact was the worse thing you’ve could’ve done cause now it’s nearly a staring contest. he steadily pulls the lolli out, and you catch a glimpse of a small string of saliva that connects between the lollipop and his bottom lip before snapping. he licks his bottom lip, a sweet layer of sugar stains his taste buds. “when the last time you wore lip gloss?” his question is almost startling, you’ve been so focused on him. unforgivable images playing in your head.

“what?” your voice is hoarse and dry, he gives a low chuckle, bringing his spit slick lollipop pop to the bottom of your lips and circling it around your mouth like its lip balm. your lips are wet and stained and you nearly moan when he presses an open, wet kiss to your chin. “don’t break, baby.” is all he whispers before returning back to the movie like it’s nothing, leaving you irritated with wet lips, not the ones on your face.

idek if this makes sense you know it’s brainrot. feedback is ALWAYS encouraging

#meanie rich bf ��౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪#my work┊ ˚➶ ｡˚#saltburn farleigh #farleigh saltburn #saltburn smut #saltburn #saltburn felix #farleigh smut #farleigh x reader #farleigh start #farleigh catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton #oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #saltburn oliver

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devnmon · 8 months

Text

The Staring Contest // D.D.

Summary: Daryl tries to convince you to rest in bed with him, but when you refuse, he finds another way to try and convince you.

Warnings: suggestive content, 18+ | wc: 2.5k

Daryl was bent over his bike in the garage of your shared home, tightening a bolt on his bike for what seemed like the 10th time of the day. He hadn’t realized time passed as swiftly as it had, noticing the light from outside had dwindled down to darkness.

There were two things Daryl looked forward to when the day came to an end: relaxing for the night, and falling asleep next to you.

His fatigue from working throughout the hours only sparked one thought: where the hell were you?

All desire to finish tinkering on his bike washed from his muscles. Finding you in the home you two shared was the only thing he could think about now.

His tools clinked together as he shoved them away in a random drawer of the workbench he’d been using, before turning to leave the garage.

It was nighttime, which meant you wouldn’t have watch shifts or be caught up doing anything else around the community for the rest of the night. Daryl wondered what kept you away from him for so long, recalling the very moments you’d search for him endlessly on days you were apart for even more than an hour. He knew in his heart, no matter how long each of you spent separated, that you never stopped thought about him throughout the day. His earth-like scent, and the way your skin littered with goosebumps every time he was in the room was so familiar and safe.

I keep you in the front of my mind, always, you've told him before.

Daryl sauntered into the kitchen, immediately spotting you at the table, nose stuffed in a textbook. His steps were silent as always, which was normal for Daryl. On a day to day basis, he was able to enter a room silently and unnoticed, unless he made it known.

But somehow, you always knew when he was around.

“Hi, Dare,” you spoke, without looking back at him.

"Oh, hey, sunshine. What's gotcha down here this late?"

“Just trying to memorize what we need for the garden, so I can help Maggie tomorrow. Wanna know these by heart so I don't have to keep looking back in here. Ugh... this small text is giving me a headache already…”

You didn't have to turn around to know Daryl was right behind you. His voice drifted, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, sensing him step closer to you.

You gasped lightly at Daryl’s presence surrounding you, his warm breath brushing the back of your neck.

“My girl,” he whispered in your ear, “Smartest in the whole world. D'ya know that's so sexy t'me?”

A chill ran up your spine from his gravel tone of voice. It was intoxicating, almost enough to pull your thoughts away from the very interesting plant content.

“Daryl, you’re distracting me.” you chuckled, still staring down at the textbook in front of you.

“Mm.. why don’tcha drop that book an’ come t’bed with me.. It's late, babe.”

“Cause if I don’t know this information, our crops won’t do as well and-”

Your breath hitched as his hands had traveled up your back, massaging your shoulders, thumbs pressing into your stiff muscles.

“Yer tense..” he picked up the soft sigh you let out, and continued, “Like that?”

You sighed, “Yeah… takes the stress out of memorizing all these facts just a little bit.”

Daryl could feel the heat rushing over your skin in waves, realizing so obviously that he was the cause of it.

“I could help ya take out more’a that tension. Happen t’know a few ways, babe..” he pressed a kiss behind your ear, beard hairs tickling your skin.

“N-No.. no, I can’t. I’ve gotta be at Maggie’s early to help her and.." his hands continued, "Oh god that feels good, keep going..”

In your train of thought, you’d forgotten how firm Daryl’s hands were; how they could always bring you pleasure, no matter how he did it. The paired silence between you two continued for a few minutes with his hands and fingers firmly pressing into your back, until his southern drawl broke the silence, focus breaking once he realized your attention wasn’t pivoting from the book.

“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but I’m gettin’ jealous of yer damn book right 'bout now.”

Finally looking up from the pages beneath your eyes, you chuckled. The obvious boyish smirk on your boyfriend’s face was evident as you turned your head.

“You’re telling me you're getting jealous over some plants? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure anything in this world gets to take your place.” You stated, almost turning back to the book for a second, before cupping his cheek to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“You gon’ lose sleep over this? Some silly plants?” He murmured, close enough for you to hear him.

“Hey!” you poked at his chest lightly, “Those silly plants are what’s gonna help Alexandria and Hilltop thrive. It’s not my fault I was blessed with a green thumb. Now, can you please go get some rest? For me?”

He shook his head lightly, scrunching his nose at the idea of not having your full attention. Daryl knew what you were doing for the community was important. He knew that.

But maybe in those end-of-day moments of alone time with you, was when he decided to be selfish.

His intimate time with you was one of his favorite times of day; lips pressed to some part of your body in absolute worship, even if there would be a mark the next morning. Perhaps in favor of a mark being there.

“Nah. Nothin’ better than watchin’ my girl be a genius. Even if I’ll be damn tired t’morrow.” The slight groan in his voice hints towards the fact that he’s probably, definitely been up for way too long hunting and running around Alexandria all day. Straining all those precious muscles of his.

“You’re cute when you're being stubborn. You need to get some rest, too. Can’t have those bags under your pretty eyes.”

“Oh, my eyes’re pretty, now? Saw you avoidin’ em when you kissed me b'fore. Tha’s how I know ya get distracted when ya look at me..”

Of course you got distracted looking at him. He was so perfectly Daryl with that mop of wavy brown hair, piercing eyes that shone as the sea does, and his rugged figure.

“Tell ya what, you win a starin’ contest with me, an’ I’ll go to bed so you can study. But if I win, you gotta drop the books an’ come to bed with me.”

It was then Daryl’s hands left your shoulders, thus your aches returned. He took a seat backwards on a chair across from where you sat you, while you glanced up at him.

“Now Daryl, you’re just being silly. What are we, teenagers?”

Being around you certainly made Daryl feel like a teenager, even in his aged life, which brought a smile to your face.

“If ya don’t wanna see my eyes, jus’ keep starin at that book, I guess.”

You scoffed under your breath, still staring at the book. Only his soft breathing could be heard from across the table. He could’ve sworn you were blushing, but your head was tilted downwards too much to be certain.

“Look at me, sunshine,” he drawled, while you sat too flustered to face him, “C’mon..”

Your eyes trailed up the leather on Daryl's figure, then the tips of his brown hair, the scar across his left cheek, meeting his blues softly. He’d registered the rose tint on the apples of your cheeks immediately afterward.

"Mhm.. So, staring contest?” he lowered his head, making sure you kept eye contact with him.

“I don’t get what the point of this is…” you replied pointedly, shaking your head, a bit amused with the whole thing.

“Point is… ya do this with me or else I’m gonna drag your butt upstairs to bed."

“What’re you gonna do if I refuse?”

You knew Daryl was absolutely capable of carrying you upstairs. There was no doubt about it, he was strong enough to lift you and it wouldn't take much effort on his part.

"When's the last time you weren't workin' yourself overtime for this place, huh? I think you're the one who deserves rest, sunshine." His arms crossed against his chest, muscles practically bulging from under the cloth of his shirt.

"So do you, Daryl. You're just too stubborn to admit it."

The archer sat in silence for a moment, knowing you were right, putting up a stubborn front.

"Fine. I'll participate in your little staring contest. What happens when I win, again?" You both know what'll happen, and Daryl scoffs.

Placing the book down in front of you, your arms rest on the table and he leans in a little further. His scent of pine surrounds your senses, faltering your gaze from him for a minute.

"This ain't gonna work if you don't look at me, sweetheart." It's like you can hear the shit eating grin on his face, and when you look up again, it seemed you were right.

"Let's get this on with, shall we? First one that blinks, loses." You tilt your head in the same fashion as his, lowering your voice a bit.

"Gladly. Ready whenever you are, sunshine." Daryl's drawl had gone from his normal volume to a gravel one. You can tell he tried to throw you off track with it, but nonetheless, the staring contest was on.

Your eyes met his, deep and dark in the lighting. How did everything about him compliment those damn irises of his? Just one glimpse of his gorgeous aura from across the table had you pulling away from your book for more.

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Your nose scrunches as the words come out in almost a whisper, delicate with the way you're letting your thoughts drift from just his eyes.

"Hun, you're not much better. Gorgeous, but stubborn as all hell. Think ya might be more stubborn than me." You hear the chuckle, and it takes almost all of your stamina not to steal a glance at his lips. If you did, there was no way you'd be able to contain your eyelids.

You know exactly what he's doing, playing on the way you melt at his every compliment. But you focus on his eyes and what you can see of him in your peripherals. His broad shoulders are scrunched, eyes studying your face.

"Are you trying to intimidate me? Cause it's not going to work.."

"Dunno, think I have a couple ways. You jus' keep on starin' at me."

You huffed a breath and continued looking into Daryl's eyes. He was intimidating enough that you had to find other things to think about rather than his. Because they were so... tantalizing. Electrifying. A simple glance of his would usually bring you, figuratively yet literally, to your knees. Ones that were met from across courtyards of Alexandria, or from the corner of a room during a community meeting. How you were able to hold off on crumbling under that same look now? You had no clue.

To your concern, you hadn't realized the falling of your mind into such deep thoughts about the archer. Your eyes focused back on the wisp of his eyelashes, before realizing his bottom lip was caught between his teeth. Giving his features a once-over, you peeked at the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Are you smirking?" Your arms folded across the table and inched closer to him.

"What else am I supposed t'do? You're too pretty. Happens when I look at’cha for a long time." His elbows propped up his chin in those rough palms of his, and began inching closer as well.

“Speak for yourself, handsome.” It was almost a whisper, but still the tones of your voice caught him off guard. Daryl’s eyes dropped from yours, swiftly to your lips and back up.

“Wish you’d just let me win so I could kiss ya right now.” His deft fingers tapped on the wooden table now, eyelids heavy with impatience and a sultry gaze being shot your way. You want him to lean towards you, within just the proximity to plant your lips on his, but he sits back in his chair instead.

You whisper, “You make me wanna go back to my books and leave you hanging on this damn contest.”

Daryl shrugs, “Ya blink, ya lose. Them’s the rules.”

“I’m not breaking.. do with that what you will, pretty boy.”

“Mhm..." Daryl chuckled to himself for a moment, then stood from his seat. Whatever composure you were trying to keep from showing while gazing at him only overwhelmed you as he rose from the table. No matter how hard he tried, Daryl came off as intimidating, especially when he stood over you, like he was doing right now.

"We're having a contest here.." you began, "Or does you leaving the table mean you forfeit?"

Daryl's fingers dragged along the table, slowly stepping towards you with the same intimidating glare.

"Nope." He stepped behind you, grabbing your chair with both hands to pull it out from the table.

"Daryl- what're you doing?" You giggled, letting the book of plants fall onto the floor, while you were dragged backwards by Daryl's strength.

"If you're not gonna let me win, I'm just gonna have to take you myself." let go of the chair, and immediately knelt down to grasp your body from your seat.

"Hey!" Daryl's large, warm hands grasped your body, while you wrapped your hands around him in surprise. Upon your hands grasping at him, he got a face full of your chest, which he didn't mind at all.

Grunting at your weight in his arms, you turned to him, spotting the faint blush on his cheeks at the view he was currently getting. You chuckled, getting flustered yourself, but still pressed against him. He began towards the stairs, with you easily grasped in his arms. It was during these rare moments that you realized just how strong Daryl was, how easily he could pick you up and carry you without breaking a sweat.

"This what you're gonna do every time you can't convince me?" Your arms wrapped around his neck now, watching his face while he walked. You pressed a few light kisses to his neck in response.

"Nah, I'll let ya win sometimes. But this, you're gonna wanna be there for." The smirk on his face created a warm feeling inside your chest, one you wanted to give him, too.

Daryl continued up the stairs, down the hall towards the bedroom you shared with him. Your arms wrapped around the nape of Daryl's neck, lips peppering kisses across the expanses of his chest. Once he'd walked to the bedroom door, he kicked it open and made his way towards the bed.

He softly placed you down on the edge of the mattress, waving you to lay back on the bed with his hand. Daryl kicked off his boots, undoing his belt before crawling towards you on the duvet.

In a moment he hovered over you, smirk lingering on his lips like liquor.

"Now, I dare ya, take your eyes off me. See what happens."

You were in for an especially long night.

A/N: Thanks for reading:) If you enjoyed this fic, please show support by reblogging!

#ryesff #devnmon writes #daryl dixon x reader #devnmonwrites #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x you #daryl x you #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #twd fanfic #twd daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fic #daryl dixon fanfic #all dividers from cafekitsune!

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amoremainslayer · 2 months

Note

Gunwook Smut recommendations!

How about writing something about jealous Gunwook seeing a senior / someone older liking y/n!! Gunwook being a bit upset about it and reader make it up to him by showing him just how much the reader loves him?🧐

JEALOUSY - P.GW

Pairings : gunwook x reader

Genre : fluff, smut

Warnings: nsfw under the cut, blow job

A/n : Haii, sorry this comes out so late i somehow always forgot about this ask. Hope this is enough for you!!

To the ppl who hated on me, go cry about it💋

Not proofread!!

A deep frown placed itself on Gunwooks face, creating a small crease between his eyebrows. The two of you have been practicing for your debate contest for a few hours now, sitting on your usual place in the library.

Everything was peaceful to Gunwook, you were happily drinking the drink he bought you, the arguemtns your were gathering were more than just strong, and in general He could spend time with his crush.

Not until Eunseok, a senior you've known for about 2 years now approached you and suggested he'd help you "I used to debate aswell, you know" Eunseok mentioned nonchalantly.

Gunwook hated the way your eyes widened in surprise, a big smile on your lips as you asked Eunseok about his past debates. He didn't like the way Eunseok looked at you, he liked the way you reacted to greatly to everything Eunseok said even less.

"I didnt know you were into debates! Thank you for suggesting your help, but I think gunwook and I need to concentrate now" You spoke politely and gunwook smirked slightly. Now it was Eunseok who frowned slightly, but nevertheless left the two of you alone.

It was a wonder Eunseok had even found the two of you, you were sitting in a hidden corner in the library, a place you had only found after going through old and dark alleys no one even dared to look at.

You sighed, turning back to Gunwook to continue your preparations but the bothered expression on his face left you hesitating "Whats wrong wook?" You asked, trying to put your finger on what left him looking like this.

He gulped suddenly getting flustered at the fact you had noticed him being jealous "Its nothing, lets continue" he murmured, hiding his red cheeks while looking down onto his notes.

You could read him like an open book, it somehow felt as clear as water that he was jealous. You put your hand on his "Eunseok is just a friend to me" you reassured. Gunwook looked up, blinking a few times "Why are you saying this to me, its not like i'm jealous or something" He denied, glancing to his right before looking back at you.

You raised an eyebrow, standing up from your seat and walking up to him. You chuckled softly, your index finger wandering beneath his chin to make him look up to you "Are you sure? The frown on your face says otherwise" You spoke and his frown instantly disappeared.

He closed his eyes, internally closing at himself before looking back up at you "I didn't mean t-" he began but was interuppted by you shaking your head "I dont like Eunseok" You spoke.

He seemed confused "What?" he asked "Nearly everyone knows he likes you, so why wouldnt you like him back?" Gunwook felt confused, why would you lie about this.

You scoffed "Do i really have to proove it to you?" You spoke while raising a single eyebrow. Gunwook remained silent, but by the glow in his eyes you knew you had to.

You let out a breath, slowly kneeling down so you were the one looking up to gunwook now. He automatically opened his legs, eyes staring down at you while watching every move you did. Just the bare sight of you kneeling infront of him let all the blood rush into his erection

"I would never like someone like Eunseok" You whispered, cupping his buldge gently. After a few seconds you began undoing his pants, pulling out his length teasingly slow.

As the air hit his skin, a small groan escaped his lips. Precum was leaking out of his tip while his hand wandered to your shoulder. You gave him one last gaze before you leaned down, pressing small kisses all over his tip.

A soft moan left his lips while he watched you kiss him "Fuck" he groaned, adjusting his hips to give you more access. Soon you took him into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length while locking eyes with him.

He let his head fall back with a groan, his hand entangling into your hair while guiding you to bob your head up and down his cock "Baby you're doing so good" he murmured, the tip of his cock hitting your throat with each thrust.

Your hands were massaging his balls while gunwook closed his eyes. You felt yourself slightly chocking on his cock, slowly getting lost of oxygen "I'm so close baby" he groaned, hips bucking into your mouth.

You began sucking on his cock, further pleasuring him until he finally came with one last moan. He spilled his seat right into your mouth, his eyes closing as he lost himself in the sensation of your mouth on his erection.

You let go of his cock, gulping down his seeds before standing back up to face him "Proof enough?" you asked with a small grin, lips slightly swollen after the head you gave him. He chuckled softly "You're actually crazy, you know that baby?"

#amoremainslayer #zb1 x reader #zb1 hard hours #park gunwook #zb1 smut #zerobaseone x reader #gunwook x reader #gunwook smut

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hotvintagepoll · 2 months

Text

Propaganda

Mary Philbin (Phantom of the Opera, The Man Who Laughs)— I must simply say I love Mary Loretta Philbin. She was known for her, in the words of Wikipedia, ethereal screen presence. In fact, Pat O' Malley says it best, "If I were superstitious I would think that the spirit of some great tragedienne of a forgotten past slipped into Mary's soul when she heard the camera begin to click." I first saw her in the Phantom of the Opera adaptation of 1925, where she plays a very interesting rendition of Christine Daae (I would argue a foundational performance, since this was the first mainstream portrayal of the character outside of Gaston Leroux's 1910 book) opposite Lon Chaney as the title character, and I Loved her performance, and ofc developed a bit of a crush on her. After her years in Hollywood, she stopped acting in 1930 and lived the rest of her life in relative peace. One fact that always stuck with me was the fact that later in her life, she very rarely made public appearances, but did in fact do so in order to attend the Los Angeles opening of Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom of the Opera. And if all that isn't enough to convince you, look at a photo of her. She is really, stunningly beautiful.

Musidora (The Vampires)—none other than THE irma vep lady—but never mind that, you know her as the sexy bat! [image under the cut]

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Mary Philbin:

She is hot?

Shes just so cute

Mary Philbin started acting after winning a beauty contest hosted by Universal Pictures and went on to star in a number of films, including one of the most iconic silent horror films of her era, "the Phantom of the Opera". She also gave a sweet, heart-wrenching performance in "The Man Who Laughs" alongside Conrad Veidt.

Musidora:

"She’s the original dark mysterious film beauty. Also I think the name Musidora is badass."

#musidora #mary philbin #fuck that old woman #hotvintagepoll #ladies 2

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ilguna · 22 days

Note

Piano Sessions: Style + Finnick Odair -- reader x Finnick faking a relationship to gain favor in Capitol, but real feelings develop, maybe have them towing that line in the lead-up to Quarter Quell

☼ style (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, use of the term 'good girl' kinda in a gross way, mention of gore, brief mention of the morphlings.

wc; 2.9k

notes; Piano Sessions: songfic, Style by Taylor Swift.

Finnick Odair is one of those victors that you have never been able to properly figure out, despite knowing him for almost eight years.

Every time you think that you’ve finally got a handle on his thought process and the way he acts, he strays, surprising you. Over the years, his impulse decisions have slowly declined, as his situation with the Capitol and District Four stabilized. However, with recent problems rising, it’s brought back his unpredictability.

For some reason, you don’t have this issue with any of the other victors. In fact, you could read them like an open book, cracking their spines in the process because you can delve deep. It’s really not that hard to sniff out secrets in their seemingly perfect facades when you’ve been doing it for so long.

It’s a talent, really. One that not a lot of people appreciate. What happens is that they find it irritating when you know their intentions before they’ve had the chance to approach you. Most of the time, they have this look in their eye, giving it away. You don’t even need to search half the time because of it.

That’s why you can tell that Finnick is up to something right now, but you don’t know exactly what it is. From what you’ve gathered so far from the stolen glances in your direction, is that it has something to do with you. He’s just waiting for the right moment to talk to you.

Which is driving you crazy. You’re not sure what the right moment could possibly be, especially now that the two of you are on a train being shipped to the Capitol in their custody. This is not just another year of mentoring, where every thought can wait until you’re ready. You’re District Four’s tributes in the Quarter Quell, unspoken words could mean life or death. They can change the trajectory of the Games.

He knows this, of course. Probably better than anybody.

You suck in a breath through your nose, rolling your head in his direction, making eye contact right as he glances at you again. Instead of looking away immediately, the two of you enter a silent staring contest.

It doesn’t last for long. “Are you going to say it or are you going to keep looking at me?” You ask.

Finnick offers you a small smile, getting up from where he’s sitting on the plush train couch to go to you. Where you’re sitting at the dining table, enjoying the bottomless pot of sweet tea that the avoxes provide.

A laugh leaves him. “I was thinking, while we’re in the Capitol, we could fake a relationship to gain more favor.” He says nonchalantly. It’s so relaxed coming from his mouth that you almost feel ridiculous when you choke on your drink. “So that we have nothing to worry about with sponsors in the arena.”

You raise a napkin to your lips, clearing your throat, trying to get the burning pain to subside quicker.

“And it could work out in your favor too, you’ll get allies.” He continues. “Since we both know that you have a special talent for driving people away.”

You raise your eyebrows, blinking, absolutely speechless. This is exactly what you mean when you say that Finnick makes it so difficult for you to pin him down. And you’re not referring to the add-on at the end. You’re talking about the way he just casually suggested for the two of you to fake a relationship.

“Have you hit your head recently?” You ask.

“No.” He lets out a light laugh. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong, especially about the sponsor part.”

You know he’s not wrong. Your ability to anticipate intentions have lost you a good handful of friendships over the years, particularly in District Four. Your former friends saw you as an opportunity for money after your win, despite having plenty of it for themselves. So, you lost them. You told them to get lost.

It’s stunted a lot of potential friendships since, and it’s because you’re entirely too suspicious to let new people in right away. It happened with Finnick, even though he was the one to really mentor you before going inside. You couldn’t quite place your finger on him, which makes sense seven and a half years later. He doesn’t have a consistent personality.

Still, on the other hand, your gut feeling has given you a chance to grow in other areas. Like with the Capitol, for example. You used it to your advantage during your Games, like when you interacted with the tributes around you. You knew what the Gamemakers were looking for with scoring, giving you a higher one than you deserved.

You simultaneously flattered the Capitol while talking about yourself during the interview with Caesar, getting you a step in the door. It truly isn’t difficult to sweep the Capitol off their feet in the first place, but you managed to do it so effortlessly that they held onto you. They cared about what happened to you in the arena.

When you won, it only continued from there. You became the Capitol’s favorite female darling, because Finnick was their male. It wasn’t long before you were the good girl, you couldn’t do anything wrong. Even when your tongue accidentally slipped and you showed some of your true colors.

So, while Finnick isn’t wrong about allies, he’s far off about sponsors. It’ll work more in his favor than it will in yours. Although, with his own fairly decent sized sponsor list, you two could blow the competition out of the water with your combined efforts.

But then again, you don’t really care about having allies right now. They don’t inherently matter until you’re in the Capitol, and even then with the chaos going on in the districts, you need to figure out who will be good to have around. You volunteered knowing full well you were signing up to go blind, which is why your whole plan revolves around analyzing the mindsets of the other tributes.

Especially when it comes to Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, but you know how difficult they can be. You’ll be looking at Haymitch for real direction when it comes to the rebels. His teenagers sparked the rebellion, and the rest of you will make sure that it gets set ablaze.

Finnick’s plan is almost meaningless. And so is he, to you, in some capacity. You don’t need him, you haven’t in years. If he’d been paying attention to that recently, he’d know that you’re self-sufficient in the Capitol, and you’ve never been afraid of approaching other tributes. This year will be even easier since you’re all victors, anyway.

Finnick’s proposition is just so bizarre.

Here’s the thing—it’s been a while since you’d heard from him. The last time you held a genuine conversation beyond the formalities was a year and a half ago, when you’d decided that you were done with his whirlwind romance. He would suck you into his own personal vortex, and the only reason why you’d get spat out would be because he wasn’t interested anymore.

And it’s not like this happened once, it was multiple times. The reason why you kept going back was because your relationship before hadn’t been like that. It changed a couple months after Annie Cresta won her Games. One day, you two were stable. Next, there were more issues than you could take care of, which would be the beginning of the end.

Of course, you tried to fix every problem you had, but it didn’t feel like you were making progress. So, the next solution came to be an on-and-off relationship. You would get together, everything would be fine for a couple months, and then you’d break up. By the time he wanted you back, you’d be over the fight, and you’d go right back to him.

You thought that after the last time, he’d be done. Yet here he is, surprising you again.

“Come on, (Y/n), it’ll work out in our favor.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“It’ll work out in your favor.” You correct him. “I don’t care either way, and I think you knew that already.”

Finnick tilts his head with a knowing smile. “You caught me, but I meant what I said about allies. I have an in, and you don’t. You’ll be able to skip the processing time with me.” He winks.

He must be talking about the rebels. It makes you wonder how he’s been talking to them, especially Haymitch, or anyone else that might be involved in higher places, besides District Four. Your home has been making quite the uproar since the news of the Quarter Quell, it’s just gotten worse recently. They’ve basically flooded every possible open space with the Peacekeepers, afraid of the Mayor being overthrown. Or worse, joining in on the rebellion. Which is why they replaced the old Head Peacekeeper with a new one, and she’s a fucking bitch.

“Let me guess, I’ll have to follow your lead?”

He makes a face, “Not exactly. I can’t be in charge of an alliance that large, so I’m sure we’ll all be given a part to take care of.”

You squint at him as the realization that this is a terrible idea dawns on you. You have to admit, it’s a creative way to get you back into his arms after so long, but if it’s anything like the past ten times, you know where this leads. And you know that you should tell him to leave, but you won’t.

“Fine, I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend.” You emphasize.

Finnick gives you a dimpled smile. “I knew you’d agree.”

—

The Capitol has been eventful in its own boring way this past week.

In terms of training and impressing the Gamemakers, there wasn’t anything new. You showed up to the gym, you played around with their toys, and you’d go back to the apartment at the end of the day. From the outside looking in, no one’s been able to tell that there’s more going on in the background.

If they looked closer, they’d see that you’ve been conspiring with victors that you haven’t shown interest in the past. That you’ve been getting along with Johanna and morphlings, when rivalries and distaste haven’t been hidden from the public. That you haven’t been their perfect little darling all week.

With the Games quickly approaching, and happening as soon as tomorrow, it’s been hard to keep the anticipation from boiling over. Especially since Haymitch’s plan has finally been smoothed out, after days of working out the kinks.

At the beginning of training, you scoped out Katniss and Peeta. Truth be told, they weren’t sure about how they felt about you. After some proving, Katniss was able to admit to Haymitch that she knows something is off with you. LIke you can read her thoughts and act on them before they’re fully formed. All Peeta could say was that he thinks you’re nice and looking for peace.

This gave Haymitch an idea, which eventually led to him giving you a role—just as Finnick said he would. It’s pretty obvious how distrustful Katniss can be with Finnick, and so you’re expected to placate her, in hopes that Finnick will be able to keep control of any given situation. You told them that you’d try your best.

If Katniss can already sense what you’re doing, it’s only a matter of time before she fully catches on and shuts you down. Once that happens, there will be no coming back. She’s stubborn, so she’ll go out of her way to ignore you and your advice. You can see it coming.

Until then, you’ll keep your promise.

“And you’re finished!” One of the prep team members sighs. He backs up, hands pressed against his chest with a dreamy look in his eye. “We’re right on time, too. They haven’t been waiting long.”

You get up from where you’re sitting on the stool, watching as your dress glimmers in the soft light. Immediately, someone jumps to fluff out the back, not wanting it to be flat. A floor-length mirror is moved to be in front of you, allowing you to see the iridescent dress. It’s primarily blue, sometimes purple, rarely pink unless you move a certain way.

“Like a soap bubble.” Your stylist remarks. “Clean.”

Of course, the colors were done with a purpose. To continue to project the idea that you’re the Capitol’s perfect darling. Maybe it’s done with the hopes that they’ll take it easy on you inside of the arena, but their opinions will change over time. They’ll smile through the gore and murder. They’ll be outraged when you try to escape.

“Thank you.” You murmur, heading for the door.

The boy seemingly jumps to open the door for you, and then he stops. You look over your shoulder at your stylist, face twisted, hoping he’ll tell him to get out of your way. Instead, you’re met with an open box, and laying right in the middle of black satin is a pair of white gloves.

They’ve got to be kidding, you think. As you force a smile to your face, you reach for the gloves, pulling them on one at a time. They’re foreign, material slightly uncomfortable against your soft hands.

Now they open the door, letting you out.

You leave your room, going down the hall and into the living area to find Mags and Finnick. You’re greeted with a warm smile, Finnick moving across the room to hold your hand as you go down the few steps.

“Gloves?” He questions, rubbing his thumb over the material.

“I’m clean.” You roll your eyes, he lets out a breath through his nose.

“Of course you are.” He reaches to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, eyes fixated on yours.

“You’ve got that daydream look in your eye.” You murmur, stroking the side of his cheek with the back of your finger.

It’s a look that you’re familiar with. It’s sexy, sultry. It’s what your mind clings on to when you think about him, when you dream about getting back together with him. You know that it’s a facade that he puts on for the Capitol, but he’s perfected it over these years. You can’t help falling for it, too.

“You have that red lip, classic look that I like.” Finnick murmurs. “My type in every way.”

Yes, you know. You’re Finnick’s type, because you started it. You’re the girl he loves so much that he can never get enough of, even when you’re not together. So every girl that he dates now has to have some quality of yours, because you’re the blueprint. And all the girls that come after are the copies, second editions. Clones.

But he never really needs them, because when you go crashing down, you come back every time. By your will, or the universe’s, you can never stay apart for long. You thought that the last break up was it, yet you’re here again, back to taking care of each other. You love him.

You think you love him.

“It’s time to go, we’re going to be late for check-in!” Your escort warns you two, coming down the steps. “To the elevator, let’s go.”

You reluctantly pull away from Finnick, offering him a small smile. He motions for you to go first, following behind you casually. Your escort is the last to leave the apartment, but she’s quick to enter the elevator first. She presses the buttons, holds the doors to ensure you all make it on, and then relaxes.

Once you’re on the ground floor, she loses interest in control, pushing you and Finnick to join the rest of the victors, while she takes care of the rest. This is the last time you’ll see your stylist, prep team and Mags for the night. They’ll be in the crowd, somewhere in the front row, where you’ll be able to see them when you’re on stage.

The interviews haven’t started yet, but they will be soon, judging by the giant clock on the wall, counting down from ten minutes. There’s victors scattered everywhere, friends having their own conversations. Johanna catches you two through a brief glance, waving you over to join her.

Your pace doesn’t change. You play with one of the fingers of the glove. “What’s your plan for the interview? I heard an idea going around, and I was thinking of joining in, but I wanted to hear what you’re doing first.”

“I wrote a poem.” Finnick shrugs, “For a girl.”

You blink, face twisting as you slow down. “Why would you do a poem for me when I’m with you?”

Finnick opens his mouth, and then closes it.

Your body warms as you come to a stop in the hallway. Finnick’s lips are pressed together, head slightly tilted. “It’s for Annie, isn’t it?” You ask. “I heard you’ve been out and about with some other girl.”

Some other girl, you mock in your head. It’s Annie. He’s been out with Annie, part of the reason why you think your relationship has failed in the past. It’s no coincidence it started after she won. You had a feeling there was something going on between them before you left District Four, but you were just going to ignore it because it couldn’t have been true. Finnick wouldn’t cheat.

“What you heard is true, but I can’t stop thinking about you and I.” Finnick reaches to take your hands, squeezing them.

You sigh, “I’ve been there too a few times.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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noroi1000 · 1 year

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could i request a gojo x yn where yn is a famous supermodel while gojo is like businessman mafia and she meets him in a part for influential ppl and some rival of gojo attack the party to catch gojo but can't do it and to save y/n gojo takes her with him in a hurry to make sure she's fine ( bro fell in love at first sight while y/n doesn't really care bcs yk very hard to be impressed type of lady ) but a plot twist in this setting sort of is that there has been cases of many murders recently and the serial killer is impossible to catch ( the killer is y/- ok yes u get it but she killed them bcs she ruined her family or sum like that so our baddie is taking revenge ) well this is a dark theme dark romance request so yep ofc there's dark content and no one knows abt y/n's past at all despite her status no matter how hard they try and gojo after taking her makes her stay with him bcs she's one of the few ppl who saw his face so for privacy purposes and gojo barely finds out abt y/n's "dark deeds" when she throws hints playfully ( she's kinda devious morally grey sort of woman ) and idk what to add much more honestly but yea a smexy romantic love story ( SUB GOJO PLEASE 🙏😍😩 ) and gojo brings her a person to kill every year on her bday bcs she feels "stabby" ( mindfuck book series ref if ykyk ) also ofc y/n continues her career as a supermodel bcs 💅🏼👠. as another personal preference don't make y/n younger as it's uncomfy to me so yeah jsjdndbdnfn

whew this was quite a lot

have a good day !

Beautiful Vengeance

cover by @blvckryx my advisor and friend

paring: Mafia boss Gojo x model reader (killer)

words: 4,7k

warnings: murders, violence, guns, some kidnaping, smut (sub Gojo/dom reader)

Your mother always wanted you to have a good life. That's why when you told her you wanted to be a model when you grow up, she supported you as much as she could. To give you what you might need to make your dreams come true.

Your career took off when you were a teenager. When you were 16, you won a modeling contest, and your name made headlines.

And because you took the victory from one person, your life was about to end...

You competing with a girl whose family was more important than yours. You won anyway thanks to your innate charm, which made you stand in the first place and people considered you a beautiful, future model.

Thanks to this, your career could continue to roll and grow. And you couldn't take that chance.

You've worked so hard. You were the pride of your parents.

But your only opponent was a spoiled female dog who after losing to you all she wanted was to get rid of you.

She was the niece of mob boss Q. A man going by the name Q, who made his living by killing people for hire, dealing drugs and weapons. Even human trafficking. His mafia teams were everywhere.

You didn't know about it until you saw a group of people enter your house.

You were in your room then, and you heard screams and sounds of fighting.

As you quickly made your way down to your parents' living room, all you saw was pools of blood covering the soft carpet.

And three people dressed in black with black masks on their faces. In their hands bloody knives that they used to make your parents lie on the floor with open but dead eyes.

You were sad. You were afraid. You lost your parents. You wanted to cry over their loss. They were everything to you. They loved you, you loved them. You could have lived with them 16 years of your life. And now... It's all over.

Or you die and join them. To shorten your suffering.

But something else popped into your mind. To make them suffer.

You could have died at their hands, or you could have gotten revenge for your parents by killing them.

And you want revenge for the destruction of your life...

So you silently walked over to the cupboard until the opponents saw you, and unscrewing the bottle you let the water flow out of the plastic, soaking the entire floor where one of the people was standing.

You smashed a nearby lamp on his head and stabbed him with the sharpened glass at the end. Throwing the damaged item onto the wet floor, you jumped back quickly, letting his body quiver with the current coursing through him.

You hit the other's neck with your elbow, pulling his head back until you heard a crack.

Such easy ways to kill someone...

You've already killed two people with your own hands. Even if the metallic, disgusting smell of blood was nauseating.

Before you were stabbed by the last man, you took the knife from the dead body, and plunged the bloody blade into his chest.

While his body was still moving, he managed to scratch your head with the tip of the knife, just above the ear. Cutting off some of your shiny hair. Making your ear and the side of your neck covered in drops of blood.

The man in front of you writhed in pain as you pushed the knife hilt towards him, holding the knife in it. Stuck in his sternum in the chest.

Even though you saw the fear of death in his eyes, you felt no regret. Even if he cried and looked at you pleadingly, you showed no mercy.

Just like they had no mercy for your parents.

As he fell to the floor, the knife fell out of his chest, staying in your hand. Covering your hands in scarlet liquid.

When he was twitching and moving away with the last strength, you just walked over to him, and sitting on his stomach, you drove the knife into his heart, slowly watching the life fade from his eyes.

You felt your pajamas soaking in warm sticky blood. However, you didn't let go of the blade as you walked over to your parents and hugged them, not caring how dirty and bloody you were. You slowly and gently closed your eyes and left the house. Heading to a place where you know where a girl used to live surrounding herself with people with "Q" marks on their clothes.

There was a calm expression on your face as you walked straight down the runway, focusing on going perfect. The flashes of the flash bouncing off your eyes. The outfit you're wearing looks so good on you. One of the collections of one of the most famous fashion designers has been selected for you. Alternating with two other models, you go out there, showing the clothes on your body for less than a minute. A then you go back to change into your next outfit, and leave when it's your next turn.

It was your job.

You like it. You are a famous model.

And you don't mind that people only look at what your body looks like.

You go to clothes exhibitions, you take part in advertisements for clothes, cosmetics, nail polishes, jewelry. You are the face of many advertisements.

A lot of people who hire you choose you because you're sexy. And there is mystery in you. And your eyes show killer sexiness.

Your pose is flawless, sophisticated.

Everyone who knew you talked about this mystery in photos and videos. Something obtained without photomontage and without any additional make-up.

And Dark Beauty when you're seen in the ads for the blood red collection. Everything from lips to nails was a rich red.

That color just reminded you of what had happened over the years of your life. You don't care as long as no one knows about it.

Besides, your revenge isn't quite complete yet.

When you were 16, you swore revenge on those who hurt your family and you. You are 23 now. You are a famous model that neither the media nor anyone knows the whole truth about.

Nobody knows anything about your childhood, nobody knows anything about your past.

"Our killer only kills those from Q? Pretty good..." the white-haired man muttered, looking at the lists of names killed by one person this month. Three people. He couldn't feel sorry for these people. Each of them had the symbol of the Q family. How could he worry about the death of his enemies?

"Gojo-san, there's going to be a fashion show party soon with Q's boss."

He looked at the man who had spoken to him.

He stood up, adjusting his white shirt, adjusting the collar. He put on a black jacket and black glasses hiding his face.

"I couldn't miss it. Let's get together, guys. Time to bust some Q's heads."

Upon arrival, Gojo sat in a chosen spot next to the raised stage for models.

Soon after, the lights all around went out. The stage was lit.

This made it difficult for them to find their target.

So they decided to wait until the main banquet and party started to catch their enemies then.

Those who hinder his mafia cannot exist. Creating a business is a daily routine for the great "Six Eyes. And when people who have contracts with him are suddenly found dead with a "Q" burned into their skin, he can't sit idly by.

When he watched the fashion show, he thought it was everything he had seen before. All models the same, with fake smiles, with everything to make them even more attractive to the viewer. In none of them, in his opinion, was one whose eyes reflected the soul. And Six Eyes draws attention to human eyes. He knows people's eyes when they show fear or anger. When they show emotion. According to him, there was nothing interesting in the eyes of these women.

Until you came out from behind the curtain, walking calmly ahead. In an elegant black dress.

Your face showed a certain coldness, but warm at the same time. Your eyes were so mysterious.

White hair caught your attention, and you looked at him once.

And then, the mysterious darkness in your eyes made his heart beat faster.

Despite your emanating true model face, coupled with a nice façade, he felt your beauty was deadly. And he liked it very much. Mysterious danger.

A beautiful cat that can scratch her claws at any time. Even to death.

His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as he felt a little blush appear on his cheeks.

It was the first time he fell in love with someone at first sight.

No... It was the first time he truly fell in love. And he didn't want to lose this chance.

That's why he memorized as many details of your face as possible to catch you at the party after the fashion show. Because he sincerely hoped you'd be there.

Even if this party here may be bloody and trashed tonight.

But the moment everyone heard a few shots and one man fell to the floor lifeless, Gojo knew that this was no time for love or fun for him.

After all, he came here to get rid of enemies in an easy way.

And the orders to anyone who came with him said only: "If you see someone from Q, shoot without hesitation. They're definitely here."

All the people panicked and started to run.

And then each of them took out a gun and started shooting at the enemies.

When the white-haired man saw that you were standing behind the curtain on the stage, without a moment's thought he ran ahead, jumped on the platform and pulled you on his shoulder, to sit behind a meter high and shoot to protect you. His goal in sight has already killed three opponents today.

"What're you-?!" You screamed as you pulled away from him.

You already had a plan to approach one of the Q's from behind and slit his throat!

And he interrupted you.

"Don't be afraid, you won't die." He said to you.

You couldn't see his eyes clearly through his glasses. But you know he's not a cop.

You are in the middle of a fight between mafias.

Arrows started raining in your direction and he then quickly pulled you in front of him, making you kneel in front of him, and he lowered your head to his chest as he bent down so they wouldn't shoot him.

As he knelt, leaning forward, you were underneath his body. That's how he protected you.

You don't know why he did it. But you guess there's a deeper meaning to it.

It was the first time anyone protected you. It was nice of him. Because that man didn't even know you. You only looked at each other once during the show. Few minutes ago!

When there were fewer shots in your direction, you crawled out from under his chest, heading around the narrow stage.

And you, too, reached into your thigh and pulled out a folding knife.

Ignoring the screams of the white-haired man behind you and the shots, you kept walking. Until you finally saw a man with a "Q" tattoo on his neck.

You literally felt the knife sharpening in your hand and you quickly walked over to him without making a sound and smashed the knife into his neck. And then to the side of the head.

You quickly pulled away and sheathed the knife to check for blood. Fortunately not.

You were pulled to your feet by the same man who tried to save you right after all the shots had stopped.

You looked at his face without glasses.

You noticed the beauty and unique vigor of the eyes.

You heard another shot.

You looked to the side to see a dark haired man firing a gun at a man who was sitting with his back against the stage to make sure he was dead. With his head on the side. Because of this, no one could see the hole in his temple and neck, which is why he died.

"That's everyone. None of them managed to escape." He said, addressing the white-haired man. "What about her? Shoot? You don't have glasses."

He pointed the barrel of the gun at you.

You'd love to fight. If only that guy's hands weren't on your shoulders.

"She saw my face, huh... It's okay. We're taking her with us." He said with a smile.

"What?!" you shouted pissed off.

"Baby, you couldn't see my face. It's not against the rules of my Mafia. No one except those closest to me has seen my face or knows my real name. According to the rules, I should kill you or lock you up so you don't tell anyone. However, killing you would be a great loss. You're so beautiful and you got me curious... I don't want to kill someone I fell in love with."

"...Hold on!" You screamed as you pushed him, but he only held you tighter.

"Come on. I just have to admit there's something mysterious about your eyes. What you show on stage is not the real you, is it?"

"Fuck off!"

"Aw, honey..." he mumbled sadly.

He started to drag you by the wrist to the car. And even though you kept leaning against you, when the other man helped him to immobilize your arms, you were put in the car and he got in right behind you. The door was closed.

You noticed the black window in front of you, separating you from the driver.

That's good. Maybe you can kill him.

When he looked away for a moment, you put your hand under your dress, pulling your knife from the belt on your thigh, and suddenly jumped into his lap, putting the blade to his throat.

"Hey, baby, this is how you repay me for helping me? Understand that these are the rules we have." He said with a smile, hands raised in front of you.

"I could handle myself." You growled.

"Such a dangerous, beautiful woman. What part is the real you?"

"Who are you?! Someone from Q?!"

"Slow down a bit. Actually, it's like I'm taking you, so I should be the one asking the questions. But okay. I'm Six Eyes. Mafia boss. And when it comes to Q, I'm their biggest adversary."

You wondered if you should trust him. He didn't seem threatening now. Also, there was no Q anywhere here.

Holding the knife to his throat, you hesitated for a moment on what to do.

This caused his hands to quickly pull you down to the seat. His both hands held your wrists while his hips touched your ass as you lay on your stomach.

"If I was from Q, I'd rather kill myself than be there. And besides, everyone from Q would pay no attention to anything. They would just tie you up, rape you, kill you, and then dump your body in a ditch. Did I do that?"

"If you tried, I'd castrate you." You growled.

"Dangerous. I like it. However..." he let go of your wrists and sat in his place, giving you space. "I don't know if you could do something for me. I must admit your ferocity and hostility is strong. But let's say I'm the Mafia boss and you're the model."

"Do not underestimate me..."

"So tell me, (y/n) (l/n), why shouldn't I underestimate you? Tell me something about you. Because you are famous, but your biography is not known by anyone."

You were locked up in the large villa that was his home for several days. Why? Because he didn't want to lock you up in your old garages. He didn't want you gagged and bound while you sat there for who knows how long.

Your relationship was closer because you liked him. However, there was still some tension between the two of you.

Him, the annoying, selfish asshole and egotist who spoke to you the way he wanted to, and always came in when you least expected it.

He was able to come to you in the bathroom while you were taking a bath.

And he joined you.

That's why things became intimate between the two of you quickly, even though you weren't even a couple. You could just be considered friends now.

And you both liked the relationship you already had.

Nothing changed for the next two weeks.

It doesn't matter how many times you hit him with a pan until he finally let you go.

Of course he didn't because he acted like a child after being hit on the head with a pan. He pretended to cry.

You took good care of him and checked him for any head injury. Everything was fine. So you didn't have to worry.

And then he wouldn't let you get out of bed, wanting to make you feel guilty for doing it.

He was lying on your stomach, making you rub and stroke his head because it hurt. And it was your fault.

You apologized to him, and what else were you supposed to do?

It was your revenge for him locking you in here. And for skipping one of the most important performances where you were supposed to show clothes on stage. However, you couldn't complain, because as compensation for your lost money, you received from him a wardrobe worth half a year of your work. Or even more.

If only he was still good at sex, then you wouldn't complain so much. Because your partners were terrible. It's as if they couldn't do anything.

Besides, you've also been given a luxurious house that you have to live with him anyway.

"Come on. I already apologized to you..." you said, running your fingers through his white hair.

"But it hurt..." he said, pretending to cry.

"You don't even have a trace of it. There isn't even a bump on your head."

"But it still hurt...

"You've probably watched the ball through your opponents more than once, right?"

"Not at all..."

"You're in the mafia, Satoru..."

So yes, he told you his real name with the idea that you can't leave him and leave his house anyway. So your names were used by you on a daily basis.

"I've been in the mafia since my mother gave birth to me. I took it from my father... Besides, nobody ever shot me. Because I shot faster and more accurately than they did. When I was 15 I killed a spy who was looking for our weak point in our defense." He laughed, purring as your fingers swirled in his hair.

"So you had a bloody childhood too?"

"I doubt you shot anyone when you were a teenager." He laughed. "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm 23." You replied.

"Same as me! You see? We are made for each other!" He stood up suddenly, looking at you with sparkles in his eyes.

"Apparently you have a headache." You laughed as you saw him quickly lay down on top of you again. "Come on. Come, let me stroke you a little more."

"Which means you had a bloody childhood?"

"Do you really want to know? Don't you prefer that I leave my mysterious eyes?"

"You're smart and cold, or so you think. At fashion shows and commercials, you change it to a mysterious and sensual façade. However, you can care for someone else."

"I hit you with a pan. Is this supposed to be taking care of someone?"

He laughed slightly.

"It was different. Because I don't forbid you to be aggressive. I understand that you hate me. But now you're stroking and hugging me. You wash me while I wash you. We are not such enemies. Can you say we're lovers?"

"I don't know. But when I was 16, I also did something that probably no other model has ever done." You laughed.

He looked at you for a moment, analyzing what you said.

And 7 years ago, almost 10 people were murdered. And from that moment on, the murders of everyone in the Q group and family began. Starting with some of the closest ones from the family of the boss himself.

And these murders continue to this day. The murderer is impossible to catch because no one knows who he is. The gender of this person is unknown. No one knows what his goals are in these murders.

"This knife... You..." He looked at you questioningly.

"I have a knife scar under my hair. And the blood stains are washing off the skin." You said softly. "You can beat me if you know the truth now. If you think I'll be in the way or I shouldn't kill people like them. But remember that if you try, I will try to protect myself."

"You know it doesn't matter to me We may even be partners in crime. Because this is the woman I fell in love with at first sight." He hugged you, holding you tight.

Your actions for revenge are not ridiculed by him. On the contrary. He supports it.

And he promises that everyone from Q will die.

Because he fell in love with mysterious dark eyes. Eyes that from the beginning hid something murderous. So beautiful.

Just like all of you.

Your relationship was like lovers and enemies at the same time.

Or was it more like partners in crime now?

Dark lovers who don't care about the lives of their enemies. You has a mafia boss, the famous Six Eyes, wrapped around your little finger.

You guided him. His heart.

Such a powerful man was so small and sweet to you. So submissive.

That's why you could give that big little boy what he wanted.

You were still riding his cock until you were out of breath that night.

Or rather, his breath.

When you wonder if he's good at sex, you thought he was going to be average.

However, it is different.

He has a big nice dick.

It really stretches you out. It goes so deep. It hits all the best places.

You could barely feel the thin condom against his thick length as your pussy slid over him, lovingly inviting him into your tight warmth every time you lowered your hips.

His arms were bound with the string you found. It felt so good in his muscles.

He couldn't move while you scratched his arms and bit his neck.

You were riding him, making him moan. His hips pushed upward to meet your warmth. Your hand on the back was catching his balls and you were squeezing the skin in your palm. You pinched his thighs. You ran your hands over his lower abdomen, running your fingers along the veins running down his pubic bone.

Your fingernails ran over his chest, occasionally grazing his nipples.

While riding him, you massaged your clitoris to make you come faster. And you smiled as you watched as his head was thrown back as he red-faced moaned at the feeling of your pussy sucking him. His chest heaved rapidly.

His cock twitched inside you.

And then you pulled it out of you, leaving it out in the air. Only with a thin condom on it.

He moaned as your fingers tightened on the base of him, not allowing him to come.

It was his first ruined orgasm you gave him.

And you think he was always driving during sex. He was downstairs now, but he didn't protest. This guy just needed someone to dominate him the right way.

Very slowly and unbearably, you took the condom off him as the precum began to form a transparent puddle in the sperm reservoir.

Leaning down to his red cock, you kissed his head, listening as he moaned, his hips jumping as he felt a sudden touch against a sensitive part of his body.

He was so red and sensitive from a ruined orgasm. It was so cute.

You sat on his hips, and rubbed your pussy against his length, pressing his shaft against his muscular belly.

At the same time, you pulled his face down to your chest, doing something he always did when he saw you shirtless. You put his head in your breasts and he immediately started sucking on your nipples. Feeling the softness of your skin.

Soon after, he started moaning again and you stopped touching his cock again. If he wasn't tied up now, he would grab the length of it and start stroking himself to feel relieved. But alas, his hands were tied. There was nothing he could do and he was at your mercy.

You pressed your fingers against it again. Ensuring not one drop of his cum will come out of his tip. He couldn't come yet.

You want to see him throw his head back and moan when he wants to cum so much.

You sat on his cock when he didn't have a condom on, and he hissed through his teeth at the hot and tight feeling when he had nothing to separate your insides from his sensitive skin.

You grabbed the second condom and ripped open the wrapper. Only then did you get off of him, watching his wet tip drool.

You put the rubber all the way down his length, and then you sat on him again.

Warming his cock until his eyes were glassy and hazy and his face was so red.

As he threw his head back and his shoulders and hips trembled, wanting to start thrusting into you to come, you gave him some mercy.

You started jumping on top of him, smiling as you watched his heavy breathing and closed eyes.

The mighty mafia boss began to moan beneath you. And his ragged moans coupled with light sobs were the cause of his intense orgasm which was a combination of the three he was about to get. His thighs trembled as he came filling the condom inside you, the heat from his fluids pushing his sensitivity to the limit.

As you pulled him out of you, his cock fell soft against his stomach. You took the filled condom off him and tied it, putting the sticky rubber on his abs.

You lay down next to him, untying his hands, letting him pull your body against his.

Your nights together made him unable to resist you. So when you wanted to go back to your dream job, he had to agree.

Two people followed you across the city.

Even if he trusted you not to tell anyone.

He had your secret and you had his.

Little cameras in people's suits let him see what you were doing.

Well, he knew what you would do with those two.

Besides, he didn't feel sorry for them. They were two deserters who ran away from Q to join his mafia.

And he promised you that everyone who is or even was with Q will die.

That's why when he suddenly saw a pool of blood on the other side, he wasn't surprised and didn't even feel sorry for the two people.

Then he saw your face as you held the camera in one hand and your knife in the other.

"Not nice, Six Eyes ~. I don't like being followed. And we'll keep your punishment for that for later, Okay?"

When you said that, he felt a pleasant shiver that passed over his spine. And he couldn't wait for you to come home.

You were his dark queen.

His dark, beautiful queen will have her beautiful vengeance.

Because you will get everything.

Every year, on your birthday, he would take you to one place where the dirty work of killing was often done.

As a surprise, you got one or two high-ranking Q people.

Because his beautiful queen will always get what she wants.

So if you want revenge, you'll get it. In the best way for you.

You are his killer beauty. His deadly love.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #Mafia boss Gojo #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #gojo #jjk x reader #Sub Gojo

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milkdongcomics · 2 months

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“ HEY HUMAN, SEE WHAT YOU DO!? ” has been selected by the Jury among the 12 finalists of the Silent Book Contest 2020 – Gianni De Conno Award Italy!

被評審團選為2020年意大利Silent Book大賽－Gianni De Conno大獎的12位決賽入圍者！！

Instagram: milkdongcomics Facebook: Milk DoNg Comics

#Italy #意大利 #The Silent Book Contest 2020 #sbc2020 #Carthusia Edizioni #ANIMAN #HEY HUMAN SEE WHAT YOU DO!?#Milk DoNg #Milk DoNg Comics

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brittle-biscuits · 4 months

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Room Service? (Hazbin Hotel)

Charlie: Thank you so much for giving the hotel a chance, I promise you that you’ll be on your way to redemption in no time!

You softly chuckle as you told Charlie that it was no issue, this hotel was quite the experience with how long you’ve stayed and had seen here so far! Charlie smiles as she goes to grab the doorknob to your room.

Charlie: Yeah! Um, I swear that you won’t regret this! Now your room is being set up and your things should be brought in there too! I hope you enjoy your time her-

She stopped what she was saying as she opened the door into the room..to see Niffty had scattered your stuff around, turning around as she had one of your shirts tightly clutched in her hands…

The silent staring contest lasted for a bit, Charlie in disbelief at what she was seeing…

Charlie: Uh, Nif-

Niffty: MINE!

…before Niffty suddenly books it and gremlin skitters out of the room with your shirt still in her grasp.

Charlie took a moment before awkwardly laughing as she turned back to you.

Charlie: Hehe…um, p-please ignore that.

Wha…what just happened?

#hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #niffty x reader #niffty x you

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gojo-mochi · 11 months

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You should do Ace and Law for the I'm hungry fic 🔥🔥🔥

Content Warning: Suggestive, Fem!Reader, I made Ace a bit subby OTL It my first time writing him.

Pairings: Ace x Reader and Law x Reader

Word Count: 1108

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Omgoshh Hope you like it Meg!! Thank you for the request!

Law:

You strut into his office like you own the place. Hips swaying in what you thought was a seductive way. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend did not spare you a single glance other than the raised eyebrow he gave you when you first walked in. His gaze focused on the stack of papers and books sitting neatly in order on his desk. You made your own in front of his desk, having a one sided staring contest with Law, as Law was having his staring contest with the paper in his hand. He wasn’t even reading the damn paper! His eyes were solely focused on one spot on the paper, like he was burning a hole in it, when in reality he was just trying really hard not to make eye contact with you.

He did love you, he did!

He just knew your antics by now and did not want to deal with them. "Law….dear…" You drawl out slowly. Law’s eyebrow twitched slightly. "Yes, my love?" he sighs out after a few moments of silence. You smile widely, finally getting the attention you deserve. You lean over on his desk, making sure that your low-cut tee is pulled down enough so that your boyfriend can see everything. You slammed one hand down on the messy stacks of paper, while the other grabbed on to his collar, pulling him close.

"You know it's really late at night, and you've been working in the office all day.." Law's face twitches at that; he knows he has been too focused on his work lately and neglecting you. Before he could say anything or apologize, you leaned back from the desk and walked around the side. Once you reach Law, you spin his chair around to face you, settling your hand on his shoulder, then slowly trailing downward as you say.

"I was getting awfully hungry while you were gone... You know that my own fingers can’t satisfy me anymore." Your fingers danced along his torso, the waistband of his pants, before finally settling down on both of his thighs, squeezing them lightly. Causing Law to choke a bit on his spit. You squeezed on his thighs a bit harder, leaning forward to see Law’s blushing face, but before you could get any closer for a kiss, you saw Law’s lips first move before you heard "Room."

And now you were the one being pinned back against the chair with Law’s thigh in between yours, pressing against your core, while your wrists were being pinned down to the arm rests. You let out a squeak, trying to pull yourself out of Law’s iron grip on you, but he just chuckles and leans in closer, the scent of his cologne entering your nose as he breathes out. "I’m just giving my girl what she asked for, so lean back and take it."

(A/N: No brain power rn but if this get requested more I make might the actual smut part next)

Ace:

You don’t know why you were even surprised; Ace was pulling you by the arm straight to bother Thatch. A bit earlier, you woke him up from a nap in his room by straddling his lap and groping his toned thighs. You whispered to Ace’s groggy form that you were "Hungry.." and that was all Ace seemed to understand as his stomach immediately rumbled and he shot up, almost knocking you off the bed, but he managed to grab you by the waist before you could.

"Sorry Y/N! Haha, my stomach works faster than my brain, it seems!" He smiles brightly at you, making your heart flutter even though you were slightly annoyed that your plan was ruined once again by Ace’s never ending hunger. So now you're here, bothering Thatch to make more food. Well, Ace was the only one yelling, you were just there silently giving apologies to Thatch for bothering him so late again. Once Thatch had enough of Ace and kicked him out with you trailing behind, you had to console your boyfriend, softly rubbing his shoulders as his head hung down.

"It’s alright, baby, we can steal some of Marco’s snack stash, okay?" You cooed, gently smoothing your thumb over Ace’s shoulder blades. "But! That won’t be enough for the both of us! And Marco is getting better at hiding his stash too." Ace grumbled, crossing his arms on top of his knees and burying his head down. You get down to his level and press soft kisses to the top of his head and then to his weak spot on the back of his neck as you wrap your arms loosely around his form. You can feel Ace shiver a bit from your lips being pressed against his warm skin.

You trail your kisses back up his nape, slowly making each kiss wetter than the last, all the way up to the lobe of his ear, which you take between your teeth. Ace whined out loudly in a different tone than before, and the sound echoed a bit in the hallway you were both still in. "Bab-Babe! What are you doing?" His whole body was turning a bit red, and you could see a tent pitching in his favorite shorts that he always wears, even to sleep. You let go of his ear and purr into his ear, "Sorry~ I just can’t seem to help myself... just getting so hungry~" Your hands roamed around his body and onto his thigh, just beside the area he wanted you to touch the most.

Ace parts his thigh out, whimpering and panting, giving you a confused look as he tilts his head back to meet your eyes. "Wai-wait, Thatch already kicked us out.. Hahhh.. And I know Marco's not going to share an-any-ahh-mmffhh…" Ace bites his hands to muffle the needy sounds coming out. You decide to give him some release or just perhaps tease him some more by palming on his length. Ace bit down hard on his hand, almost causing it bleed as he cried out some more moans. Oh, baby, I wasn’t hungry for that kind of snack, I wanted something more filling." You made sure to press down hard at the last word.

Then, without any warning, you unwrapped yourself from Ace and started walking away. Ace was left stunned on the ground for a few moments until you motioned for him to come with a wave of your hand, and he instantly stood up and ran after you like a puppy, almost smacking straight into your back. The two of you head back to Ace’s room for a night of fun…

#banners by cafekitsune #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #law x reader #law smut #ace smut #ace x reader #one piece smut #thank you meg!!!!!

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ilreleonewikiart · 19 days

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TDIOBCB challenge - day 12:

F/F ship - Visenya the Dreamer and Jaehaera the Silent

It was young Visenya who saved her from this unfortunate condition. As a child, instead of joining in the mockery of her playmates, she chose to support her cousin and persuaded her mother to make Jaehaera one of her ladies-in-waiting, effectively making her the favorite among the many noble girls of the castle. The subsequent years spent in the company of her little cousin proved beneficial for Jaehaera, who gradually became more sociable and serene, finally integrated into the world that had once disdained her. The bond between the two girls, created over several years and growing stronger, was so deep and tenacious that not even adulthood and their duties could separate them: even after Princess Visenya's marriage to Prince Qyle of Dorne and her subsequent move from King's Landing to Sunspear, the friendship between the two cousins continued to thrive, as Princess Jaehaera followed her to the South as her sole lady-in-waiting, continuing to live closely together, just as they had done in the Red Keep. Many sources close to the two, who had the opportunity to see firsthand how the girls behaved in each other's company, even insinuated that their relationship was much more than a close friendship, with some swearing to have seen them exchanging tender kisses on the lips when they thought they were unobserved. There are no confirmations that this is true, yet, leafing through the pages of the diaries in which the Princess of Dorne wrote about her cousin, one gets the impression of reading the words of a girl in love rather than those of affectionate friendship. Princess Jaehaera was also the favorite subject of Visenya's drawings: there are indeed hundreds, from charcoal and silverpoint sketches to paintings, the artistic reproductions by Princess Visenya featuring her cousin, in both formal attire and more everyday and domestic settings, culminating in sketches with a more intimate atmosphere, where the princess is depicted almost without veils, her hair loose over her upper body, which in this context is almost completely uncovered.

- from TDIOBCB chapter 1

(warning: these illustrations are inspired by an AU Divergence and have nothing to do with canon (book or tv show) events and are not meant to be reposted outside of their contest)

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kedreeva · 6 months

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Sark's car had a flat tire this morning, so instead of going to work, we took a day trip down to Cabela's in Dundee, MI, to look for some stuff his parents had put on their christmas list. Afterward, we went looking for someplace to sit down for lunch, and in the complex/area was a restaurant that advertised "mac and cheese" on their front sign.

Well, I can't NOT try that, if it's good enough to put on the main advertisement, so we bopped in to see what it was about. The place was clean, the music was soft, the TVs were silent. There was a pillar with chalkboard coating it, and pokemon drawn up one side. The hosting station just inside the door had a sign that I didn't catch til I was on my way out the door, but that nonetheless gave me a smile

(M.A.K.E is apparently a very small, local group run by a young woman/children's book author/beauty pageant contestant?)

Anyway they were NOT misjudging the quality of their mac and cheese. Not only was it fantastic plain, but you can add toppings to it. I got mine with tater tots, mushrooms, and bacon bits, though when I go back I think I'll just get tater tots and maybe mushrooms, since the bacon bits were the hard crunchy kind not the soft kinds. But it was REALLY GOOD, and they had locally made root beer that was amazing, too.

If you're in the area or come to the area, Social House 103 is the name, and they're definitely worth checking out. They mostly have pub foods, including a bunch of burgers and appetizers. Sark got one of the burgers, which looked great, too, and I super want to go back to try their burger topped with deviled egg yolk.

#restaurants #good things #I'm going to be thinking about this mac and cheese for days

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sulumuns-dootah · 8 months

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WHB HC's - Gehenna demons

A/N: I'm not that far into the game, so some of this might be ooc to the game, but i based this off of what I've seen + Ars Goetia (Solomon's book of demons)

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

Characters: Satan, Sitri, Belial, Leraye, Astaroth, Zagan, Paimon

༺☆༻

Satan

Definitely has Gen Z humour

His necklace is a gift from Solomon

If Satan and Beelzebub happen to be at the same pub, they eventually end up having drinking competition

When he's depressed, the only ones he'll allow near him are Sitri and Ppyong

His playlist mostly contains metal and rock (He also has a secret playlist with pop music, but if you find out, he'll kill you right on the spot)

༺☆༻

Sitri

He has only one horn, because he gave the other to Solomon

Knows his dining etiquette and glares at anyone who does something wrong, including Satan

Loves watching horror movies with MC just to hear their heartbeat, but gets nightmares afterwards

Enjoys mixing batter for baking, but absolutely hates the rest of steps

A big fan of Edgar Allan Poe

༺☆༻

Belial

Frequently forgets to take Jiyu off his horn before shower

Secretly uncomfortably stares at everyone around him (Like we all do when we have sunglasses on)

I imagine his personality being just like Belphegor from Obey Me

Has a collection of plushies on his bed and a fully decked out dollhouse where Jiyu sleeps

Loves classical music, but also has few playlists with indie and symphonic metal

༺☆༻

Leraye

Would rather prefer bow and arrow than a gun, but bows don't have as much range

As an offering from mortals, he prefers fire water (=rainwater collected during storm with chilli)

Every teddy bear body on his outfit has a name

At first I was gonna say he loves playing darts, but he strikes more as a chess guy

Very competitive

༺☆༻

Astaroth

Loves gossip and secrets

In Ars Goetia it says his breath is toxic and I kinda like that idea

Always has a smut book on hand and sometimes he can be seen reading during battles

During sex the viper stays on (or even participates)

Gives really good advices

༺☆༻

Zagan

Favorite beverage is wine

Can move silently if he wishes to

Unlike Astaroth, you can actually trust him with your secrets

Absolute cuddle-bear

Actually kinda sassy and sarcastic at times

༺☆༻

Paimon

Complete Asmodeus from Obey Me energy, definitely follows him on Devilgram

Always wins the popularity contest despite the not being held one

If you introduced them to human music, they would love Marina & the Diamonds

Good friends with Zagan due to his Wine-to-Blood ability

Loves singing and has an amazing singing voice

#what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?#prettybusy #whb satan #whb sitri #whb belial #whb leraye #whb astaroth #whb zagan #whb paimon

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ace-of-zaun · 4 months

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You (And I):

Silco x f!reader - 2.6k words - SFW

cw: best friend!silco, fluff, banter, mutual pining, idiots in love, mentions of cat-calling and harassment (not silco), mentions of poverty, soft silco my beloved, a little bit of angst in the form of reader being anxious about not knowing who is climbing through the window, but it's just the boy

summary: Your best friend misses you, so the only logical solution is for him to climb through your bedroom window at three in the morning, without telling you beforehand… It’s a good thing that you love him (and it’s an even better thing that he loves you too).

It’s taking you a little bit longer than usual to drop off to sleep as you lie in bed, curled up under the covers, trying to keep as much warmth in as possible. Your room is right at the very top of your parents’ bar, The Last Drop, which is also where you’ve just started to work full-time instead of just the odd job you’d helped out with growing up.

But now, with money for food tight and the threat of closure even tighter, you’ve found yourself doing pretty much anything to help keep the bar afloat, from running errands and setting up during the day to serving customers all evening and cleaning up after a long night.

Your first proper job; you’d think with how exhausted you were you’d drop to sleep the very second your head hit the pillow.

Not tonight, it would seem. Tonight your mind appears to be far too preoccupied to let your body relax.

Your train of thought easily wanders to what you’d usually be doing on a Friday evening. More often than not you’d be holed up in the corner of a tiny café, trying to read your book while Silco asked your opinion on every little detail of whatever scheme he was working on at the time.

Or you’d be forcing Silco to give you a piggyback through the streets after raiding the market for the cheapest items you can find, Vander in tow carrying all the loot.

You can’t help but smile at the memories, a fuzzy, warm feeling spreading through you at the recollection of your best friend. Just the thought of him calms you; your lighthouse even in absentia.

And it seems to do the trick, eyelids just starting to feel too heavy to keep open, a sure indicator of incoming sleep, when a scrabbling noise outside your window causes you to frown.

…you really hope you don’t have rats again.

Of course, the sensible thing to do would be to get up and investigate. But you’ve only just gotten warm and sleepy, and not only is the window on the other side of the room, but you’re laying on your side with your back to the glass, and honestly who in their right mind would want to get up in the freezing cold just to have a staring contest with some rats?

Scrunching your eyelids even tighter closed, as if it would block out the sound, you attempt to lull yourself back into that bliss you were so close to achieving, vowing to deal with the little rodents in the morning.

Almost like magic, the scrabbling stops and you sigh in relief.

Until you hear the unmistakable sound of the window creaking open.

Your eyes shoot open and your blood begins to pump urgently around your body.

Fuck, why didn’t you lock the window before getting into bed? You must’ve forgotten in your sleep deprived state.

One hand slowly inches towards the knife you keep under your pillow as two, almost-silent thuds resonate across the floorboards.

Your heart practically leaps in your chest when you hear a series of soft footsteps approaching your bed, but you manage to keep yourself as still as possible, your only movement hidden beneath your pillow as you grip the knife handle tight.

A beat. Then another, as you wait for the exact right moment with bated breath.

The intruder pauses by your bed and you inhale sharply, preparing yourself to strike.

Without warning, you abruptly swing your body around, throwing off the covers as you blindly leap towards them.

But they’re faster, shoving you back down against the bed with their lithe body and clapping a hand over your mouth before you can even think to scream out.

The knife slips from your hand, leaving it to clatter to the floor while you thrash about in your assailant’s grasp.

“Stop it, it’s just me!” a familiar voice hisses down at you, halting your movements instantly.

You gaze up at the figure in bewilderment, slowly but surely recognising those jet black waves and hooked nose with every rapid heartbeat.

It’s just Silco.

He must spot the very moment that recognition sparks in your eyes because he’s soon grinning down at you, boyish, slightly crooked, and entirely too cheeky for his own good.

“Hey,” he says smoothly.

You push him off you with an unamused scoff, aiming to send him tumbling off the bed as you sit up and try to calm your erratic breathing.

No such luck though, he just stumbles to his feet and quickly drops down next to you on the bed while you plant your feet on the cold wooden boards, running your hands through your bedraggled hair.

Silco’s hand rests gently against your lower back and you glance up at him from your hunched up position of elbows on knees, palms against your forehead.

You’re filled with the sudden urge to yell at him. Loudly.

But your parents are asleep and they’ll be positively furious if they discover Silco in your bedroom in the middle of the night, so you settle for hissing at the ridiculous boy like an angry cat.

“What the fuck are you doing climbing through my bedroom window at half three in the morning?”

Silco appears completely unfazed.

“I left my lockpick at home, so I couldn't get in through the front door,” he replies, swiftly dodging the smack you try to deliver to his arm and instead catching your hand to press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “And I missed you.”

You roll your eyes and snatch your hand back, but you’re unable to prevent your heart from swelling in your chest at his sweet words. Damn that natural charm of his.

Luckily, a glance down at the knife by your feet distracts your wandering heart.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could’ve stabbed you.”

“Nah, you couldn’t,” he says dismissively until you shoot him a murderous glare. He returns it with a nonchalant shrug. “Thought you were asleep.”

“So why even bother climbing in?” you ask with a frown.

And then, from the corner of your eye, he begins to look the tiniest bit bashful, gaze dropping to the floor as he starts to draw random shapes on the material of his trousers with his nails.

“I, uh… I was gonna wake you up and ask if you wanted to go skip stones in the river.”

Your expression drops as you slowly turn to stare at him, which he meets with a dorky little grin. You groan and flop back down onto your bed, swinging your feet up so you can lay your head against the pillow, completely and utterly exasperated.

Your best friend has been possessed by a five-year-old boy, you’re sure of it.

Silco watches your dramatic display with clear amusement.

“I’m gonna take that as a no, then?” he asks.

“How do you have so much energy?” you whine, throwing your arm up to hide your face in the crook of your elbow. “Didn’t you have work today?”

“I had some work today,” he says, eyes quickly darting away from you. “Just not at the mines.”

Now this causes you to frown, peering over your arm at his trying-too-hard-to-look-relaxed body language.

“What kind of work?” you question, which he promptly ignores, so nudge him with your foot, concern growing by the second. “Sil… what kind of work?”

He lays down next to you, propped up on his side with one elbow, and starts absentmindedly playing with your hair.

“So, how was your day? You didn’t get any creeps trying to feel you up again, did you?”

You sigh heavily, knowing you’re not going to get an answer to your question. To be honest, you wish you didn’t have to give one to his.

It had only happened once or twice since you’d started working late shifts in the bar, and it hadn’t been as bad since your parents had begun to shut it down everytime a patron got a bit too touchy.

But it still didn’t make it right.

“No, just the odd comment,” you reply, suddenly overly-interested in your nails.

Silco wraps his arm around you and pulls you onto your side so he can hold you against his chest, chin resting on the crown of your head.

“I’ll hang around during your next shift and kill anyone who even looks your way,” he declares, with a ridiculous amount of conviction.

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. Dramatic boy.

“Don’t be stupid,” you say, lightly tapping your palm once against his back as a half-hearted scold.

“You’re right,” he agrees with a resolute nod. “I’ll let you kill them yourself, you deserve it.”

Your sigh is laced with exasperation but you still shift to cuddle him properly, arms wrapped around his midsection. You just want to enjoy his presence while you have it, even if he is a pain in your ass.

“I missed you too,” you say quietly after a peaceful silence, recalling his words from earlier. “It sucks working so much, I feel like I never see you anymore.”

“I know,” he hums soothingly, hand now rubbing tiny circles into the small of your back. “Just means we gotta make the most of the times we do.”

Snuggling him even tighter feels like the only appropriate response, so that’s what you do.

You could honestly stay here forever. No responsibilities, no stress, just Silco.

“You free tomorrow lunch? We could grab something to eat and then climb up to the roof of that factory by the river, if you want?” Silco asks.

A warm smile tugs at your lips.

“Yeah, I’m free.”

Your parents had been kind enough to give you the afternoon off tomorrow, but you were still expected to help out in the morning and evening as usual.

“Is Vander coming too?” you ask.

Silco shakes his head above you.

“Nah.”

“Oh,” you respond, surprised the third member of your ragtag trio won’t be joining you. “Why not?”

“I thought it could just be a you and me thing, you know?” Silco reasons confidently, although you do spot just a hint of insecurity in his voice, like he’s nervous you’ll interrogate him further.

Butterflies twirl through your stomach at the phrasing. You and him. You and Silco. A duet in this city of lonely hearts.

“Okay. That sounds nice,” you say, trying to keep the smile out of your voice.

He squeezes you once before he sits up a little, twisting around to pick the duvet up from off the floor. The covers are soon pulled over you both, where he tries to wrap his arms around you once more only to be met with you aiming little kicks at his legs.

“Oi, shoes off, you heathen,” you demand, ripping the duvet away from him. “I just washed these.”

Seriously, you didn’t spend all morning washing, drying, and ironing all your clothes and bedding just for him to muddy them with his filthy shoes. Janna knows where he’s been in them or what he might’ve stepped in (especially considering you’ve never seen him clean them in all the years you’ve known him).

“Alright, alright,” he grumbles, muttering a sardonic little,“Bossy boots,” under his breath.

Surprisingly, he does actually take the time to unlace them and even places them carefully under the bed, instead of just lobbing them across the room like you expect him to.

Only then do you allow him back under the covers, shifting about until you’re both comfortable in each other’s arms, legs tangled together to ensure you’re as close as possible.

“You know, you should really lock your bedroom window,” Silco comments after a few moments. “You never know who could be lurking about this time of night.”

You huff an amused breath through your nose.

“What, like you?”

“No, like some weirdo with nefarious ideas,” he insists, annoyed that you’re not taking him seriously.

You pull back in his arms to look him square in the face.

“...so, you?”

Silco pouts so adorably, you have to hold yourself back from just kissing him right there and then.

“You’re mean,” he says, looking like a little boy who has just had one of his toys stolen in the playground.

In lieu of kissing him, you boop him on the nose with your finger and give him a cheeky, affectionate grin.

“You love it.”

But your heart sinks in your chest when Silco’s face drops, gazing at you intently as if he’s searching for something. Then his gaze darts away, the tips of his ears turning red, and you start to panic that you’ve said or done the wrong thing.

Instinctively, your hands hold him a little bit tighter, scared that he’ll just get up and go.

“You know, my parents are going to kill me if they see us in bed like this,” you whisper over his shoulder, desperately trying to lighten the mood before he scarpers.

“Well, as long as they don’t kill me, then that’s fine,” he whispers back, and you can tell by his timbre that he’s smiling through the words.

You smack his shoulder, relief flooding through you in abundance.

“Idiot.”

There’s a pause.

Then, he says tenderly, (almost too tenderly for your poor heart).

“...Yes, but I’m your idiot.”

Patterns are happily traced against his back until you finally notice just how tired you are, leaning back to twist your head away from him so you can yawn into your hand.

Silco watches you quietly, stroking your cheek with his thumb like a slow, soothing metronome.

“You should get some sleep,” he says softly, his expression etched in quiet adoration.

Your eyebrows lift at the sheer audacity.

“Bitch, you’re the one who woke me up,” you protest sleepily.

He makes a show of turning to look over his shoulder and then back at you, pointing at his sternum with a quizzical frown.

“Who? Me?”

So, you sneak your cold hands up against the back of his warm neck until he yelps. Silco wrestles your hands off his neck, clasping them in between his palms until he lets you tiredly wrestle them back and smoosh your face into his chest, giggling into the front of his shirt.

He gently runs his hands through your hair as you both settle down once more, his own quiet laughter feeling like a blessing.

You almost don’t want to sleep now. You don’t want to miss any more time with him.

“Sil?” you murmur.

“Yeah, Squidge?” he replies.

Your nickname, from the time he threw a leftover tentacle at you from Jericho’s, named after the absolutely ridiculous noise it made when it slapped against your face. You love to hate it, which of course only makes Silco love it more.

“We’re always gonna be best friends, right? No matter what?” you say, deep down hoping you don’t sound too clingy.

You just can’t bear the thought of drifting apart from him. You honestly don’t know what you’d do without him.

Luckily, he soothes your worries without even a hint of the usual teasing.

“Absolutely,” he affirms, carefully running his nails along your scalp in a calming, repetitive motion. “You’re stuck with me now, come rain or smog.”

“Good,” you nod happily. “Just checking.”

Basked in Silco’s warmth, you’re far too exhausted and cosy to fight against closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep while the boy presses a delicate kiss to your head.

And right before you fall, he mumbles, oh so gently, into your hair.

“As if I’d want to be anywhere in this world except right here next to you, my perfect girl.” What a coincidence. There’s nowhere you’d rather be than right here, next to him.

#silco x reader #silco x you #silco x f!reader #silco #silco fic #silco arcane #one shot

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